How the Angoulême trip ended

Our short getaway to Angoulême, in the Charente département (southwestern France), was drawing to a close. We got all packed up starting Thursday evening and finishing Friday morning. The weather was still warm and clear, so the drive home would be pleasant, I thought. I thought we might do some more sight-seeing during the drive. I wanted to see Limoges, having never been there. Limoges is just two hours south of Saint-Aignan. With just 300 kilometers to cover — that's 185 miles — we would have time to look around and still get home well before dark.

Well, that wasn't to be. The gîte owners (who live next door) came over at 9 a.m. to do a cursory inspection of the place before we hit the road. They wanted to make sure everything was there that was there when we arrived, of course. They wanted to see if the TV, kitchen stove, and other appliances were in working order. They also wanted to be sure that we hadn't forgotten anything that was ours. That was a good thing because, as you remember, I had forgotten my camera bag at home when we left to drive to Angoulême and hadn't taken any pictures all week.

We said good-bye and talked about the trip and the gîte with our hosts. Walt was going to drive, and I would do my best as the navigator. He started the Citroën, and there was suddenly an audible screeching noise coming from under the hood. I asked the owner what he thought that was. It was a noise I'd never heard before. He said, well, I know a good bit about cars and car engines. That kind of noise could be coming from the alternator belt, or it could be coming from the clutch. He told Walt to push down on the clutch pedal (it's a stick shift car). The noise got louder. Let the pedal out, he said. The screeching was not as loud. It's the clutch, he said.

Merde, I thought. Here we are with a dog and a trunk full of our belongings, including a cooler filled with food we were taking back home with us. What are we going to do if the clutch goes out completely, stranding us somewhere out in the country. Walt put the car in gear, and that worked. We backed out of the driveway. He shifted gears again to go forward, and that worked. Good news. We waved at the owners and headed out. After the first couple of miles, we came to a stop sign. When Walt pushed in the clutch to put the car in first gear, he let up the clutch, and the car stalled out with a loud clunk. We sat there for a minute and talked about what we were going to do. We have insurance that covers towing charges and a rental car to bail us out in case there's a break-down or an accident.

Here's a picture of the 2007 Citroën C4 that I took a few months ago.

We decided that we should try just to get home and forget about doing any sight-seeing along the way. The closer we were to home if the car really broke down, the better off we would be. We decided to take the high-speed autoroute instead a drive on narrow, winding (and scenic) roads. On the autoroute you have to do very little shifting. You just get the car into fourth gear and drive along in the slow lane at 60 or 70 mph. That's what we did. We drove past the city of Poitiers, where we came to a toll booth. That would be a test, because we'd have to stop the car to get a ticket and then hope we could get moving again. Good news: we did, and we continued the trip.

The second tool booth, where we had to pay the toll, was another stop for us. The clutch was working better and better, it seemed. A third toll booth required another stop as we left Tours going east toward Saint-Aignan. But we were close to home at that point and were feeling better about our prospects. Soon we were at the Saint-Aignan toll booth and we had made it. If we broke down, we'd call our insurance company and somebody would come and tow the car, plus, I assume, give us a ride home, where the Peugeot was parked. We'd be able to drive to our mechanic's shop and transfer our trunk-load of stuff into 206 and the trip would be over.

Well, that's not what happened. The Citroën kept going and we made it all the way home. Between the exit from the autoroute and home, we were in a short line of three or four cars waiting to enter a traffic circle when suddenly there was a loud bang behind us. The car behind us had rear-ended the Citroën (at low speed). There was no damage, fortunately. Now it was about 12:30. We unpacked the car and breathed a sigh of relief because we had arrived home and our house was in good shape, undisturbed by anybody or anything during our absence. Tasha was glad to be back in her own yard. It was time for her lunch, and for ours. I told Walt that I would wait until Monday to call the mechanic. I needed to get something to eat and then relax for a while.

I did call the mechanic on Monday, and he gave me an appointment for Tuesday morning to have the car checked out. Yes, it needs a new clutch, he said. The car is, after all, 16 years old. It looks and drives like a new car, but it's not. It has only about 65,000 miles on the odometer. A clutch shouldn't need replacing until close to or even past 125,000 miles.The Peugeot's clutch needed replacing at 112,000 miles, a few years ago. I think I need to go talk to my insurance agent about it. I'm not ready to get a new (or newer) car. I hate the prospect of having to spend days and days looking for one I like. Maybe I should go ahead and buy a new one, but we drive so little that I don't want to spend that kind of money. Car prices are sky high these days.

If we ever go on another road trip, I'll rent a car. The trip will be less stressful.