A few photos of the Series III enjoying life in the sun.
Idle Adrian decided to drive down to the beach – rather than walking. I suppose because it was late morning and hot.
So he got in – and discovered the starter motor was jammed. He did the usual stuff, whacked it kindly with a hammer, and put it into gear and rocked it backwards and forwards. No joy.
He took it out. Pretty quickly. And then had a beer. It was Sunday so he couldn’t do any more.
The next morning he put it on the back of the bike and cycled the 8 or 10k to the local town to get prices for a new one.
He went to the truck motor factor on the industrial estate that he had discovered when he was helping Bedford Truck Man. Cost 665€ plus IVA at 16%.
He cycled round the town. It’s one of those spread-out sort-of towns with a few hills to add variety.
He managed to get a few more prices. One went up to 776€ plus IVA and transport. But the same shop had another dealer and got a price of 540€ all included.
Poor old Worn-Out Cycling Adrian decided it wasn’t a good idea to come home and tell me this. So he stopped at the auto-electrician on the way home. It happens to be opposite a good bar too.
The auto-electrician is a good old boy. When we first came we had problems with the alternator. He checked to see if it was beyond all repair and sadly it was, so we had to stump up for a new one. We’ve used him ever since and he’s always seemed ok.
Anyway the jefe said he would take it apart and have a look – it would take half an hour or so. Best to wait at the bar opposite, thought Thirsty Adrian.
What a poppet (the old boy). Turned out the starter motor was ok, might need new bushes in a while, but he would clean it up for us. The solenoid was stuffed though. But 55€ for a new solenoid is a lot better than 540€ for a new starter motor.
Very Fit Cycling Adrian came happily back to pick up some money and went back to pick up the starter motor. The old boy wasn’t there. Critical Adrian went to the work bench and took a look at the insides of the starter motor. He stuck his finger on the suspicious-looking stuff. Oil.
“¿Qué pasa aquí?” One of the young urchins came to attention. We think it’s the grandson working in his school holidays.
“I’ve cleaned it,” he said, helpfully.
“Not with oil, you haven’t. It will just chupa the polvo.”
One of the not-so-young ones roared at him.
The jefe came back. He roared at the grandson even more. “It will chupa the polvo.”
“That’s what the foreigner said,” (the young one was catching on fast).
“That’s because the foreigner isn’t an idiot. You are though.”
Old jefe rolled his eyes, and said, “These young ones. They just don’t understand. I’ll clean it up properly for you. Sorry about that.”
Another beer called for. It’s pretty hot at the moment and cycling around with a heavy starter motor isn’t really that much fun.
When he went back to pick it up, the jefe had left it apart so that Critical Adrian could see it was cleaned up.
“I’ve used four litres of solvent to get rid of the oil. That would cost 40€.” Sad Spanish face – this job had become not very cost-effective, even allowing for the exaggeration. Then he connected it to the power. And it worked.
Happy Adrian handed over his money – no extra charge, obviously – and cycled back. New solenoid, cleaned-out starter motor, and a couple of beers and some chat.
And put it in this morning. Using a variety of props to support the motor while he screwed on the nuts. It worked when he turned the ignition too. Vrrrrm. In fact it starts up much better than before.
That’s probably why he had problems with the starter motor last year when he drove back to the UK. The solenoid had been slowly dying. A good result though. Another electrical fix – but the cost is always in the mechanical work for taking out and putting back. Today – Smug Partner.
But the bad news was that he had to throw away his 21-year-old T-shirt from Laura Ashley. When he took it off it ripped. And it was his best mechanicking one too. Gutted.
Any queries about what to do though – please ask in comments.
I have no idea what sort of axles and diffs I have on my Land Rover Santana 3.5 diesel 6 cylinder Station Wagon (DL Super).
They are not like any axles on any of the Land Rovers I have owned. They are not Rover, and they are not Salisbury. Could they be ENV? Both front and rear axles are very big and strong.
Can anyone shed any light on them for me?
If you have any idea please comment below (anonymous usually works ok). Thanks. Adrian
And their Land Rovers. Actually our Land Rovers.
