The Kangoo is dead, long live the Kangoo!

When we purchased our French property we inherited numerous freebies including a sit-on lawn mower, chainsaw, strimmer...it was like a bad episode of The Price Is Right. Needless to say everything broke within the first few months. The only thing that wasn't terminally damaged was a Kangoo van. This enabled us to take all the broken stuff to the déchetterie. 

We did have to jump start the battery and pump up one of the tyres every visit, and when it rained the footwell filled up, so I was often driving around the Deux-Sèvres with my feet in an inch of water. But it worked.

That lovely little van has been like a work horse over the years, ferrying countless van loads of detritus to the dump. It has clocked up hundreds of miles delivering magazines around department 79 and beyond. It has been used and abused; a forklift load of slabs was inserted into the back with millimetres to spare and driven home with the rear wheel arches grinding against the tyres, scraping its way home along the D973, with sparks flying from the undercarriage and a sizeable tail back.

Memories. When Anna, my wife, fell asleep at the wheel of our Dacia Duster, wrapping it around a tree near Chef-Boutonne, I went and picked her up from Ruffec hospital in our beloved Kangoo. Memories. Our ageing (now deceased) Labrador used to travel in the back of the van and I could lean over and tickle behind her ear as I was driving 80kmh through the country lanes. Memories. 

One fateful day last month I was returning home from Melle (I knew all was not well as the radio and heater had stopped working a few days earlier). Approaching Saint-Maixent l'Ecole, all my hazard lights flashed up red, there was an audible bang and smoke started coming from the bonnet (even with my limited automobile knowledge I knew this was not good). Luckily, I was just driving through the town of Souvigné and was able to pull over by the Salle des fêtes.

I couldn't understand what the breakdown recovery man was saying, but he kept using the word 'kaput' and was kind enough to give me a moment alone with my van before towing it away. 

Now I have a new Kangoo...well its not new, but it doesn't fill up with water and smell of dog. It's left-hand drive which I struggle with (my left hand flailing about trying to find a gear stick which isn't there). It has two cup holders, a USB port and the arm rest lifts up to reveal a secret compartment just big enough to hold two bottles of red and a family size of packet of Croustilles. 

On the down side it has a little symbol of a gear stick which lights up when one should change gear. It's so irritating, no sooner have I gone up a gear the thing comes back on telling me to change down. I'm sure there is a way of turning it off, but I'm so lazy I can't be bothered to look in the manual. I'll just pop a bit of tape over it.

To say I loved my old Kangoo would be ridiculous, but I definitely had strong feelings for it. 

Good night sweet prince.

Other vans are available.

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