Flat Battery

We woke up this morning, excited to move on to our next destination.

Today, we were off to Waitomo, a two-hour drive away. We had a glowworm boat tour booked for 2:00pm. All buckled up, only one push of the ignition button separated us from the open road.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Battery dead.

Excellent.

We checked the lights, doors, and anything else that might have been quietly siphoning our precious juice overnight. Nothing. No obvious culprit. Just one very dead campervan and three increasingly concerned tourists.

Erin called roadside assistance, who quickly let us know that if “user error” was found, we’d be charged the call-out fee.

Comforting.

I’m still not sure how you prove your innocence in that situation. Were we about to be cross-examined in the campground? Would the battery be called to testify?

Eventually, roadside assistance arrived and managed to jump-start the van, and for a brief moment, hope returned.

Then the engine light stayed on.

He plugged in his iPad gadget, and the future immediately looked bleak. The screen lit up like a Christmas tree decorated by the Grinch, mostly red. Even as a non-mechanic, I’m fairly sure that’s not the colour you want in a vehicle diagnosis.

His advice was simple… do not drive it anywhere. A replacement vehicle would be required.

He said he’d contact Apollo, our rental company, explain the situation, and organise a replacement.

Great, we thought. That shouldn’t be too hard. When we picked up the van, there were easily 300 others sitting empty in the car park.

And so, the waiting game began.

Enter Jenny.

Jenny, a lovely lady from Apollo, informed us the on-road team was busy, but she’d keep trying. In the meantime, she suggested we call them ourselves to “speed up the process.”

So we did.

On a completely different number.

To our surprise, it was Jenny again, now acting as though we hadn’t just spoken two minutes earlier.

Jenny then passed us on to another team.

Now it was Jim's turn to join our adventure.

Jim’s opening argument was that the van was probably fine to drive, despite the dashboard screaming otherwise and the roadside technician’s clear advice not to move it.

He then asked if we could find a freeway and perform a burnout, and not the fun kind.

He wanted us to hold 2,500 revs at 90 to 100 kilometres an hour for forty minutes, which, as holiday activities go, wasn’t high on our list.

Sure, Jim. I’ll just take the broken rental campervan onto the motorway and run my own roadside diagnostics while Erin times me from the passenger seat.

I explained that we were on holiday, not mechanics, and asked them to please just send the replacement.

Jim, sounding less than thrilled, told us to leave it with him.

Forty minutes passed.

Nothing.

By now, we were still sitting in the campground, well past checkout time and slowly becoming part of the furniture. We’d already moved our glowworm tour and, after hours of waiting, eventually cracked.

Frustrated, we decided to give Jim’s burnout technique a try.

Off we went towards Waitomo, keeping the gearbox in Jim’s burnout zone for over an hour.

For peace of mind, we stopped at Woolworths in a small town to stock up on two-minute noodles, just in case we ended up stranded on the side of the road.

While Erin was inside, I followed Jim’s final instruction. Turn the van off, wait a minute, then turn it back on. Supposedly, this would clear the engine light.

To my complete lack of surprise, it did not.

Then Jenny called back.

Nearly four hours after the whole ordeal began, she informed us that because we only had two nights left, there wasn’t much they could do. A replacement would take a day to approve and another day to deliver, so if we had any more issues, we should simply call them again, and they’d send someone out.

Thanks, Jenny.

We carried on, now hungry for some “real” food. The snacks had officially lost their charm, so we pulled into a little family-owned roadside cafe called Rhubarbs.

There, we sat next to what seemed to be the towns resident medium. Her phone kept ringing the entire time we were there.

“Yep, I’ll just send you my bank details. Send me a screenshot of your transaction. I only need to see your face for it to work, so I’ll video call you.”

Good to know the spiritual realm has embraced online banking.

We carried on to Waitomo, and thankfully, the drive in was beautiful, with rolling farmland, green hills, and scenery that almost made you forget you were driving a campervan held together by optimism.

We checked in at our next TOP 10 Holiday Park of the trip. This one was sadly lacking a bar and pizzeria, but it made up for it with serenity and a small petting farm.

We spent what was left of the day feeding the animals and wandering around town, which took about 12 minutes because Waitomo has roughly 5 shops.

In the evening, Erin and I headed out to the local restaurant. Erin had a tasty ragu, and I had a "New Zealand" chicken curry. It was delicious, and exactly the sort of feast we needed after a day spent arguing with a van, and Apollo’s customer service roulette wheel.

Despite the unexpected chaos, we’d finally made it to Waitomo.

Hopefully the van starts tomorrow.