However, like most of us, I have occasion to use them. I too, have to pee every now and then, and pay outrageous prices for fuel.  I TRY to just stop at the ones that have toilets where the petrol is sold, but can't always manage that.  Now we have the new shiny MPV (see other story), it takes some filling up and the grandkids are always hungry/thirsty/need a pee/feel sick and/or some or all of the above.  Recent trip to Wales was a case in point and I was forced to stop at nearly every services between Scunthorpe and Newport - never again. It went something like this...

"What's that noise Grandad" said my 4 year old granddaughter Abigail. Looked in the mirror, massive power loss, lots of black smoke.  Bugger, best pull off at the services.  No sense in opening the bonnet really, these modern diesels are all Greek to me and covered in so much plastic you've a job to actually find the engine. Anyway while I looked  at the smoking Espace, the  tribe went off in search of pop, crisps and other stuff that makes small people vomit all over your clean car interior.

Called a mate. "It'll be your EGR valve, buggers those Renaults, why did you buy one of those?", came the reply. (This was as I recall the same 'mate' who went with me to look at the car in the beginning).    "What's an EGR valve?", I asked.   "No point in trying to explain, but its ECU has gone into get you home mode - won't do above 40.  Where are you going?" "Newport in Wales", I said. "Where are you now?" came the reply. "Scunthorpe in Lincolnshire", I said. (Muffled laughter followed by... )  " Stop at every services and try turning it on and off, sometimes they fix themselves. Got to go now, rather you than me",  then click and the line went dead.

"Car all right now dad?", asks my daughter Kate. "No".  (I would have turned back at this point if I had   a) not been a plucky and determined  Brit and   b) have the Best Man for the wedding we were going to in the back of the car).  

OK lets get going. Clouds of chuffing smoke. 11 service areas between junction 2 on the M180 and Newport and now I have to stop at every one trying to fix this miracle of modern automotive greatness by turning the key on and off.  Did it work?   Not exactly, but I digress.

My point began, I'd rather have a bowl of co-co pops as I'm sure you recall.  Third service area in and I needed refreshment. Hot work cleaning up kiddie sick, grappling with the electronics of a modern buggered vehicle etc etc. Went in search of a simple cup of coffee. Found a starbucks or something in the main hall (I never did find any more 'halls' at Strensham Services, wondered if they were out the back somewhere). "can I have a cup of coffee please?", I asked the spotty faced youth at the counter. "Espresso, late, de-caf? Large, small, super-size?" Came the retort. "Had a bad day, just want a coffee". "yes but what sort sir", said the now slightly angry youth. "White, hot and in a cup PLEASE".  "Yes but do you want espresso, late, de-caf (and several other types I forget)".  By now I had had enough. The man behind me said to the youth, "Just give him a double espresso and some cream on top".  Now somewhat more satisfied youth brings me a small cup of hot coffee looking liquid and asks for £5. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I took a sip, thinking that things could not possibly get any worse.  It tasted like camel piss!

Stayed patient. Long way still to go. Three more hours of 40 mph, people with caravans,(caravans I ask you!) overtaking me. Clouds of smoke, moaning kids, moaning adults. 'Are we there yet?'  was turned into a song by my eldest daughter who was trying to keep my grandkids entertained - she was actually lucky to still be alive at this point.

Last services on M50. Tried the old keep turning it on and off trick and hey presto, it works fine. Warning lights all went out and I could actually rev the thing up with no black smoke.   "Leave it running, I'm off to buy a butty" I yelled as I ran, ecstatic at my new found mechanical prowess, into the services.  £3.99 later I had in my hand this sort of hard plastic see through triangular box with what looked more like a museum exhibit than a 'Dairy Maid Fresh Sandwich' in it. Still, idiots can't be choosers as I always say and at least the car was running normally again. Yipee!

As I walked back to get in my MPV, I saw an old couple, sat in deckchairs in the car park, aside an old Ford Fiesta (one of those with good old fashioned plugs, points and a distributor cap under the bonnet) and they were each eating a bowl of cereal. "Waste of money those inedible sarnies", said the old man "I'd rather have a bowl of Co-co pops any day" I bet he even had a full toolkit and a workshop manual in the boot!  Now where did I put that spare EGR Valve?