“It’s been a long time since the car has left me stranded. Indeed, it’s been running good for several months…”
That line of thought is a dangerous one to have when owning an old car. Particularly one with over a quarter century on its aging chassis, as is the case with my ’96 Golf. But such is with old cars; one can do maintenance, keep the ears perked for any new noises, check fluids, and do all the expected repairs as needed. Yet, no matter how close an eye one keeps, there’s an unease when such thoughts cross the mind. At least in my case.
Yes, the car felt good, but how long that would last? Was this just all too good?
Well, either I have ESP powers or as some folk say, “Stuff knows”. That October afternoon, just as I was exiting San Salvador and heading onto the highway to visit the countryside, my ’96 Golf started sputtering, doing bellicose hiccups as I pressed the gas pedal. Time to pull over and let the car roll to a stop. In a few seconds, after months of faithful service the car reminded me that if I felt it was too good, there was a reason for me to be suspicious. It had been, indeed, too good to be true. Now it was back to reality.
The hoses, in good condition in this shot.
Time to open the hood and see what the trouble was this time. For once, it came easy: a puddle of gas covered the fuel injection assembly. Clearly, the top gas hose had expired and the bottom one was nearing the end of its useful life.
Hoses! Easy repair! — If I had any around…
Luckily, I had yet to drive too far from the city. Unluckily, I was already far enough to have no hardware stores nearby. Finding a couple of hoses would be a hassle, with lots of back and forth: Wait for an Uber out there, look for some hardware store in areas I wasn’t acquainted with, all while dealing with the afternoon traffic already clogging up.
None of that would be done quickly, and who would watch over the car while I was gone?
Being Central America, with its cheap labor, I figured that as long as I was willing to fork out a few dollars, the whole matter could be solved quickly enough. Thus, the call to my usual mechanic:
- How much for you to haul my Golf on your tow truck and replace a couple of gas hoses before the end of the day?
- Let’s see, perhaps about $70 to $80…
I tried to do some quick mental acrobatics evaluating other scenarios: Uber rates to search for the hoses and time estimates on what that would take, but my mind just gave up before long. $70-$80? Not a cost that was a dealbreaker.
- Sure, come over and pick me up!
With that, he sent me via WhatsApp a photo of the tow truck that would come to my rescue (That’s Salvadorian efficiency for you!). And if I’m to trust Google Lens, it belonged to the International 4700 family. There it is above, looking quite glitzy and ready for action in the image I was sent.
With little for me to do but wait, time to stand by my car and just watch the traffic go by. And why not take a few pics for my fellow curbsiders in the meantime? Sure!
First to drive by is one you should all know. A fifth-generation Toyota pickup, still hard at work with what looks like a bedload of oranges, followed by…
A 1980s double cab Datsun/Nissan 720 truck.
A late model Suzuki Jimny, looking quite sharp. And yes, that’s my emergency cone looking rather emaciated. Poor thing has had a hard life.
Hey Kia buddy! I know what you’re going through! Care to hang out with me for a minute?
Then, a South American built Mercedes short-bonnet truck from the city’s garbage disposal. Stinky!
And notice the street vendors by the concrete divider?
Here they are again, in a clearer photo; a mother and son team. Halfway through my wait, the kid crossed over to see what I was doing with my car, being quite curious about the open hood.
- Dead battery? I can help you push it and get it going!
- Nope, busted gas lines. A tow truck is coming. Thanks…
- Oh, Ok. Hey, an uncle of mine had one of these VWs. They drive nice, you can feel the rush as they go and feel nice on curves. They’re good!
Atta boy, you have taste! I like you!
With that, he walked back to his mother, aptly crawling over the concrete divider. This kid knew his turf, and cars!
Soon after, another colorful event. A tractor pulled over to the road’s shoulder, parking some meters ahead of me. The doors opened, and the driver and his wife came out along with a pet dog on a leash.
- What the h…?
The trio casually walked past me, heading toward a shopping center about 500 meters away. A new little mall I have actually visited, stuffed with the modern trappings of such locations; McDonald’s, Pizza Hut, and some fast-fashion Korean franchises. No hardware stores however to find hoses, nor anywhere where a tractor truck could park.
The latter, dilemmas of truck drivers I had never considered.
Time to look at the road once again. Now an older Thomas bus, rather common in Salvadorian public transport. Next to it, one of those modern Kia Bongo trucks that seem to exist all over the nondeveloped world.
Not long after, about 45 minutes into the wait, the tow truck arrived. Being Central America, self-expression had to appear somewhere. This time, a colorful and mighty elephant illustration in the cargo bed, seemingly pulling my Golf to its rescue.
There were more surprises in the cabin, with a display of toy trucks glued to the dashboard. That and a Star Wars Stormtrooper watching over. I fail to gather the meaning of it all, but as I’ve said in previous posts, Salvadorians are quite into postmodernist self-expression. Mostly unintendedly.
The drive to the VW shop took a short half an hour and we got there twenty minutes before five pm. Having no interest in seeing a non-exciting gas hose replacement, I took a look around the shop. A rather early Type 181 “The Thing” was on a corner, waiting for some final touches after full restoration.
From what I gathered, some electrical work was missing, but otherwise, everything else pretty much done. For once, a paint job I didn’t mind. Maybe I should get that paint shop’s phone number…
While waiting, I also captured this ’86-’89 Celica parked up front. Or its remnants. This one has been part of the repair shop’s repertoire for a lo-o-o-ng time. I should ask what the story behind it is. Maybe a client who never came back for his car? That happens every so often in this nation, and I know there are a couple of such “leftover” cars inside the shop.
It was time to check on some old-time curbside classics I knew were nearby. This early ’70s Corona is about half a block away parked in front of a public notary’s office. I’ve featured it once before, and I see it has found a new ’70s Toyota partner to spend its days with.
15-20 minutes later, the hoses were in place. It was rush hour, however, and the idea of being stuck for 45 minutes in order to reach home was awfully unappealing.
How about a place to wait and let the traffic dwindle?
Well, the nearby McDonald’s of course! Just a couple of minutes away from the repair shop! (Tourist tip: If you wish to escape American franchises, San Salvador is not your town.)
And what do I find in the parking lot? A first gen. Toyota HiAce from the mid-’70s!
I talked about this HiAce generation in detail a while back, and it’s a vehicle that brings a flood of memories. Now, the cheap racy rims and fire decals are just make-believe. There was nothing fiery about these early HiAces, regardless of engine size (1.3, 1.5, 1.6 and 1.8). They were, however, quite efficient people haulers and lauded for their boxy roominess; at least in Asia and Latin America.
I took my time to finish my coffee and pastries, while I stared at the Don Rua church (a San Salvador landmark) from my booth. The day was ending, and unlike the rest of the afternoon, the drive back home later that evening would prove blissfully uneventful. Still, that afternoon of setbacks did leave a few memories I believe will take time to fade away.
So, if you can somehow control your car’s next breakdown (oxymoronic, I know), make sure to do it around folk who are colorful, and charge little for labor.
And as for the Golf, it’s been running good ever since. Too good, perhaps…
I know exactly what you mean. There are those (thankfully) rare times when you marvel at how smoothly the car is running when things suddenly go wrong and you end up sitting. My most recent experiences (two in short succession) were from a failing and then failed starter in my Mazda3. It’s been running fine since that was fixed. Uh-oh, I probably should not have said that.
The VW Golf is one of the few cars with a truly timeless design. It has been done for several decades and will continue to be done.