XS29L9B

BTDT, and survived. My wife loves it when I keep her on her toes. Never knows what to expect when we go places. Is it for family, for fun, or for cars? Maybe all

Anyways, congrats on the score. Love the interior, especially.

Wisconsin Joe

Thread title says "bought".

Past tense.

Now he's just stringing us along, building the suspense.

At the station, waiting for "Boris", who isn't there...

Will he show?
Will the car be ok?
Is it all just a scam and Boris took off with the money?

Tune in tomorrow...

Same 928 time...
Same 928 channel.

j.kenzie@sbcglobal.net

He does spin a pretty good yarn.
Dave

linderpat

Yup, so far it's a good one. In fact, here's the spin - it isn't actually Boris selling the car, but in the best French tradition, that's a nom de plume for Wayne Lambright. And if you have not seen this, or don't know of Wayne, here is one epic thread of, ironically, a shark that went to ... wait for it ...................................................................FRANC E!

Linky: https://rennlist.com/forums/928-foru...to-france.html

Livio928

Bummer. Hope you weren't scammed. I wonder if you could have had your bank transfer to another local bank to be released to you only after your confirm that the car was legit. Not in the banking business so I don't know what the possibilities are. Another would be to make a bank draft but even those are able to be fake from the sellers point of view. There must be an easier way to transfer funds...

bureau13

I think Johnny could be a professional writer if he wanted to. I know I'm tuning in for the next installment...

MrAngry

Relatively new poster to Rennlist... and patiently waiting for the rest of this story.

928 GT R

Actually, Borris was there, but he saw Johnny the wild man with unkept hair and bright white sunglasses and thought that it was too dangerous to make the transaction in broad daylight without - er, um... protection...

Borris is now hiding behind a large statue of a horse, awaiting the Gendarme with his nightstick just in case this Johnny is an imposteur!

The 928 world hung in the balance. It still does...

Richard S

because he was with your wife?

Dude, she just happens to be supportive of letting you buy a car sight unseen? your funds so easily clear the bank? you go away on a long-*** train ride? sounds like a set-up; check your luggage, or you might end up with the lead role in Midnight Express 2....
.
.
.
or maybe Boris is cool as **** and is getting the car washed before you arrive

Rich

jcorenman

When did cash stop working?
Great story, can't wait for the next chapter...

medipedicman

That's the funniest thing I have read in a long time.
Thanks Ed

Wisconsin Joe

The Authorities tend to get a little bit suspicious of people travelling with large amounts of cash. I know that the EU has fewer border checks/restrictions than typical for international borders, but there is some level of customs inspection.

More than a few folks (in the US) have had the cops steal large quantities of cash under the pretext that it was "drug money". Even when there's strong evidence of legitimate reasons for it, it's a huge pain to get it back.

There's also the loss potential, not to mention 'legitimate' thieves.

Johnny G Pipe

^^ LOL

Johnny G Pipe

Well. Boris not only was not there, but in the subsequent 15 minutes he was also not picking up his phone and not returning messages. The feeling I had, right in that moment, will stay with me for a long time.

I should add that I had completed some vague due diligence, I had images of his passport photo page and registration documents tying in with this info., I had checked the French carfax (Le Carfax) arrangement - it all was fine. But, at that moment I did truly believe that I had been HAD.

What to do? Do I go to the Gendarmes? (whom probably would not care, be still at lunch or sleeping - it was 3pm after all), or do I draw a line and bail, back on the hot and sweaty 6 hour train ride to head back to the ranch, with my tail between my legs and some carefully constructed apologies?

I decided to see if I could get him to pick up from a different number, by asking the Station ticket guy to call Boris's number from his own mobile - which I think he only agreed to after seeing the desperate look of terror in my eyes.​ And presently; sacre bleu, a conversation! In French! Whats that? Aix has two stations, despite being a relatively small provincial town? One for SNCF and one for TGV? Mais oui, its true, Boris was on his way to the right station, and I was saved.

