Not just "a hybrid" then but a plug in hybrid. I have its V60 D6 predecessor, a fantastic car. Just make sure you charge it every night to get most out of it.No Classic Saabs here, we have picked up a demonstrator with 900 miles on the clock, Volvo S90 T8 Recharge R Design, twin engine, with Polestar upgrade and loads of extras. Note, the user manual is 621 pages.
Thingy, with that acceleration and performance you will need to wear a fast jet pilots pressure suit so you don’t pass out🤪🤪With a 0-60 in 4.8 secs, pushing just over 400bhp, turbo charged AND supercharger plus Polestar, I will leave the traffic light grand prix for those with a similar nameIts no fun picking on babies.
No doubt I will spend most of my time stuck behind caravans
Would love to try my Polestar 2 against a V60 T8 polestar engineered under suitable controlled conditions. They are very similar power and performance on paper. Though I am toying with the Polestar engineered sw upgrade to mine (like getting the ECU mapping done) for an extra 68hp and 20Nm. Not sure I really need it though! 😁🤣With a 0-60 in 4.8 secs, pushing just over 400bhp, turbo charged AND supercharger plus Polestar, I will leave the traffic light grand prix for those with a similar name
No doubt I will spend most of my time stuck behind caravans
Thinghy, I think you have summed it up fairly well, and I totally understand your thoughts. We are also thinking about leaving the Caravanning scene, keep thinking , lets leave it for this next year. But with Mrs H's COPD, the choice of sites and getting around restricts us.I liken it to this, I have sold a tin box, built by people that couldnt care less, have even less ability, and no concern for the end user. Backed up by customer services that prefer to treat you as a minor annoyance. I pay a fortune to insure it, a fortune in fuel to tow it, and a fortune to park on a campsite or field for the same price as a week in a cottage somewhere (out of high season). Whilst there Im saddled these days with the Marbella Brigade, who, simply because they cant scoot off to their favourite high rise all inclusive block, lounging in the sun whilst getting hammered on Cerveza, have all decided to infect us with their self entitled manners and invade the camping grounds. Most of which cannot drive or tow adequately, break every rule under the sun and generally make pratts of themselves whilst pretending to be caravanners.
The Grocklebox, built by minkies is guarranteed to fail, and then force you to spend months waiting for a basic part, price inflated as Damian says, to embarrasing levels.
The said Grocklebox stands on our drive for months on end, a great white whale of thing, sucking the will to live from my battered body.
Arriving on a windswept, freezing cold campsite (usually July or August) I then wrestle the divorce in a bag into some semblence of a dwelling, and spend the next fortnight praying it wont rain when i take it down, which of course it invariably does. I feel the need to cook outdoors, but worry if i have enough gas and can i replace it. My beloved Shogun, in truth drove with all the panache of a Snatch LR, or on a bad day and bumpy road, the Ferret AFV (anyone remember that old turkey), whilst costing me a second mortgage to fill the tank.
Seven weeks of my last seven weeks were spent in torrential rain, high winds and a flood warning on the river Ure behind me, four of those weeks I had flu, real proper I wanna die flu.
I now have my new wheels to look forward to and Im off to sunny idiot free Marbella. Anyone wanna come?
Joking aside, I actually and honestly feel unburdened. For months I wanted to broach this with madam, but didnt dare, not knowing that secretly she was caravanning for me. Having finally had the conversation, things moved pretty fast and the deed was done.
I have had many years caravanning, and all but the last 12 months were highly enjoyable, I wouldnt knock the passtime itself. We are both still young in attitude, fairly healthy apart from the old knees, and adventurous enough to try new holidays in new destinations, and with that in mind, lockdown permitting, I am feeling a buzz that I havent felt for sometime.
I also applied for a new job as physio to the Brazlian Ladies Beach Volleyball Team, but they turned me down for that one. Perhaps Ill try Tesco next.
I liken it to this, I have sold a tin box, built by people that couldnt care less, have even less ability, and no concern for the end user. Backed up by customer services that prefer to treat you as a minor annoyance. I pay a fortune to insure it, a fortune in fuel to tow it, and a fortune to park on a campsite or field for the same price as a week in a cottage somewhere (out of high season). Whilst there Im saddled these days with the Marbella Brigade, who, simply because they cant scoot off to their favourite high rise all inclusive block, lounging in the sun whilst getting hammered on Cerveza, have all decided to infect us with their self entitled manners and invade the camping grounds. Most of which cannot drive or tow adequately, break every rule under the sun and generally make pratts of themselves whilst pretending to be caravanners.
