One of the few tools I’m qualified to operate is a packet of baby wipes, so it’s an early start today for the mini-est of mini valets in hopes of avoiding exiting the ’64 stinking of oil. After a bit of a once-over, it’s away to sunny Kings Heath.

What a bone-shaker! The roads are abysmal around here, and every lump and bump gets whacked through the car. A little bit of race optimisation occurred on the way there when navigating a roundabout. One of the hubcaps flew off, never to be seen again! But hey, another 20 or so miles on the clock and after a whopping three whole days my conviction to the cause is remaining strong.

Arrived at Dave’s with feet and fingers frozen, but in one piece. Parking in his street was a breeze compared with my normal efforts in a car twice the size. Tried playing tunes on my ‘phone in lieu of a radio but given the noise put out by the radio, that didn’t work. So a few emails sent to local I.C.E places to organise some entertainments. We managed to get home again without losing any more hubcaps so overall a decent trip!