Just finished nightshift, some two hours sleep and Paul was waking me up to take a flight to Exeter. Shattered we travelled to Exeter, took a taxi to a bus station, a bus to Tawton (1hour) and then the van owner came to pick us up and took us to a tiny farm house in the middle of knowhere to meet Ivan.
We scoped the van out, settled the money and documentation and within the hour Ivan was ours. Paul had the hard job of learning to manoeuvre this huge van through small contry roads and it was immedidiately noticeable that the speedo was broken, a quick check on google assured us it could be as simple as a loose wire and so we cracked on towards home. The sun went down and the cold set in, and we then noticed the heater was broken, and the van was freezing. Literally freezing! So at 200 miles into the return journey we stopped for a much needed hot chocolate (it felt warmer outside than in). then we pressed on, it was horrible! Freezing van, slightly broken and I hadn’t slept properly for nearly 36 hours the return journey felt like torture. At last we pulled into the street about 1 am, and we simply abandoned the van and fell into bed. Worst introduction to Ivan possible.
Scribbles from the Roadside 