In preparation for the Camino trip, I went to the nearest Brompton authorized dealer—which, because life is hilarious like that, is a “mere” three hours away in Toulouse—to replace the seat post sleeve. I didn’t have the specialized tools to do it myself.
As is often the case, once I arrived, the mechanics did what mechanics do best: discovered a few other things that “needed” replacing. I reluctantly agreed—figuring that with a long-distance trip ahead, it was better to be safe than stranded mid-ride. They finished the job just before my train was due to depart, so I didn’t have time to test the bike.
The next day, I went for a test ride, and within five minutes I realized the seat post was slipping even more than before. A closer look revealed that the sleeve had been installed—let’s say—creatively.
I contacted the shop, and in classic French fashion, they expertly sidestepped the blame and suggested I was at fault for “rushing” them. Magnifique! They naturally refused to compensate me for the additional hike to Toulouse to fix their masterpiece. But with the trip fast approaching, I had no choice but to go back. In the end, they replaced the sleeve again and also the clamp, just to be safe—so I was satisfied. Hopefully, there won’t be any surprises during the trip.
