Summer 2013, time has come to test our Żuk (Beatle in English though not by Volkswagen). And we believe in testing things the hard way. Two thousand kilometres, a drive to the other end of Poland and the fantastic Lower Silesian landscapes in front of our lense.

But, first we had to get there. And this meant driving nearly six hundred kilometres in scorching (for Polish standards) heat. We decided to leave in the afternoon, around five p.m. to avoid the hottest hours. Testing the headlight then.

When four in the morning came we already knew they are great. The same, however, can’t be said about the level of noise in the driver’s cabin. In order to keep the noise more or less acceptable, you must keep the speed below 55km/h. At 75 km/h the noise is deafening. Two hours after finishing the journey you still have a feeling you are driving and you still hear the roar of the engine.

The next pleasant surprise came at the petrol station – our Żuk used only about 7 litres per a hundred kilometres – to be honest, we expected a much worse result. Unfortunately, for the moment that was the end of pleasant surprises. The lack of air conditioning means that the steel box of the car heats very quickly and you can work freely only on a cloudy and rather cool day or you have to park your car in shade. The second surprise was much worse. The diesel we filled our tank with turned up to be contaminated and our car stalled twice and needed to be towed for thirty kilometres. And we had taken care to choose a station belonging to a reputable chain to avoid precisely this kind of situation. Once we repaired the car, we lost our exhaust pipe and half of the holiday was gone without taking a single picture. Fortunately, once we repaired the car again, the heatwave had passed and we finally could get back to work.
Once the holiday ended and we got back home, I can say one thing. I really like this car and the idea to buy it was really good. Hot and sunny days are not very frequent in this part of the world and I am finally free from the strings tying me to my darkroom. Time for wetplate in the field.