One and a half days before the MG saloon day show I finally finished the bulk of the electrical wiring and mechanical repairs to my Maestro campervan. I decided to take it to work to show off my creation to my colleagues and give it run out to stretch its legs. This was the first real drive I had been on in my van (nicknamed Jane) The performance was very disappointing on the open road with the diesel engine obviously showing its age, (200,000 miles), and it had to be worked very hard just to keep up with the traffic on the Ml. I took it out at lunchtime to get a few final bits and pieces needed to complete the project including all the necessarys for a oil and filter flush and change. Apart form the poor starting the engine seemed to be running a little better. The time came for me to head home and although producing a rather impressive cloud of smoke on startup the blast up the Ml seemed a little better than the run into work. My mobile phone rang, it was a friend so I pulled into a layby to answer the call. With the diesel engine not being the quietest in the world I turned it off to better hear the latest shenanigans of my friend. The time came to head back to the open road, and she started first time. However the oil light remained on. I blipped the throttle and still it remained on. My heart sank as I quickly shut her down and rang for assistance. I tried a new oil sender pressure switch and even dropped the sump to see the oil pickup pipe was blocked but to no avail. The campervan was pronounced dead.

At this point I should probably point out that the following day I was supposed to be camping in it at MG saloon day, and the following weekend a fortnight touring Scotland was planned. After a hasty change in plans and digging out the tent I attended MG saloon day in our old faithful maestro which keeps on running and running. But how was I to fix the car before the next weekend so I could take it to Scotland? At this point my knight in shining armour, Tony Hague, (I bet he has never been called that before!), stepped in and offered some sane words of advice and more than a little help. We decided that the current engine was a write off, simply because of its age and the fact that I already had a turbo diesel engine replacement sat literally 6 feet away. The problem was it was sat inside another car. With my work commitments could not take time off of work so all the necessary work had to be done in the evenings. Tony generously offered his assistance in the evenings and so work commenced in earnest. Most things went smoothly enough with only the gear linkage pins proving difficult to remove until a tool was fabricated to do the job. The wiring on the engines was slightly different but with some help and advice from the maestro club forums the job was done. During the engine change a new cambelt and new clutch were fitted as this was thought prudent. Other tasks were also done at this time which included the addition of a power steering rack and pump assembly which is considerably easier with the engine removed and the renewal of the 200,000 mile old shock absorbers, which although not leaking were well past their prime.

Once the engine was in the campervan it was cranked over to test the engine electricals. Nothing was yet plumed in, no coolant, no fuel and no exhaust but the engine immediately sprang into life. Things were starting to look up. All the various ancillarys were connected with the exhaust being “adjusted” to fit. The power steering was 99% complete however when I purchased the parts necessary for the conversion the belt tensioner plate was omitted meaning that I could fit all of the components but could not fit a belt to drive the pump. Still this was a fairly minor thing I thought considering time was now tight and the weekend had arrived for departure to Scotland. The van was finished on the Sunday afternoon after much help from Tony and my partner Lindsey. On Sunday night wetook the van for its test drive to Tonys house some 15 miles away. The amount of electrical work I had done on the van had been extensive with many new electrical circuits being added and extended. One of the few circuits to escape my pliers was the interior lamp, and would you believe as I journeyed over to my friends that the cabin was filled with the smell of burning plastic and sparks were s een from the interior lamp. My heart sank once more at the thought of all my work going up in flames but I stopped the vehicle and extracted the lamp from the headlining. A rather simple design fault was the cause when the interior lamp is inserted in a car the wrong was up nothing happened however on the van models the live circuit shorts out on the aerial above. I wondered why the fuse didn’t blow as it should have done and after a few glances at my fusebox (which until now had remained untouched during my wiring frenzy) was full of fuses of far too high a rating. For example my interior lamp was fused at 30 amps. After much swapping of fuses they are all now back to standard and they are much the safer for it.

After this eventful run the van was crammed to the gills with all the necessary things needed for a fortnight of camping in the wilds of Scotland, and then begun its baptism of fire. Will the van make it, will the hurried engine change remain solid and will I arrive home under my own power or on a low loader?

Part 2.

The baptism of fire began. After my hasty engine change the van clattered into life at the first turn of the key. Well this was an improvement I thought. Crammed full of clothes, food, and all the necessary things for a fortnight in the wilds of Scotland it began the long journey north. On Monday lunchtime the wheels started rolling, albeit the steering was a little heavy due to the missing power steering belt and tensioner. As the miles slowly started climbing my confidence soared. The engine was virtually unknown to me. I had heard it running and even had a brief trip in the donor car some 9 months previously when I purchased the vehicle for its engine and gearbox, but it had been laid up ever since.

