8. I had to ask my vital question

This winter, with the extremely cold weather we experienced each time traveling to  drop them at their lodgings, must have prompted Carol to nag me to have my car’s heating system repaired. This proved to be a boon from which I still derive much pleasure today.

I booked my Mercedes in at the dealership for the heating system to be repaired and the leaking radiator to be replaced. I was pleased when they offered me a loan car, indeed overjoyed. I hadn’t driven a new car for many, many years, not since living in Cape Town at least 14 years before. How the cars had developed since that time. I’d never driven a new Mercedes, except those of my parent’s in the 1960s and 70s. I was so excited.

I asked Carol and Vũ which days would suit them best for me to book my car in so that we could enjoy an outing together in the courtesy car. Any day would have been good for me.

We all chose a Wednesday. I would have the car for two days, Wednesday and Thursday. I was free to return it late on Thursday afternoon. I suggested the three of us visit the Chithurst Buddhist Monastery outside Petersfield to enjoy nature in the peace and quiet of its tranquil surroundings.

Usually my car took £50 worth of fuel to do the trip, however, the 220B diesel Mercedes they gave me was so economical that I was able to achieve a staggering 80mpg. I only used £8 of diesel for the whole journey. My secret lay in setting the cruise control not to exceed 50mph. The economy gauge indicated I was doing 80+ mpg most of the way.

Unfortunately, my friend, Paul, at the Mercedes dealership, had a day off so he hadn’t been able to arrange to give me a car with a built-in SatNav. I took my own. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a cable to charge my phone from the loan car’s cigarette lighter as my cable had been plumbed into my car. Instead, I had decided to use my SatNav’s internal battery.

Several years had passed since I had last been to the Monastery but I still remembered the last few hundred metres leading up to the entrance with its large, glossy, wooden signpost. The SatNav had taken us on a shorter direct route along country farm roads that were completely new to me. If the battery had given up before we approached the Monastery we would have been lost. It did, in fact, stop working, but only when we were almost in sight of the Monastery signboard. I remembered the rest of the way. We all breathed sighs of relief on seeing the signboard.

I needed mains power to recharge the battery. On arrival we walked up to the kitchen where I read a notice, pasted to the door, announcing we had arrived on a day of silent meditation! This meant we were unable to talk to any of the monks or nuns. Nevertheless, I approached one of the men who worked in the kitchen. He appeared to be a monk with a shaven head like the others and with his habit covered by a large white food-stained apron. We gave him our food offerings. He asked me,

“Is this for today, or do you want to leave it for another day?” He peered into the bag,

”Ah, we love bananas!”

“Good news,” I thought, he’s speaking to me!

“For later, if you like,” I answered his first question.

“Do you have electric power here at the Monastery?” I asked.

“Yes, we do,” he confirmed. Although there was a din coming from pots and pans, dishes and plates, where they were working in the kitchen, ours were the only voices that could be heard. I had to ask my vital question,

“Please, may I use a plug to charge my SatNav?”