Breaking down in Taiwan (0)

Posted 12 May, 2009 in Travel

It’d been a long day’s work and it was now, finally, time to go so I got on my scooter and headed home – at least that was the plan. We made it 5 metres and she cut out. I looked down at the fuel gauge and saw that she was almost running on empty. “That explains it” I said to myself thinking that she’d probably sucked some crap from the bottom of the fuel tank into her carburettor. I started her back up and took her to the nearest petrol station (about 100 metres) and filled her up. “Now we’re cooking”, I thought, and made a second attempt at heading home.

So I’m riding home, everything is going swimmingly. I’ve got my ipod on (although I like to call it my sipod) listening to some banging tunes, and the wind is blowing a really nice refreshing breeze. It’s basically all spot on until my scooter reaches ground zero* where it then gives out a massively loud “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” and stops dead.

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*I live in a place called Yuanlin and work in a different place called Beidou, they’re about a 20 to 30 minute scooter ride apart. A place equidistant between both of these is ground zero.

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I coast on my scooter to the side of the road, try to re-start the engine but there’s no joy so I get off and put her onto her stand. “Hmm…”, I rub my chin and ponder, “It sounds like she’s turning over when I press the ignition but she’s not firing” (I don’t know a load about auto mechanics but I’ve tinkered with bits in the past). Luckily I keep a screw driver in my scooter (A Taiwanese man gave it me once when he saw me trying to fix my brakes with a swiss army knife) so I get it out and undress my scooter a bit. To confirm my suspicions I find a lead (I think they call it a high tension lead), that is supposed to go to my scooter’s spark plug, (well I presume it was the HT lead and that its supposed to go to my spark plug but I’m not 100% positive). All I need to do now is put it back on my spark plug.

Where is my spark plug?

I spend a few minutes poking around looking for the spark plug but can’t find it. I begin to doubt myself and think perhaps this wire has always dangled about, and even if it was the spark plug at fault why on earth did it moo? And perhaps the spark plug is on the other side of the engine behind all that plastic chassis and I’m just pissing in the dark (it was dark, I wasn’t pissing but I did need to go).

They don’t have the AA or the RAC here but they do have Uncle scooter. I decided to give in and pushed my scooter to the nearest 7 - eleven, so I could take a piss, and then give Uncle a ring. He said to wait where I am and he’ll come and help me so I sat down and had a coffee and a hot dog.

About 15 minutes later, sure enough, Uncle arrives on his scooter. I tell him what happened and he takes a look.
“Simon”, he says, “Where is your spark plug?”
“I couldn’t find where it’s supposed to be either”, I say back.
“I know where it’s supposed to be, but it’s not there” Says Uncle whilst pointing to an empty hole.
“Bugger” I say.

The spark plug must have been loose and the pressure in the engine must have launched it onto the road somewhere. I suppose that explains why my scooter moooed at least – all the air in the engine being forced out of the hole where the spark plug used to live.  Explanations, however, won’t get me home so I walked back up the road to ground zero in search of my spark plug.

Maybe it was an event inexplicable by the laws of nature or maybe it was a car headlight, but my spark plug sat there in the middle of the dark and dirty road, twinkling at me. I waited for a gap in traffic and grabbed it. With the spark plug in one hand, held high above my head like some kind of trophy, and a big grin on my face I quickly headed back to Uncle.

We put the spark plug right back in it’s hole and fired the baby up. She starts first time. I restrain myself; don’t want to get too excited just yet as we’ve only managed to screw the plug in a little bit using our fingers.

She cuts out.

We try putting the plug in again, this time with a little more success - and a little more pain; the scooters started to heat up a bit since we got her ticking over. It wasn’t a perfect fix but fingers crossed it’ll get me and the scooter back to Uncle’s garage.

I set off with Uncle closely following behind. Carefully I weave in-between the rickety roads exposed man hole covers, pot holes and other hazards resulting from earthquakes (and shoddy workmanship) of years passed. We make good time and it looks like it’s going to be a success when:

“Mooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo”.

She does it again. The spark plug flies out of my scooter and lands in the middle of the road. I pull over to the side and get off, Uncle does the same. A gigantic truck drives straight over the spark plug and flips it into the air where it appears to twirl elegantly like a ballerina in mid air before landing in the path of two more oversized family cars. It was as if it knew it’s fate already and wanted to go out with one last dance. As soon as there is a break in the traffic I quickly run out and, too hot to pick up, I flick the spark plug to the side of the road.

Uncle grabs my arm and says, “leave it Simon, I’ll push you from here”.
“Push me?” “Don’t be silly!” “We’re a good 2 kms away from you garage!” I say.
“You have to trust me” he replies.

I hesitate but agree. Something about his voice tells me he’s right despite how absurd I think he’s being so I got on my scooter like he tells me and turn on my lights. Uncle gets on his scooter, sticks his right leg in front of him and drives straight for me. The next thing I know I’m moving and at a good pace too. He pushes me until I’m up to about 40km/hr and then he drops back as I weave, freewheeling, through some slow moving traffic, just as I’m running out of momentum there he is again with his foot to get me moving.

Needless to say we were back in no time. Uncle got me a new spark plug from his store, we fitted it - using actual tools - and the job was a good’n. What’s more is he refused to accept any money for his time and efforts and would only take money off me to the sum of 200TWD (the cost of the spark plug). Uncle scooter is a living legend and without doubt the nicest man in Taiwan. Fact. Here’s a picture of him:

 

 Thanks Uncle Scooter!

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