The van trundled onto the M6 and we headed for the border. Our first stop was at an old university friend’s house in Kirkcudbright, Ayrshire. It was good to catch up with an old friend who had been out of the country for quite a while. After a walk around the stunning gardens of our host (the family business is a garden nursery) we were treated to a lovely slap up meal and then offered a place to stay if we wished. Well we hadn’t yet tried the bed in the campervan but with such generous hospitality on offer it would have been rude to refuse the offer. After a restful nights sleep helped by a visit to the local public house, I did the usual checks of oil and water and was relieved to see that both were still present!

We then continued our journey northwards. We headed north along the Ayrshire coast and north past Glasgow. We took in some of the sights of Loch Ness then decided to try the camper out in earnest by rough camping at the side of a very rural road in an old disused field gateway, (Something which isn’t frowned upon north of the boarder). By now I was starting to regret not taking the time to find the parts to finish off the power steering system, as my arms started to ache. Then we headed for Fort William in the shadow of Ben Nevis where we stayed, then on toward the Isle of Skye, which we bypassed on this trip. And again we headed North. We headed toward Ullapool and stayed at a little spot above the picturesque village of Shieldaig. We then went on a “scenic drive” which was a circular route around one of the isolated peninsula’s. The route was indeed very lovely along isolated roads however the large warning signs proclaiming how the route should not be attempted in bad weather or in a long vehicle were a little alarming. Toward the end of the journey the reasons for these dire warnings became obvious. As we left the picture postcard fishing village of Applecross to head toward the main road, the road kept climbing ever steeper and steeper. As downshifted to first gear for a particularly long and steep stretch of the ascent up the mountainside I prayed that I didn’t meet anything coming the other way. After what seemed like an eternity we finally reached the top where a large car park has been placed right on top of the mountain. I remarked that it was probably there for people to repair their cars in or steady their nerves, and I wasn’t far wrong.

After such an ordeal getting to the top I decided it would be a good spot for lunch and to let the van cool off, (it had reached about 3/4s the way up the gauge which is almost unheard of for a diesel with no cooling problems.) After lunch I popped my head under the bonnet to do the usual checks and found I was very low on water. After some poking about I found that one of the hose clips to the heater hadn’t been tightened when the engine was re-fitted. If that was the only fault from a rapidly changed engine then I was happy. It had taken over 1000miles and the steepest hill I have ever seen to show the fault, which was fixed in a couple of minutes. Now the coolant system had been tested it was time to test the brakes. The other side of the road was as steep as the first but with the interesting addition of alpine style hairpin bends. We spent another night at Shieldaig before heading along the round run to John O Groats. On the way we stopped at Smoo cave and took a little boat journey up into the cavern. We stayed at a campsite right on the John O Groats point and also visited the most northerly point in the UK Dunnet Head. Now there was only one way to head and that was south.

We went for a paddle on a beach near Dornoch en-route and then on southward, past Inverness and onto the shores of Loch Ness. We stayed near Urquhart castle and then moved onto Fort George to take in some military history after making a brief pit stop for some oil for the van.

We then headed cross-country toward Balmoral across some of the most scenic roads I’ve seen. We camped in the middle of no-where then headed on to the holiday residence of our royal family. After a visit to the house we then went on toward Pitlochry where my Girlfriend, (our club chairperson) managed to convince me to go white water rafting. After a rather invigorating trip in which I spent most of my time outside of the boat, we warmed up and headed off on the road again.

We descended the East Coast and camped near St Andrews. We visited Scotland’s Secret Bunker, (which isn’t very secret as it is even marked on the map!), which was an interesting and chilling lesson in cold war history as well as being a great wet weather activity. I even managed to log on to our club web-site to tell everyone that my van hasn’t broken down yet from the depths of the bunker on a public access computer based in the café. We then headed to Edinburgh where we went for a wander around the ex-Royal yacht Britannia that was very interesting, if a little “touristy” for my tastes. We then headed off for the long drive to spend a weekend with my parents in North Wales where I finally managed to locate but not fit the missing piece of power steering bracket in a scrap yard and then finally back home to Sheffield. All in all we covered over 2300 miles, averaged about 42mpg and had very few problems aside from my arms resembling Popeye’s at the end of the trip.