A trip to Sweden

I wanted to visit Kathrin, a very good friend of mine, who not only started my interest in 2CVs but whose first car has been a yellow-and-black Charleston. In April 2001 she married a Swede and moved to him - 2200 km (1400 miles) far away, close to the Arctic Circle.
So we had not seen each other for half a year, and as the restauration process of my 2CV was just finished, the surprise visit that was already planned for a longer time could finally take place. A small talk with her husband, secretly of course, in order to keep a week-end free and we agreed on the first one in october, not long before the first snow would be falling.
I intended to arrive on friday evening, just before Kathrin returns from work, then spend the week-end there and leave again on monday morning (which actually was a tuesday ;-)

With the date in mind I started out on thursday at half past midnight, a couple of kilometers west of Hanover, Germany. I wanted to cover at least the 1300 km (800 miles) to Stockholm, Sweden, on the first day, everything else was a bonus. But failure was close at hand. I was able to avoid the rush-hours in and around the big cities but nevertheless there was a traffic jam in Kopenhagen, Denmark, because of an accident. That alone would not have been bad, but the accelerator pedal got stuck from time to time so that the car wouldn't slow down when I lifted my foot. I don't know how many times I had to stall the engine in order to avoid rear-ending someone in the jam. Then there's changing gears. It's frightening when while shifting up you're still at full throttle and the engine starts reaching even higher and dangerous revs. Apart from that the driver's side window opened itself from time to time with a huge noise because of the suction from crosswinds from the right and refused to be closed again for some time, so rain was pouring happily into the cabin.

At three in the morning I had forgotten my tank filler cap at a petrol pump also and I was fearing that the piece of cloth that I stuffed into the tank opening would be sucked inside or would just slide into it because it got wet from the rain. Or maybe both. Slowly I started panicking, wondering if the distance could really be covered in a car that still was completely taken apart the week before. I wasn't in the best of moods and hilarious storms and crosswinds didn't improve the situation either. But something kept me going, I did not want to give up. And as it was becoming day again, not only tiredness vanished but also did the problems of my 2CV. Only the tank filler cap did not reappear.

But all was forgotten when I saw the landscape. I was in Sweden for the first time. Of course, beautiful photos have been shown to be, but who would have thought that it looks like that everywhere, even along the highways? Everything looked so very prepared - carefully placed stones were lining up the coastlines and lakesides and the foliage, reflected in the blue water made it perfect. It all looked like a perfect movie set. But it wasn't. This was nature.
Unfortunately it was mostly raining and it wasn't going to stop for still some time. The photo camera was ready but to take pictures of rainy landscapes doesn't make much sense. Although impressive in real life it always looks somewhat boring and sad on a picture. Therefore I soaked it all up with my eyes and really cannot await my next visit in summer.

So I was eating miles and was driving around 110 and 120 kph (68-75 mph) if the hills allowed it. That was neither nice for me (too loud) or for the car (too fast), but there was a time to be met and, of course, I didn't know what was still to come.

In Jönköping it finally stopped raining, the clouds became fewer and from time to time the sun was shining. I reached Stockholm quickly, it was not yet dark and I wasn't tired. I had just made the first break after 14 hours of driving. That may sound long at first glance but as you have to visit the gas station quite often in a 2CV you are forced to make at least small breaks anyway. Then there was the relaxed driving situation in Sweden. The roads are very wide, the drivers friendly and careful. I can understand now why some Swedes do not like driving in Germany, where the behavior is much more rude.

The next city I was planning to reach was now Sundsvall, about 400 km (250 miles) north of Stockholm. There I wanted to spend the night so that after 1700 km (1050 miles) on the first day, there were just 450 (280 mls) left until the small town a little beyond Kåge. I arrived in Sundsvall at nine o'clock in the evening, as planned. So although I slept sufficiently long there would no haste in meeting the 4 o'clock deadline the next day. And the 2CV was still doing fine.

Refreshed and relaxed I started out at ten in the morning the next day. All aches and bad moods of the day before were gone and I was keen on continuing my journey, having already covered 80% of the distance so far. But there seemed to be a problem. I noticed it the night before but thought it was me being tired who was seeing things that were not there. Shortly before lifting my foot completely off the accelerator pedal, the engine sounded strange. Something was out of sync and I was smelling exhaust fumes. Did cylinders misfiring sound like that? At full throttle and while rolling the 2CV felt okay, so I continued despite being a little worried. The journey was now over soon and arriving was most important because I did not want to surprise Kathrin with my arrival alone, but with the 2CV as well. Whatever would happen on the way home was not really important, the insurance would have covered everything. But arriving up there was what counted.