The Grocklebox, built by minkies is guarranteed to fail, and then force you to spend months waiting for a basic part, price inflated as Damian says, to embarrasing levels.
The said Grocklebox stands on our drive for months on end, a great white whale of thing, sucking the will to live from my battered body.
Arriving on a windswept, freezing cold campsite (usually July or August) I then wrestle the divorce in a bag into some semblence of a dwelling, and spend the next fortnight praying it wont rain when i take it down, which of course it invariably does. I feel the need to cook outdoors, but worry if i have enough gas and can i replace it. My beloved Shogun, in truth drove with all the panache of a Snatch LR, or on a bad day and bumpy road, the Ferret AFV (anyone remember that old turkey), whilst costing me a second mortgage to fill the tank.
Seven weeks of my last seven weeks were spent in torrential rain, high winds and a flood warning on the river Ure behind me, four of those weeks I had flu, real proper I wanna die flu.
I now have my new wheels to look forward to and Im off to sunny idiot free Marbella. Anyone wanna come?
Joking aside, I actually and honestly feel unburdened. For months I wanted to broach this with madam, but didnt dare, not knowing that secretly she was caravanning for me. Having finally had the conversation, things moved pretty fast and the deed was done.
I have had many years caravanning, and all but the last 12 months were highly enjoyable, I wouldnt knock the passtime itself. We are both still young in attitude, fairly healthy apart from the old knees, and adventurous enough to try new holidays in new destinations, and with that in mind, lockdown permitting, I am feeling a buzz that I havent felt for sometime.
I also applied for a new job as physio to the Brazlian Ladies Beach Volleyball Team, but they turned me down for that one. Perhaps Ill try Tesco next.
I liken it to this, I have sold a tin box, built by people that couldnt care less, have even less ability, and no concern for the end user. Backed up by customer services that prefer to treat you as a minor annoyance. I pay a fortune to insure it, a fortune in fuel to tow it, and a fortune to park on a campsite or field for the same price as a week in a cottage somewhere (out of high season). Whilst there Im saddled these days with the Marbella Brigade, who, simply because they cant scoot off to their favourite high rise all inclusive block, lounging in the sun whilst getting hammered on Cerveza, have all decided to infect us with their self entitled manners and invade the camping grounds. Most of which cannot drive or tow adequately, break every rule under the sun and generally make pratts of themselves whilst pretending to be caravanners.
The Grocklebox, built by minkies is guarranteed to fail, and then force you to spend months waiting for a basic part, price inflated as Damian says, to embarrasing levels.
The said Grocklebox stands on our drive for months on end, a great white whale of thing, sucking the will to live from my battered body.
Arriving on a windswept, freezing cold campsite (usually July or August) I then wrestle the divorce in a bag into some semblence of a dwelling, and spend the next fortnight praying it wont rain when i take it down, which of course it invariably does. I feel the need to cook outdoors, but worry if i have enough gas and can i replace it. My beloved Shogun, in truth drove with all the panache of a Snatch LR, or on a bad day and bumpy road, the Ferret AFV (anyone remember that old turkey), whilst costing me a second mortgage to fill the tank.
Seven weeks of my last seven weeks were spent in torrential rain, high winds and a flood warning on the river Ure behind me, four of those weeks I had flu, real proper I wanna die flu.
I now have my new wheels to look forward to and Im off to sunny idiot free Marbella. Anyone wanna come?
Joking aside, I actually and honestly feel unburdened. For months I wanted to broach this with madam, but didnt dare, not knowing that secretly she was caravanning for me. Having finally had the conversation, things moved pretty fast and the deed was done.
I have had many years caravanning, and all but the last 12 months were highly enjoyable, I wouldnt knock the passtime itself. We are both still young in attitude, fairly healthy apart from the old knees, and adventurous enough to try new holidays in new destinations, and with that in mind, lockdown permitting, I am feeling a buzz that I havent felt for sometime.
I also applied for a new job as physio to the Brazlian Ladies Beach Volleyball Team, but they turned me down for that one. Perhaps Ill try Tesco next.
It's important to use all the comparison sites, and the direct-only insurers, because no individual site is the best for all cases.
Depends whether you want/need the expensive extras - I don't want foreign cover (we don't go abroad), business cover (I'm retired), breakdown cover (I use Mayday) or courtesy car (I've got two cars).
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