Naipablaak: 14.08.2020
Under normal circumstances, it is already quite difficult to sell a campervan in New Zealand in March or April. Most people leave at this time and only a few backpackers arrive. Due to Corona, it was almost impossible to sell our cars for a fair price. Suddenly, almost all backpackers wanted to get rid of their cars, and due to the travel ban, no new ones were coming into the country. The normal price for a campervan had therefore dropped from $3000 to $4000 to $1000.
Throughout the months, we had worried so much about the condition of our car: that it would break down at any moment, that it was losing oil, that our battery would need help again... No one even gave a thought to the possibility that Floris' car might not be okay. Two days before the curfew, we drove half an hour to a campground just outside of Christchurch, where we had an appointment with a Frenchman who wanted to see Floris' car. He wasn't picky at all and would have definitely taken Flori's car if it hadn't been for the failed oil check. There was absolutely no oil on the dipstick, which is not a good sign as far as I know :D The Frenchman said he would still take it with a renewed MOT.
Of course, we thought. The MOT only cost 30€ and since it actually expired in June, that should work. Well, too bad that the hearse failed, and completely so. Granted, the inspector was probably a little stricter than ours... Nevertheless, six out of eight categories were not okay, and I don't think the MOT would have turned out differently at another garage.
By the way, Flori had reduced the price for the hearse in Blenheim by trying to park it between our tiny campsite and the fence. In the process, he crashed the passenger door against the fence post. This not only attracted a lot of attention, but it was also damn difficult to reverse out without causing any more damage. It didn't work out that well: there is now a 10 centimeter wide dent along the entire right side. (Flori called it a "small scratch").
So here we were in our motel, with a 24-year-old car with 340,000 kilometers on it, and a junker of a hearse on our hands. And two days before the curfew. The Frenchman (whom we, by the way, dropped off with his broken bicycle at a bike shop in Christchurch) asked several more times how the MOT had turned out and whether we would get the faults repaired. To make matters worse, he had forgotten his old blanket in Floris' car and was still waiting at the other end of the city for us to bring it to him. Unfortunately, we had to take it away from him.
We made a half-hearted attempt to hide the failed MOT and sell the hearse to a dealer for $600 via Facebook. But when he asked for my full name to protect himself, we quickly changed our minds. (I can't do anything illegal. I just can't!). Flori and Celina tried to get rid of the car at a dealer who wanted to give him $200, so €120. Flori was confident that he could have squeezed out another €50.
With the intention of not returning to the motel with the hearse, we drove to another dealer the next day, who in turn sent us to another dealer. The area where we ended up was probably one of the worst in all of Christchurch. The industrial area bordered a huge cemetery and gave the impression of being killed around the next corner. Flori was directed to a shop called "Cars, dead or alive". The guy gave Flori $350 in cash and the hearse could stay right there. That was still very little money, but together with Floris' car, a huge burden was lifted off our shoulders.
The weather was totally uncomfortable, stormy, and cold. It matched the area and our mood. For 20 minutes we huddled behind a toilet in a park right behind the cemetery, where we waited for Celina. We went to the supermarket again to shop for the next few days during the curfew. By now, the situation had escalated so much that there was an eternal line in front of the supermarket, and the staff had to control the entrance to prevent too many customers from being inside at once. The atmosphere was so eerie that we were very relieved to be able to return to the motel quickly.
The chaotic car sale
We realized right after the purchase that we had spent too much on our car. We assumed from the beginning that we would make a loss, which ultimately turned out to be the case. However, we are very happy with how everything went with our car. After all, we felt comfortable in it, it had enough space for all our luggage, it drove well, and apart from the jump starts and a flat tire, we had no problems at all.
10,000 kilometers, 10 jump starts, 3 dents, and 6 months later, it was now time to sell our beloved Toyota Estima.
Since our MOT naturally expired just when we wanted to start selling the car, we had to take care of it first. We found the defects in our car rather funny than problematic (for example, that we better not lock our trunk, the fuel gauge was acting up, and sometimes we couldn't accelerate for a minute or longer), but that was rather unfavorable for the MOT. So we waited a bit anxiously for the result. In the end, the employee at the garage calmly said, "All good!" when he handed us the car.
After the appointment with the skeptical woman, it was days before someone contacted us again for our Toyota. At 6:00 pm, an older guy with a young woman came by who I think were looking for a camper for their child. They had no further complaints and kept saying "Let's do this" the whole time, but in the end, they needed time to look at another car.
The next afternoon, they canceled on us. But in the morning, an old dealer named Peter had contacted us, who had already offered us $1000 days ago and sent weird, very long messages without punctuation. He had even offered us to stay for free on his property just outside of Christchurch. He would even have driven us to the airport. However, we preferred to stay near supermarkets and, above all, not leave our nice motel. Nevertheless, he checked out the car.
Peter was an old man who explained that he would sail out to sea with his wife on his boat before the curfew and stay there until the end of Corona. (A solid plan!). He was really nice, chatted with us a bit, checked out the car, and said that there were currently around 30,000 campervans for sale in Christchurch. He said he would still look at another Toyota from another desperate backpacker and would get back to us in half an hour. However, he assured us that he would probably take both cars, as he felt obliged to help. After that, Peter seemed to have lost his phone because we didn't hear from him again for 5 hours. Once again, we went through a few tense hours because Peter was pretty much our last chance not to be stuck with the car.
He finally wrote the following: He only had $1400 and to take both cars, he could only give us $700. Of course, we accepted the offer anyway. He then wrote, "Lovely Anna, I wish I had more, but I have to help a lot of people." The other backpacker was also satisfied. At the same time, Peter offered me New Zealand grass to enjoy the rest of my vacation. I politely declined, but he still picked up the car the next morning.
To be continued...