In Skellefteå, about 20 kilometers (12 miles) before the finish line, there suddenly was a huge bang and the engine became incredibly loud. At first I thought about the exhaust but when I was struggling to the side of the road I noticed that there was almost no power from the engine. It seemed very serious but after having stopped I opened the hood and saw that only a spark plug flew out. So that's where the irregularities and the smell originated from. And because the plug has worked its way out for over 400 kilometers there were good chances that it did not rip the threads out of the cylinder head and that the damage could be repaired. But it was friday afternoon at a quarter past three. I had to hurry to find a shop, because I wasn't carrying any tools with me (I should change that in the future).
Indeed there was no longer a mechanic present at the shop to which I asked me through. But another worker there was borrowing me the tools and as he answered my question about the things I shall leave with them so that I returned, by saying: "Here in north Sweden we normally trust people", I was quite happy.

Relieved I was going back the kilometer to my 2CV, screwed the spark plug back into the cooled engine and started. It ran! With a smile I drove to the shop, where the employee was already on his way out because he heard my 2CV. After having looked at it from all angles he asked me about my destination. I answered with "a little beyond Kåge", whereas he grinned and asked again to be sure. He then said that he had a good friend in Kåge who was collecting Citroëns and who would certainly very much like to have a look at my car. Quickly he wrote down name, address, the description of the way and made a drawing. With that piece of paper in my hand I thanked him again and started the last part of my journey with a big smile which turned into an even bigger grin very soon.

Kathrin told me once about rumors about a Citroën collector that lived somwhere near her. She wanted to buy a Citroën again, a DS if possible. Well, now I had that address and it turned out to be the address.

It was four o'clock and I had arrived exactly when I wanted to. After 45 minutes then, Kathrin came home from work. I think I will never forget her face in that moment. Rarely have I seen someone so surprised and happy. And when she finally was driving the 2CV her perfect week-end was complete. The next three days were therefore worth all struggles and even the exhausting trip home became completely irrelevant.

On monday afternoon we both went to the Citroën collector. He and his wife had 30 (thirty!) cars, but a Charleston that was yellow-and-black even they had not yet seen. In the end he was borrowing me a tank filler cap. It was the one of his son's 2CV who wasn't present at the moment, "but that is not a problem" he said, if I only send it back. I must say, Sweden was impressing me quite a bit.

On tuesday morning it was time to leave for home again. At half past seven I was beginning the journey of almost 2200 kilometers (1400 miles) back to Germany - but this time not with top speed but with around 90 kph (55 mph). I took the time that I had now plenty of and even the weather turned out a little better. It was raining only half the time and for a couple of minutes the sun was really shining so that I used the opportunity and took some photos, some of which can be seen here and in the photo section. I also made more breaks in between than on the way up and suddenly it seemed possible to do the entire trip without having to sleep. But 50 km (30 miles) north of Flensburg, Germany, the night got too long and after over 22 hours I slept an hour and a half in order to be able to drive the remaining four and a half hours without problems. One surely remarkable thing about the trip home was the Øresund bridge, which isn't very pretty, and driving over it isn't very interesting from a visual standpoint because you have no comparison and cannot judge the immense size and height - you only see water. Impressive, however, was the wind. Sometimes, at full throttle in third gear, I could only do 60 kph (35 mph) and the intense crosswinds were also heavily fooling around with the 2CV weighing only 600 kg.

So my first real experience in a 2CV was a quite extreme and overwhelming one. Surprisingly the 4300 kilometers (2700 miles) could be covered very easily with the 2CV. The seats were really as comfortable as everyone says and the low engine power not a disadvantage if you've got time. Something special are other people's reactions. At gas stations they say: "I've been driving a 2CV also". People (even teenagers) are waving towards you, small children are pointing to the car. I was even tempted to greet motorcyclists. Simply great!

Normally after such a gigantic trip you are exhausted with no desire to do it again. But in a 2CV it is not only not too bad, you really think about repeating it. It is an experience. And many of those doing prophecies of failure are really regarding the 2CV as a real car now. Some even are impressed.