A bad day in France and Kerosene at the Petro pump

In case you had any doubt, it is true that Kerosene does not work in cars. Things have gone very smoothly for us on this trip, and we have had few screw ups.  Considering neither of us speak Spanish, (Pat is doing a great job with French) and English is fairly easy to find,we have gotten around quite fine. The GPS has been very valuable and has worked quite well.

Today, though, was an exception.  

It all started quite well.  We mapped a course through France, which is only a few miles from our hotel, that would take us through some beautiful country, with the destination being a museum which was dedicated to the Freedom trail.  The Freedom trail was the route that many refugees from France took to Spain in WWII. Pat took a great interest in this, and  researched it, so I am sure she will post about it. She did visit it, though I never did make it.  I was spending quality time at a service station. 

Our trip took us through the town of Foix, France and Ax les Thermes, where we found a market in progress.  We wandered through the market, picked up some Bleu cheese, and a baguette. We loved the atmosphere of the town. There is a very nice Spa with a large mineral water pool. We didin't bring our swim suits with us, but it looks like it would be great fun and relaxing.   We then headed to town of St-Girons about 45 minutes away. St. Girons is a more gritty town, less charming, but practical. It seemed to have a large hospital, that draws people there.  The river was running angrily. Lots of run off from the mountains.

After an unremarkable lunch, we found the Office de Turisme, which was closed. So we went in search of the Freedom Museum. 

I decided to fuel up while we had the chance.  That's when the fun began. European gas stations are self serve and I have purchased gas in many countries. They are confusing, however. This one was quite large,  and had several lines.  I chose one that was empty and pulled to the front.  Nothing looked familiar, though it was a typical pump like you might find in the states.  I realized you had to pay inside, but managed to get the pump to start working. It did not look the same as the pumps I used in Spain and they were marked differently.  I made a decision about a pump, which also was different, and I began questioning whether I was doing the right thing.  The nozzle did fit in the tank, though not very well.  No one came running out of the gas station or anything so I kept filling the tank, and it didn't spill so I thought all was OK.  Who knew that the French word Lampant means kerosene? 

I filled the tank walked in and paid. I found out that the man who owns a station is married to a woman from California. He spoke fairly good English and was very friendly. We've got directions from him to the museum and took off down the road. The museum was not very well marked so it was difficult to find. We ended up driving around and back into the town. The car began to miss and not run right. At that point I knew that I had put something into the gas tank that did not belong there. 

I turn down a very narrow road and drove to the end. I didn't realize that this was a sidewalk. So I backed up the entire length of it. 

The car was running even worse. I did make it back to the gas station and explained what was happening to the man who could speak English. We went out to the pump and he explained me that I had filled the car with the oil that you used to heat with. I then took out my translator and realized that Lampitt means kerosene. This was not good.

This was the beginning of a three hour adventure of calling Eurocar in two different countries, getting a wrecker,  and riding 60 miles a wrecker through the countryside of France. When we arrived at euro car they had no idea what was going on.

Several phone calls and one hour later we did receive a car.  By this time we were an hour further away from our hotel than we had been before. we were now looking at a three hour trip over a 10,000 foot mountain. And it was dark. 

This was a rather harrowing trip over the mountain. There were many curves and switchbacks. It was pitch dark. I took my time and let cars pass when they could. We made it over without incident but I was rather tired when it was all done. It was nice to get home to our hotel in Spain. I'm not sure there's any moral to the story. It was a dumb mistake. I have to forgive myself and move on and enjoy the rest of the trip.