A sick turbocharger

Money was the focus of this day. I got the turbo to the repairer in Fyshwick. Fortunately, I got a lift to my repairer’s workshop from my kindly landlady to pick up the turbo, and she dropped me off at the bus stop on the way to work. It must be about a 20 minute drive to Fyshwick but on the bus this turned into something in excess of an hour trip. The bus wound in and around so many back streets and byways that I almost lost my sense of direction. Still it was good to be able to see a few places I hadn’t seen before. It was an interesting joy ride. Though I suspect the few passengers nearby were wondering what I had on the floor by my feet as when I went to pick up my turbo, despite it being in a plastic bag and cardboard box, it had begun to loose a bit of black engine oil, leaving a little grease spot on the floor. Thankfully, the repair workshop, Cooma Diesel, wasn’t too far form the bus stop. I began to feel the weight of the thing as I reached the place.

I didn’t really expect the $460 that was quoted when I rang some months ago, with a general enquiry. What can you expect over the phone when it can’t be inspected in any way. I was expecting something in the region of $600 because of the amount of smoke that had been billowing from the back of the car. However, I didn’t expect to hear mention of $1000 for the repair. They suspected that the core was entirely worn out. With a new core installed I’d essentially have a new turbo on the car. I only have $600 in the bank; S has already used up her $400 and needs more money.

Anyway, at least its happening and I’ll be getting my car back on the road shortly, and as I walked back to the bus stop I was wondering how I can possibly pay for this. I’ll try and extend the limit on my credit card. If I can boost it by $1000 I could give S all the cash I have, then we’ll both be okay.

I managed to jump back on the same bus that I came down to Fyshwick on, which was rather nice as it’d save an hour or so wait, and it gave me a chance to clean up the greasy mess I’d left on the floor of the bus on the way down. It’s funny how some things just work out. All is right with the world.