This albatross is starting to smell foul.
Tuesday morning I received a most welcome telephone call from the scooter garage.
The relay had arrived. Taaaa-Raaaah !
I couldn't believe my luck and really I should have known better than to have been so optimistic as to think that was the end of it.

I paid for the aforementioned item and drove home with visions of me, dressed in my biker leathers and a screaming skull helmet, menacing the neighbours at 25 MPH.
With a practised hand I whipped off the plastic casing and proceeded to fit the relay into its connection.
It didn't take long (aprox .3 of a second) for me to realise that I was cutting bread with a candle on this one and that the spacing on the points of the relay were simply too far apart for it to sit right.
It was the wrong relay.
In fact, after taking a picture of the scooter with my mobile and then showing it to the people at the workshop with its documents, we found out that they'd ordered the right part for the wrong scooter... ahem. How on earth they managed to order for the wrong scooter I will never know as I gave them the documents the first time they ordered.

So, dear reader, now you've witnessed a classic example of the famous Rule of Jones, (If it can go wrong, it already has), and you'll now know what I'm up against in life.
Bah.

Reg :-(