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We had recently emerged from the Richtersveld after driving some hectic routes with a broken front shock. After a windy, cold night spent near Springbok, we set off for the Cederberg with the heater turned up. After a while, a diesel smell became noticeable. I switched off the heater, thinking it might be picking up engine smells. After my wife, too, became aware of the smell, I stopped and discovered an injector pipe with a hairline crack. Back on the farm in KwaZulu-Natal, I’d have fixed the problem easily, but that horrible feeling of being helpless in “the middle of nowhere” set in. After about 30 km, we drove into the village of Garies. The attendant at the fuel station directed us around the corner to the workshop of the local mechanic (I never did get his name unfortunately). Without any fuss, this gentleman removed the offending pipe, braised it, and replaced it before we could drink a cup of coffee. Upon enquiring about payment, we were told that none was required! I need say no more. Oh, yes, one thing: the Garies Tourism Stall is worth a visit – their venison pies are darned good.