The S of T, Pt. 2: Upon departing the rental lot, a strange orange light appeared in the dash, like a penguin flying over a choppy sea in the rain. As mysterious as a Viking twig rune. No manual in the van. I googled to no avail. Later, text appeared: ADBLUE LOW. I googled again.
The SoT, Pt. 3: This second google occurred while a child upchucked on the roadside. “Will low adblue damage engine?” I asked the world. “No,” the world replied. “But your torque and performance will be reduced.” Ah. No worries, then. I’m on low speed single track anyway. Alas...
Ye SoT, 4: ...the vomit stopped and I did not read further. I did not google adblue again for days, until we finally reached the lovely Isle of Mull (pop: 2600) and the cheery harborside town of Tobermory (pop: 1000). After a lovely meal, we hopped back into our distrusty steed.
SOT5: Evening has fallen. Saturday night in Tobermory was graveyard silent. Our hotel was on the far side of the island, next to the ferry we were scheduled to catch the next morning. And then our van joined in the chorus of silence. Key turns, van chirps: 0 MILES TOP UP ADBLUE.
ST6: And now I have more time to read the many songs of adblue worship which the internet contains. With five kids and a wife sharing my silent van, all asking questions, I prioritize research. Yes, my van could start and run without it. But such a nefarious deed is impossible.
<Intermission> due to @mrsndw phone confiscation.
The Saga of T, Pt. 7: Legislation in Europe prohibits my ignition from functioning. @mrsndw begins calling @SixtUK and then @renault_uk. I read. Adblue, it turns out is 30%+ urea: super urine. Also, when googling what to do when adblue runs out, I feel quite judged.
ST8: The answers online always boil down to: don’t run out, running out is stupid, be an adult. Also, bypassing the system is illegal in the EU and would require me to replace the entire exhaust system and a computer chip. Leaving the wimminfolk, the boys and I head out on foot.
ST9: In the growing darkness, we find a food coop near close. Most locals haven’t heard of adblue. One says: garage opens tomorrow morning. Or afternoon. Try there. We find the garage beside @Tobermory whisky, locked up tight. Next door, a pub. I ask the publican...
SagaT10: ...if he knows the garage owner. He doesn’t, but points me to a Large Fellow drinking heavily outside. LF doesn’t know either, but he teaches my sons new Scottish ways to curse when he hears our sitch. Oddly, he promises to post our need on the local message board.
ST11: LF also recommends that we fill the adblue tank with water. I’ve already googled that option, and am not far from that last ditch. I tell him that I might break into the garage and leave cash behind. He and his mates are in favor of such action, but the windows won’t budge.
ST12: Meanwhile @mrsndw has turned up corporate sympathy, but no assistance. My son wants to walk the 30 miles to our hotel. He’s 16 and enjoying this. I ask LF about taxis, he gives me a name, and I call. First, I ask if I can buy company adblue. But they have none.
ST13: They keep their fleet old, pre-adblue legislation years. I tell the taxi owner that I need a 30 mile ride for 6 (while I sleep in the van till the garage opens), or a ride to the nearest adblue. Him: “If I find you adblue, I don’t have to drive your family?” Me: “Correct.”
SagaT14: Turns out he was at a party he didn’t want to miss. Also turns out, he knew Ian, owner of the garage with the locked windows. They show up together, both...happy. Ian unlocks his garage and tells me that adblue is mostly made of pig urine and that people’s won’t work.
The Saga of Tobermory, Pt. 15: I’ve never been happier to buy “peg’s pess” in my life. Even when it sloshed all over me. I poured that strange libation to the EU and waited. Computer chips consulted the laws of the land and determined that my ignition was permitted to ignite.
SoT, Final: The key turned, the Renault rumbled, and there was great rejoicing.
Epilogue: I have now read one statistic that claims 2000 adblue “breakdowns” occur per year, mostly in rented cars. Be wary, ye vacationers, be canny, keep a well hydrated pig near at hand.
