Lights Out - Spotlight On - Part 2

Finally, the big day of this year's departure has arrived!
The light on the Mistral works perfectly after Zappa's all-day and thorough overhaul. I've already sorted out my things, just a few more hours at the office, empty the fridge, and then we can go.

So that means Zappa has also installed the flower watering system on the terrace, gathered various emergency tools, and now needs to quickly choose his outfit.

Around 8:00 PM, we will truly be ready to start. The caravan will be connected, and a final safety light check is still to take place. I stand behind the vehicle in the icy east wind, giving the okay for the brightly glowing tail light. And I wait for the blinking and braking. Nothing happens.
Zappa gets out of the Kangoo and fiddles again with the connection socket between the car and the caravan.
Zappa gets back in. I am still waiting in the icy east wind for the signals. Nothing happens.
Oh dear! What’s wrong this time?

I go to my travel companion, who is sitting in the driver's seat, staring intensively at the dashboard in desperate agony.
Two ominous indicators are lit: a thick wrench and the swerving car. The light that indicates a fault in the ABS system, which forced us to end our tour in the French Central Massif last year with ADAC and various other adventures:

https://vakantio.de/chateaugeschichten/und-taeglich-gruesst-das-murmeltier

https://vakantio.de/chateaugeschichten/taxi-nach-paris

This can't be true - can it? We look at each other, incredulous. This is outrageous! This is unbelievable!
And why is this light even on? What could possibly be broken now?
And should I really be glad that this is happening here at home and not somewhere in foreign snowy mountains with a caravan in tow, which no ADAC will bring back home?
I'm afraid I must.

Zappa tries again with a full reset, disconnecting all batteries from the system. The light doesn’t come back on when starting. Phew! Lucky us?
We drive without Mistral a lap around the village, and the light comes back on the way.
At the sports field, Zappa repeats the procedure. With the same result: the cursed indicator lights up again in bright yellow after just a few meters.
The Kangoo brakes flawlessly, it doesn’t swerve, it doesn’t act out at all. Still, the damned message keeps appearing.

We can't possibly leave like this! This journey is unimaginable.
Back home, we hang our heads and put our sleep gear back in its place in the bed. It's once again pitch dark; who decided that the sun must set so early in September?
A repeated examination of the technology is postponed to tomorrow; Zappa consults his experienced specialists in the online Kangoo forum once more, and I rethink our options to avoid spending the next four vacation weeks on a rainy terrace:
Grandpa Achim's red racer is still in the east, but first, the solar panel would need to be put on the roof for power generation.
Or the camping conversion for the Pyrenees-white Twingo is still in the garage, needing only to be 'installed' - plus solar power.
Or we leave the Mistral at home and only go with the robber den, ignoring the pesky light but then needing to go far south, as the temperatures are no longer very summery.
Or should I just book the cruise?

The next morning, Zappa talks to his personal Kangoo advisor and receives the invaluable tip that possibly the brake light switch is stuck.
Hope arises!

The device is removed and inspected. Reinstalled. Battery reset. Unfortunately, no luck...
Now the master checks the fuses again and behold: the one for the brake light is broken.
Hope arises.

A suitable fuse is removed from the Twingo and put into the Kangoo. The cursed indicator is off! Hooray! The problem is resolved! We can go on our trip.
Quickly connect the caravan and do a light check.
But as soon as the caravan's plug is connected to the car's coupling, the cursed ABS symbol lights up!

Okay, that narrows down the possibilities. This connection clearly triggers the error message.
The fuse has also blown again, so the expert concludes that a short circuit is triggered by the caravan. The expert naturally has the appropriate technical equipment and begins the meticulous search for the error devil.

And behold: the connection for the right tail light on the Mistral is not sufficiently insulated and triggers the technical defect.
Hope arises!
The culprit is now carefully insulated anew and thickly with tape and black-and-yellow tiger tape.
The Twingo has to sacrifice another fuse, and now the car and caravan are joined together once again.
Crackling tension fills the air!
Hope arises!

The engine purrs, the exhaust smells, the light is off. And stays off.
Unbelievable: it’s done! The problem has been found, the error rectified, no towing service is needed, we can set off!!!
I gather all the stuff again, just need to refuel and quickly go to the pharmacy, making sure not to forget anything, and then we’re off!

We spend the first night between grumbling train tracks and the Bensheimer Poultry Breeding Association, with various more or less melodic rooster crows in the early morning hours, overlooking Auerbach Castle, and wonder a bit why the ABS light is on when the brake light isn’t working...