My recent pilgrimage took place a few weeks back, and was squashed between a visit to the in-laws and the circus. The “Trip to Jerusalem” is the name of a very old pub in Nottingham. I think it’s something to do with daubing a cross on your tunic in red paint and traveling East to go and slay non-believers, leaving the country to the baron-robbers like Robin Hood. For me, my escape from the men in green tights was a visit to a British car restoration shop in Dallas called Kip Motor.
I say British car, as that seems like the right term somehow, though I can’t think for the life of me of any Welsh, Scottish or any flavor of Irish car maker. Regardless of the terminology, these are the people who answer the phone and know what on earth I’m talking about when I need help with my 1967 Austin Black Cab.
Apparently you need an appointment on Saturday, which I didn’t realize when I rocked up at 9am precisely. This gave me some time to look around and take a few snaps before the ever-helpful Bob arrived.
Bob gave me a tour of the workshop, and pointed me right on a few things. I got to feel that I would be very welcome to stay and talk for three or four hours after the simple matter of ascertaining who I was, what I did, what my wife thought and what parts of clutch I was clutching in my hands.
I got the core charge for returning the old clutch, pressure plate and housing, and Bob took a look at the hose leading to my slave cylinder and told me that he would replace it if it was his. I took his advice willingly, and after poking around looking at some other cars, I was underway.
What I like about Kip Motor is that the place seems to run on enthusiasm for what they do. Every phone call seems to lead to a technical support run down of the ten things I should check out on my 44 year old car while I’m fixing one particular part.
It’s advice given freely and willingly, it’s not some beleaguered tech support fellow in the Philippines reading from a manual, or some sales person in California trying to up-sell me on some more stuff. It’s friendly, helpful, and local (3 hours of American driving being thought of locally like a 7 minute drive from Quorn to Loughborough) advice.
Alas, I had to run off to join the (rest of my family at) circus, though after seeing all the bits of cars and space and tools in place, I think I’d rather run off to join a vintage car restoration business than to learn to tame lions.
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