I want to share some photos today of an encounter we had with the Police in Germany.
I’ve previously mentioned the Speedy Gonzalez nature of Dorothy, charging downhill, in Germany, at 83mph.
I’ve also mentioned that she didn’t much like it – throwing a tantrum a few miles down the road.
And by ‘tantrum’ I mean a main bearing end cap. Which promptly ended her “Poland escapade”.
What I haven’t mentioned is the shenanigans we had, while recovering her…
Once we realised she wasn’t going anywhere under her own steam, and once I’d clambered around under her – removing the propshafts so she could be towed, we hooked her up to Ol’ Blue (Dick’s One-ten V8 County Station Wagon) and set off again. This time, considerably slower.
Fast forward a few hours, and mucho tooting of horns by disgruntled German drivers, we cruised past a cop car sat at the side of the autobahn.
Dick (on the radio): “Did you see them?”
Me: “Yep. But I think we got away with it”.
Also me: “Nope, maybe not. They’re following us.”
We got a tug from German plod so we pulled off into the next rest stop area.
Turns out they were OK.
We got a fine (€20 I think, nothing major) and it was all smiles. No biggie.
Thankfully their English was better than our non-existent German.
I mentioned to one of them the coincidence of them being there just when we went past…
…”Zat eez no koincidence. Ve haf had MANY calls about ze crazy English towing on the autobahn.”
Gotta smile. They were cool about it.
So cool in fact that when we told them where we were going they decided to help us out a bit…
…rather than heading off at the next junction (like you’re supposed), they said it’d be far easier for us if we went a few junctions up (I forget how many) and that they’d escort us on the autobahn until we came off.
How cool is that? Our very own Polizie escort.
We meandered the few junctions up then came off onto A-roads.
Funny little side story: just as they were about to peel off and carry on with their night, a boy racer came charging up behind me – totally unaware Ol’ Bill was in front, out of sight, pulled out and went charging past those pesky, slow, Land Rovers like it was going out of fashion.
A quick wave at us and some blue lights and the Police were gone.
Our Police drama was over, our night wasn’t.
At the next town we had to empty the contents of Dorothy, into Ol’ Blue, and then everyone squeeze in like sardines and we were back on the road to Calais.
Dick and I made the journey back to the little German town again, a couple of days later, complete with trailer and rescued Dorothy back to Blighty. But more on that another time.
No lesson here, except maybe that we’ve always had pleasant experiences with foreign Police. And it’s not just because of Old Landys, either… I once got pulled over in Poland for speeding in a Ford Focus but got let off with a warning – much to the jaw-dropping surprise of my Polish fiancee.
Old Landys Rule!
Phil.
PS. There’s plenty more tales like that one, we’ve got from our time spent driving and fixing Old Landys. Be a good mate to your old Landy lovin’ friends by sending them here so they can also subscribe to the Old Landys Rule! newsletter: https://oldlandysrule.com/newsletter