After returning from Cornwall with the racing seats all efforts turned towards a subsequent trip to France, hopefully a more successful outing than the last cross-Channel effort.
Fitting the seats was time consuming and a little confusing since, needless to say, they came without any instructions and much like the car they're designed to fit, no two are the same. It was my intention to fit the seats to the original runners, but this meant removing said runners from the old seats. Only after spending two hours doing this did it then become apparent that the runners were pretty much useless so far as the new seats are concerned. The mounting points are all completely different. In the end I opted for the far simpler idea of bolting the seats directly to the floor. Although this negates any future adjustment, it also negates loaning the car to anyone unless they can admit to being exactly the same size and shape as me, and I'm not sure a drive of the car is worth that in anyone's book.
After my exploratory spannering with the driver's seat you'd think the passenger side would be much easier. But you'd think wrong and it took twice as long despite the lack of any seat runner-related nonsense. I have no idea why this is. I guess it's just another aspect of hand built aluinium car ownership. You can never rely on two cars being identical, and neither are the driver and passenger areas of the cabin/cockpit mirror images of one another.
So, seats fitted the car was loaded for the trip to France, the Normandy coast to be precise, to visit various sites relating to the D-Day landings of over sixty years ago.
Travelling in the company of Rob and Becky in Rob's Crossflow, the trip was a successful mission with none of the failings of my previous Gallic excursion. The cars drew admiration wherever we went, possibly due to the French driving only Renault Meganes, in silver, less than four years old. They may do very good cuisine, but clearly cannot apply the same flair to their automotive choices.
After a night crossing on LD Lines (who I'd highly recommed) we headed West over Le Pont du Normandie then stopped in Honfleur for breakfast. Being a Sunday we assumed there'd be no parking charges, then used our best Franglais to convince ourselves that the signs in the car park confirmed this. What they actually confirmed was that parking charges applied evey day, even Sundays. Rob made the observation that as the sign wasn't in German and the parking fees weren't in Deutschemarks they couldn't possibly apply to us. Alas they did. However, a parking ticket was not forthcoming, instead we got a little note from the town Police asking us not to forget to pay the car parking charges. Not so much a parking ticket, more a parking reminder. This is an example of why life in France is so relaxed.
We pressed on towards Carantan, taking in Pegasus Bridge along the way with it's full size Horsa glider replica. This has a lot in common with a Caterham, or to be more precise it has very little in common with a Caterham since like the car, there isn't much to it. Simple, but effective.
After a couple of days in Carantan we started heading East again, taking a slower route to encompass the various cemeteries and sites of interest. These were as moving as they are fascinating, all for different reasons. The scale of those historical events is mind blowing, yet at the same time the little details still shine through in places and the importance of tea to the British forces at least, was much in evidence.
The naivity of American tourists was also much in evidence when we were asked if the Caterhams were "some kind of old Porsche?" by a curious colonial on-looker in St Mere Eglise.
I cannot think of a more suitable car to explore Normandy and it's recent history in than a Seven, with the possible exception of a Willys Jeep. On more than one occasion when climbing in to the car, the clink of stainless steel harness buckles; the click of simple toggle switches; the sound of over-fuelled carbs gurgling in to life, all seemed so very appropriate and reminiscent of much of the technology filling the plentiful museums around Carantan and Caen. Whether it was on vehicles, aircraft or infrastructure, Allied or Axis, the lack of any plastic throw-away parts and an absence of electronics was reassuring and is perhaps lost in a museum.
After a long week in the sun, and boy was it a scorcher of a week, the Seven's temperature has been rising a little high lately, so no doubt time to top up the coolant and get round to fitting a fan over-ride switch.
