Team ‘Southend Or Bust’
Would you believe it! James, Martin and Seb are back again because I can’t think of any other characters to use!
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James Hurley - 22 year old actually named after the Twin Peaks character by his mother, and not even for a joke. Still your stereotypical CarThrottle fan, only now he’s working as a Market Data Analyst for a business investment firm in London. Has almost saved up enough for his dream BMW 3 series, has a thing for Emma Stone and is the best amateur cook there is.
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Seb Anitolo - 21 year old Spanish guy with a Geography degree that, like most people who take Geography, he has no idea what to do with. He’s been back at home in Guadalajara for a while whilst trying to find a job in Madrid, but it hasn’t been easy so far. Has been known to attract both women and men with his thick black hair, which he keeps perfectly maintained via a kit-bags worth of products.
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Martin Deenham - 22 year old with a not-so-secret love of indie rock, and the only one with proper mechanical experience. Like many post-grad students, he’s currently working as an accountant, because his degree is worth shit all else. Still very, very particular about everything, but he’s managed to end up in a relationship, which James isn’t salty about at all.
We pick up the action 3 weeks before the start date at an industrial car park near to the Bristol dockyards, UK. The boys are here to see their car before it’s shipped off to Brazil before being driven inland to Bolivia via lorry. To shake things up, James insisted that he choose the car and prep it, as Martin had done so on the previous 4 challenges they’d taken part in.
Martin stared aghast at what stood before him, before uttering a single, determined word; “No”.
Seb, who stood next to him, flicked his eyes between the car and James, who stood next to it with his usual smug grin. His long hair swayed gently in the sea breeze. Even he knew this was a very, very bad choice of car.
Martin looked at James, his expression conveying a look of ‘did you not just hear my disgust?’. He tried to get his message across once more: “Are you taking the fucking piss?”
James’ smug smile continued. “Nope, because I have faith in this thing”.
“That’s not the kind of faith you should trust in” said Seb, coming over quite religious.
What James had decided to go for was a 1998 Series 1 Enactor Estate Roamer, in LSE V8 trim. So long as it had been kept in good nick, that meant this was probably a safe bet for a massive off road trek such as this, and certainly the best option if you wanted to stay comfortable.
But as anyone with even the slightest knowledge of British cars over the last 20 years knew, Estate Roamers had a habit of a) not being kept as well as they should be and b) being packed with lots of equipment that was too ahead of its time to have been designed reliably, affordably and could easily be maintained. Case in point, this Corporate Grey coloured example.
James showed the other lads the inside. “Look, I know what you’re thinking Martin. But I have worked this through”.
What Seb and Martin discovered was a ripped out interior, with none of the leather-clad seats or button-splattered dashboard. Almost all of it was gone, save for the dials and the chunky 90s steering wheel.
“See, the biggest thing that goes wrong on these old beasts is the electronics. You know that, of course” he said, directed at Martin, who was recalling the time a customer came into his garage with an Estate Roamer whose windows would not wind down if the car had been unlocked via the remote locking on the key fob even if the ignition had been engaged.
“So I got rid of all of it. I just chopped out all of the clunky electronics, the security, the lot” explained James, proudly.
Seb and Martin’s faces turned more aghast.
“But what about the onboard computer thingy?” queried Seb.
“Well, thankfully, that old bugger is too simple for its own good. So long as it gets an electronic signal from some form of ignition, it turns on the engine and works properly”. James was explaining everything in terms that clearly made him feel clever to say. Martin, however, worried that he was speaking complete and utter rubbish.
James had replaced the ignition with some generic part and wide it all himself. The central locking had been removed whilst gutting out the interior, meaning the old key was only used to open the doors manually. In theory - and that really does just mean in theory - this would work.
At least, it worked in a garage in the temperate climate of western England. As for how it would cope in the Bolivian rainforest and across the Andes was another question. And it wasn’t like the rest of the car was in great condition; the Erin NS8-B 3.8l V8 was seriously showing it’s age (though Martin was secretly glad that he would at least have an idea of how to work on it given his experience with Erins) and down on about 30/40 hp; the body work was iffy to say the least, with the supposedly corrosion-resistant steel chassis and panels looking thoroughly bashed about; and as for that Erin-derived all-wheel drive system, well, the service history was not promising.
“If this fucks up, you’re dead to me” said Seb.
“I know. It’s a risk” said James.
“At least you’re being honest” Seb replied.
“I should also warn you guys that it wasn’t cheap” mumbled James. He knew that line was going to go down like a lead balloon.
Martin sighed. “How much?”
“Well we have just shy of £90 left to spend” said James, tentatively.
Martin raised his eyebrows. Seb gave a glum stare into the distance.
Still, at least they already knew it wasn’t going to be an unventful adventure for Southend Or Bust…