And so, I was soon in Boris's brother's terrible Opel Corsa with a bad damper, clutching my bag on my knee, and making conversation using my rapidly improving French. He was ex-military. He was semi retired. His wife worked, as did his 20 year old daughter. he had a large tattoo of the all seeing eye on the back of his head. It was all good. We went to two auto parts places, on my request, to pick up oil - I wanted to at least drop the oil and put something fresh in before the journey. The first place only had fully synthetic, aka le weasel ****, but we scored some ‘classic car’ 20W50 at the next place. It was bloody hot down there after all. And then, on to chez Boris, to meet the wife, Franki the pit bull terrier, and daughter Cecile. Oh, and an old car.

So by this stage I was clear with Boris that barring any catastrophic discoveries, I had committed to the car at the agreed, significantly reduced, price, and was not going to start picking him up on small details. And besides I was keen to get on the road - I had a holiday home to get to. Details like the sawed off locking gas cap lid or the complete lack of any tailgate catch mechanism - he described that he hadnt got round to fixing it; it kind of stayed shut under it's own weight, and it got more tightly closed the faster you go. That would make sense, especially with that spoiler.

It had an alpine stereo for which he proudly clicked the face on, and an electric aerial - neither worked. The electric windows worked but one only if you pulled the switch out. The service book he had described was present, but rendered into a single slab of papier mache. I surprised him by opening the tool panel (he hadnt known) and revealing... a towing eye. I guess if one tool was present, this was the best one. The gearshift was fantastic in its range of movement. If first gear was in Marseille, reverse was in Geneva. I later learned that all that movement up front was simply down the absence of a very little bushing out back. This explained the transmission description at least. The car was otherwise as expected and I proceeded to make the oil change whilst pleading with the car under my breath to get me home. It started and ran with a slightly reluctant idle but no apparent noises or smoke, and underneath it was all mediterranean red dust and factory cosmolene. Clearly a south of france car born and bred. Sweet. And next, up to the house, to meet the family.

After Franki had sniffed my hand and put the evil eye on me, Cecile introduced herself, in a swimsuit and sarong, with a slightly distracting French demi-curtsey and an 'enchanté'. That is how young ladies introduce themselves over there of course. Not 'sup?, not 'Hi', not even 'pleased to meet you', but 'I am enchanted to meet you'. Only in France. But next, jarring me from my reverie, on to the wife, who was not enchanted in the least, as perhaps she didnt quite trust this mad Scotsman, but mainly because the MONEY HADNT LANDED. But Madame I insisted, it has - regardez mon blackberry - voila, les numeros! But it was still not registered in the account of Boris. And so followed an uncomfortable 45 minutes of laptop regarding and suspiciously shaped roll up cigarette smoking (Boris) while I sat having my toes licked by Franki, wondering if I was going to have to stay the night, whilst simultaneously trying not to be caught looking at Cecile who had now returned to busying herself by languidly floating around the pool on an inflatable. And then at last, the money landed, and I was all set.

But one last thing: could he help me with breakdown insurance? Could he keep official possession of the car until I made the English Channel, and I could call him and use his cover, if for some bizarre reason this pristine sports car had an issue? More hard stares from wife and Franki. Ignoring them, Boris said yes, but that he did not have cover. So I paid him 30 Euros and he took out cover. Which takes 24 hours to activate. And so, from here to the holiday house, I was at the mercy of the Porsche Gods. And do not get any speeding tickets, he said, persuasively.

Alors, on y va, it was time to hit the road. Following the bouncy Corsa, I drove my new 928 to the gas station, with her tailgate chattering excitedly in rhythm to the road bumps. I filled up, and went to start the car - and, nothing. Boris told me, that it sometimes did that, and just to wiggle the ignition a little. Comme ca - it started. He wished me bon chance and bon voyage and took his leave. I needed to buy a usb charger for my phone (I was on a disappearing battery, and so apologies for the lack of photos), so my first port of call was a nearby hypermarche.

And then back to the car in the perfectly flat car park, alone in France, the afternoon wearing on, 5 hours drive ahead of me, no breakdown cover for 22 hours. Into the old 928 I hopped. And no matter how much wiggling was applied to the ignition barrel, the car simply would not restart.

skpyle

Oh...the suspense.