Forwards and occasionally sidewards – everyday musings of life

The Cayenne is officially sick, though the garage suspects it’s nothing more sinister than a faulty speed sensor.

Apparently, a single malfunctioning sensor is enough to throw the car’s entire onboard computer into sheer chaos, which is precisely what happened. The dashboard lit up like Blackpool illuminations—scrolling through an endless sequence of terrifying error messages, flashing warnings, and sounding alarm buzzers. For a brief, dramatic moment, I was convinced the vehicle had initiated a self-destruct sequence and I had 30 seconds to evacuate the cabin.

Now, it sits in total silence on the driveway, awaiting a proper diagnosis. In times gone by, a socket set, a screwdriver, and a judiciously applied big hammer would have sorted out most car troubles. Nowadays, all you apparently need to repair a motor is a laptop and the latest software update. There isn’t even a single recognisable nut or bolt under the bonnet anymore. I’m sure it isn’t quite that simple, but greasy tools appear to be a thing of the past.

Being grounded without wheels, I decided to channel my energy into clearing out the garage storage so I can finally get my table tennis table and robot set back up. Given my growing distrust of modern tech, placing my physical safety in the hands of a motorised robot that shoots spinning plastic balls at my head feels slightly risky—especially while a fellow microchip-driven machine sits crippled on the drive. I just hope the table tennis robot doesn’t catch whatever software virus the Porsche has, or I’ll be dodging high-speed forehands in limp mode

Fifteen trips and dozens of heavy boxes later, the garage is finally clear and the snug is completely rammed. I didn’t dare open a single box; inspecting the contents is strictly a task for a wet winter’s day. For now, their destination is the loft (once it’s boarded out), where they will most likely be forgotten about until the end of time.

By the time the floor space was clear, I didn’t have an ounce of energy left to actually play table tennis after all that lifting and hauling. Still, the arena is prepped and ready for tomorrow.