Life, as Forrest Gump once said, is like a box of chocolates. That being the case, owning a Mini can feel like somebody’s replaced your favourite strawberry cream with a joke shop laxative.

I’ve heard those mad enough to have kids talk of how the good moments outweigh the bad, and Mini ownership’s a wee bit like that; one minute it presents you with a lorryload of your favourite flavour of Angel Delight, the next you’re eating 9p Lidl beans on 10p reduced bread for the next month in order to pay for an engine overhaul, but it’s always worthwhile.

In my last blog I mentioned the tiny watch battery that was allegedly powering my electrics. Well, it is no more!

A big Bosch beast was duly purchased, and fitted. Fingers crossed, turn the key, and…

…it started, first time. That was easy! But what the hell’s that screeching?

Bonnet popped, turn the engine on again, and still with the screeching. Accompanied this time by a cry of “turn it off!” from my knowledgable and clearly-secretly-enjoying-himself father. Just before I asked why, I spotted the smoke coming from the area of the alternator. Mmm, laxative…

As it turned out though, taking off the belt cover next to the alternator solved both the smoking and the screeching issues, and they stayed away after the cover was reseated. I knew this badboy wouldn’t let me down!

So, with the Angel Delight en-route and the laxatives cancelled, it was time to move the car. Slam it in gear, and…

And…

And?

Here come the laxatives again. Despite the engine turning over beautifully, the power isn’t reaching the wheels. Clutch or gearbox at fault, methinks, and having read up online, I’m getting the WD40 out to try to free up what sounds like a seized arm. It blooming well better be, or laxatives and beans are my life now.

There’s nothing WD40 hasn’t fixed for me so far. Keep up this amazing track record, my Water Dispersing friend…

My amazing little friend