TTT; Snap! I managed to take it down to the south of France in 1963. Bottom rad hose popped outside a Gendarmerie in the middle of Paris, and when we managed to get a replacement hose the flics let us in through the bad boys' holding cage to fill up our water bottle at a tap in the yard so we could refill the rad. French crims banging on the bars asking us for fags. Those were the days.
We had a puncture when we were full of hitch-hikers and we had to change a wheel without a jack. They all lifted the car off the wheel and I mimed a wheel change and counted while they held it, to see if they could hold it up long enough. They could, so I said, "Well done! That was the rehearsal; now let's do it for real."