📍 ///successfully.clerics.mountains
The night was great, despite the various things on our minds. First of all: will we be able to reach Seydisfjördur and catch the ferry? Without that, it's like dominoes... nothing goes right, everything goes wrong. And we don't dare think about it.
We need a solution. I'm going to look for a mechanic. Gabrielle is staying at the guesthouse to paint.
Three garages in town, I should be able to find one that can diagnose all this. No connection between the belt and the brakes: this is an incredible coincidence. But still, it's strange. The first is overbooked, the second too, the third... no one, neither at the garage nor on the phone. Not great.
At least this morning I only had one breakdown. And by using the engine brake and the handbrake, I'm just about able to move forward.
I contact my insurance company: new plan. I put the car on the ferry, heading to Denmark, and there they reopen a file, organize repatriation, rental, all that. It seems possible.
There's one more detail. How do you get over the pass between Egilsstaðir and Seydisfjördur... without brakes? The climb is fine. The descent at 10%? Much less so.
I'm trying a dry run today. At the top of the pass, I finally understand the expression "you can't see 2 meters ahead." And I'm being generous. Glued to the windshield, I search for centimeters. The descent as planned, not crazy: the engine screams, I use the handbrake. In the end, this fog isn't so bad, at least I can't see where I'll end up if I mess up.
Having arrived at Seydisfjördur without too much difficulty, I'm leaving straight away: I'll have to be ready tomorrow.
On the way back, I start thinking about Denmark, the things we'll have to carry on our backs between trains and boats... when suddenly: another breakdown. Stranded at the side of the road. No rain, no wind, no fog. Network, at least. But calling the insurance company, we know what it's worth.
Hop, warning triangle, orange vest, I get out the jack. Is it the rear wheels, or just the front ones, that are locking up? A 4x4 stops: the driver insists on helping me. He knows someone in a garage. He leaves, and I continue my tests... and then he comes back: he's found me the best mechanic in Iceland. If he can't fix it, no one can. I offer him my Swiss Army knife as a thank you. He can't imagine what he's just done.
Jonas, the providential mechanic, takes a quick look, asks me to put away the jack and the triangle, and tells me to follow him to the garage... without brakes. There, he lifts the car, slides under the pedals... and pulls out a nut between his fingers. The culprit.
A nut that had slipped down to the master cylinder piston, randomly blocking the pressure. The 20-cent breakdown.
10000 ISK later, everything is settled.
I return to the guesthouse with a little newfound lightness.
More… later.
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