I'm Back, the full size terrorists didn't get me, but the little ones did!

Well you will be overjoyed to hear that I'm back from annual leave full refreshed and raring to go writing this load of drivel. I can't believe that this stuff actually gets read - Phineas Taylor Barnum was right.


Funny headline of yours I hear you cry across the interspaz. Well you'll be near orgasmic to learn that my flights remained on time and it was hand luggage a go-go.

Normally 100% of this blog has no reference to any form of reality. However, the following I promise is true. Little terrorists? Well here goes...

We arrived at the rustic venue in Spain our friends was getting married. In the car-park was an Series III 109" LandRover CKD Santana as a display thingy. (With optional safari roof!) See actual item above left. As some of you are aware out in interspaz land I'm a big fan of all things LandRover. Lifting the heavy cases out of the car I made a mental note to return for a proper *anal* inspection.

A few days later as the sun was setting I decided that now was my chance - I made a break from the family, put my metaphorical anorak on and made a dash for it. May I also add at this point that I'd had a bit to drink.

Sad nacker LandRover fans out there will be fully aware that you can access the engine compartment catch without having to access the cab. 'Pop' went the bonnet and I lifted it fully up and onto it's elbowed latch. I had a real good look around. The battery was missing - as you would expect for a display item, but everything was in place except for some odd modification.

You see dear reader, please bear with the 'tech' speak a little longer, LandRovers of that age either come with an oil bath air intake for cooler climates, or more commonly for hotter climates a more efficient centrifugal air cleaning intake. This little baby had a modification I hadn't seen before.

It was some sort of 'honeycombed' system. A bit like the 'Webber' stuff you can get now-a-days for carburetors. Hmmm, interesting. So I gave it a firm squeeze.

I quickly discovered it wasn't an air cleaner, but a wasps nest. Bugger. I was in for trouble.

Boy did they kick my arse as I raced across the car-park. Wasps stinging starting on my hands and going right up my arms. I retreated back to the bar but at least I didn't cry. As far as I'm aware the bonnet remains up to this day.

Anyroad, it's good to be back.

Stay away from LandRovers kids. No good will come of it.