So Eat Drink Breathe Sleep Talk SurfInternet Land Rovers Addicted Adrian decided to take off the roof yesterday and put on the hood sticks and the rag top.
Cool idea, especially being in Spain.
Well, yes, but we were meant to be going somewhere today. (No not shopping, that is his job too – not that he did much of it today.)
So when the roof is out on the street, along with the Lintrans dog kennel, he asks if we are going on the pre-arranged trip.
So he finishes off the hood sticks and rag top. Very nice it looked too.
And then can’t get the roof back in the corral.
Good one, mate.
Here is a view of some local scenery.
Adrian likes Land Rovers. Of any sort – if they are old.
And the dog already has his own blog, so I am certainly not, and I mean not, maintaining a Landyblog – well not until today that was.
So here is a Land Rover Santana Forward Control Series 2B which lives not far out the back of us.
It is used on an aguacate finca (avocado farm) and it takes the aguacates to the local corrida (wholesale veg market) in our village.
It often drives past our house, but sadly Land Rover Smitten Adrian never has the camera on him.
So one day he found it when he was having a brief wander.
For any similarly smitten people – drool on. It’s the only one we have seen here in Andalucia.
Camping is fine in Spain.
In winter the place is full of Northern Europeans in campervans/motorhomes. A lot of the coastal campsites are chocka, but many people prefer to wild camp by the beach.
Partly for cost, but partly because it’s nice.
Summer is a pain because it is full of noisy families, and the staff on camp sites can’t keep up to the cleaning fast enough.
Anyway we splashed out on our first “proper” holiday in five years and paid for a camp site. I nearly died – 35Euros!!!! A night!!!!! And that was charging us for a small tent. Since when have the prices gone up so much?
You can still get a hotel for that price, although admittedly it won’t be set in the midst of idyllic woodland where you can sit outside all day enjoying the peace and tranquility.
Nor will your Excitable Land Rover Partner go round every French person on site who he sees in a Land Rover asking them where they have been and discussing riveting things like parabolic springs.
He was very happy that all the Land Rovers he saw entering the site came to park next to us. Our own little colony of Land Rovers.
Never let it be said the French aren’t polite though. The guy opposite with a Defender was happily setting off for the toilet in the morning – quite clearly clutching his toilet roll – when Excitable Land Rover Partner collared him to discuss tyres and springs.
Did Adrian notice the toilet roll? No. Did the French guy stand there patiently when he quite clearly wanted to be somewhere else? Yes.
I did have a quiet word with Adrian when I could stop laughing, but it won’t be of any use. If he wants to talk about Land Rovers with someone he would probably follow them down to the toilet block if necessary. And back. Without pausing for breath.
“Hello, you speak English?”
“Yes, of course,” said Adrian. “What do you want from me?” Somebody always wants something here.
“I would like to buy one of these,” he said, (referring to the vehicle). “This type of Land Rover.”
“Well, you can, it will cost you around 8,000€.”
And the woman said, “We can’t afford that.”
So Unhelpful Adrian said that was the price they would have to pay for one that was not falling to bits.
“I only want it for in the fields,” the guy added.
“Well, I know where you can get one for 2,000€, no papers, and looks rough, but hey, if that’s what you want. You will need to spend at least six months working on it if you ever want to come shopping in it.”
Then there was a long discussion about the garage where we bought the vehicle. How good were they, was there any after service, what about the language problems…..
The woman then said that she didn’t mind paying if she got something decent. They lived up a dirt track and the Ford Littlecar (partner didn’t remember the model as he switched off due it not being a Land Rover) couldn’t cope in the mud.
It was also British registered. “You won’t be wanting to use it here then when your tax and insurance run out,” said Unhelpful Adrian. “Although we know lots of people who do.”
No, she admitted, running an illegal motor wasn’t top of her list. Especially one that couldn’t cope in the mud.
I wonder if Unhelpful Adrian will get a beer from Roberto if they buy a 4×4 from him? I doubt it somehow.