Oh Guinevere

Life is full of sneaky twists and turns. My 1950’s sex kitten found herself ensnared in a dark, hot, rail car carrier, with no intention of leaving. Much to my bitter disappointment! Although brute force and a little ingenuity dissolved that disappointment into some barely disguised joy.

My mechanic, Kevin, and I set off good and early for the Cape Town Station. I call Kevin the mechanic, but he owns a garage in my town that specialises in Jaguars, so he is way more than that. We arrived early and as luck would have it, the train arrived two hours late! A chance encounter with my mom broke the tedium of waiting on platform 24 for transport that seemed determined not to arrive. She offered to stay with us but luckily we packed her off on a different train home.


It did arrive in its own sweet time, disgorging its multitudes of passengers, and heaps of dirty bed linen, before beginning the process of shunting its two car carriers. That took a little longer! The car carriers spewed forth car after car, none of which resembled my precious Guinevere. I was a little apprehensive, unsure if she was there, or even if I had made a good decision to acquire her.

And then we saw her. Parked at the back of the top level of the car carrier; grey and forlorn. She had spent the whole trip sulking and so refused to start. That posed a little problem considering it was pitch dark and more than a tight squeeze. Her handbrake had been wrenched up so high that her brakes were locked in place and so pushing her out was out of the question.

The railway staff lost interest and abandoned us to our tinkering. I am not sure how much we fixed, but we sweated buckets. We were still trying to figure her out when the last of the Shoshaloza Meyl staff saluted us on his way home. There we were, abandoned in hot box on a siding in the busy Cape Town Station, trying to entice an old two ton beauty queen to leave the darkness. It was a little surreal.

So, the engine would not start, the brakes were locked, and we were dripping with sweat. And then we discovered something even worse! We had known that the air had been let out of the tyres to get her into the carrier, but we did not realise she was standing on her rims. With only two centimetres between her roof and the carrier roof, there was no way we could jack her up and inflate them.

Without a word, we downed tools and went in search of chocolate. We discovered chicken burgers instead, and fantasized about Guinevere, the grey phantom, that prowls the railway lines between Johannesburg and Cape Town, stuck deep in a car carrier.

Revived, we got busy thinking! Kevin called in a family favour, and a flat bed was soon on its way. A massive rope was found on a track and hooked up to the back of Kevin’s bakkie. With barely 10 metres of space between the end of the ramp and a beautiful glass wall, and a high voltage cable above our heads, much was at stake.

Slowly and with agonising noise, we hauled her out of her hole, a couple of meters at a time. She inched down the ramp and stopped at the bottom, wedged on her rims and exhaust. Some clever jacking, reseating of the tyres, and inflation, saw her sitting proud once again. Then she had to be towed in reverse along the platform and out into the star lit world.

Her tyres and rims are probably history, but I was delighted to have her close to home. I am looking forward to courting her, and the world of adventure that we will tackle together!