From being a very young boy, I always had a keen interest in cars, even though my parents never owned one. I went to the motor show every year from the mid 1970s, and collected all the brochures I could find. I was able to quote statistics and data from these and also from the Observer’s Book of Automobiles which I read devotedly. Even as a teenager, I was aware of the cost of motoring, and so my ideal cars weren’t actually supercars, which I knew I could never afford, but instead, I was more interested in smaller cars that were attractive yet offered low running costs. I remember being very impressed with a little-known model called the Ginetta G15. Research now shows that only 800 cars were produced between 1967 and 1974 using a Sunbeam Sport engine. It’s odd to think that even as an11-year-old, I considered it important that the car could achieve 43mpg which was more than the Hillman Imp which shared the same engine. That the Ginetta was far more attractive, significantly more powerful and also faster certainly helped. I clearly took no account of insurance costs, nor practicality, since the Ginetta was a tiny two-seater with a wheelbase not much greater than the original Mini. I’ve never seen one on the road, however.
The cars I actually owned could never be described as classics, but apart from the odd exception, I enjoyed owning them. Even though some of the models were allegedly unreliable (the Montego), I seemed to get the good ones. The only cars that were truly dreadful were the Morris Marina and the Austin Maestro. I was keen to buy British (I still am), and low running costs were a major influence, and so my stable has owned the following cars over the years.
| Make/model | Year built | Owned | Comments |
| Vauxhall Viva HB SL | 1970 | 77-79 | Very pretty car, but basic. Even the heater was an optional extra. |
| Morris Marina 4-door saloon | 1976 | 79-83 | Awful car, unreliable, rusty and handled like a pig. But it was roomy. |
| Austin Mini 850 | 1979 | 83-84 | Great little car, but with a dubious history. Rather small, but great fun to drive. |
| Austin Metro 1.0L | 1982 | 84-85 | Terrific little car. Only changed it to buy a better spec’d Metro. |
| Austin Metro Vanden Plas 1.3 | 1985 | 85-89 | Beautiful car, Geraldine’s more than mine. Sold because it was rear-shunted and was never quite the same after being rebuilt |
| Austin Metro 1.0 L | 1985 | 85-87 | Bought as a second car when I stopped cycling to work. Sold to fund a house move. |
| Austin Metro 1.3 GS | 1989 | 89-94 | Replacement for the Vanden Plas, but never as good. |
| Austin Maestro 1.6 L | 1984 | 90-90 | Worst buy ever. It seemed to use as much oil as petrol. Sold after 11 months and seen two days later broken down by the roadside. |
| Rover Montego DLX | 1991 | 91-96 | First real ‘family’ car. Roomy, reliable, economical and comfortable. |
| Fiat Punto TD SLX | 1994 | 94-99 | Actually a lease car for Geraldine. Very impressive car if a bit tinny. |
| Rover 200 SD | 1996 | 96-02 | To replace the Montego. The best car Rover made, in my view. |
| Renault Scenic | 1999 | 99-03 | Replacement lease car for Punto. Lovely to drive, but not the most reliable – I’m glad I didn’t pay the repair bills, especially for brakes. |
| Honda Jazz SE | 2002 | 02-08 | One of the first in the country. I’d still have it now if it hadn’t been written off. |
| Fiat Punto ELX | 1998 | 03-06 | Bought from Geraldine’s dad. Good little car with low mileage and cheap to run. |
| Honda Civic ES | 2006 | 06-12 | Fantastic car, fast, easy to drive, reliable, but a very hard ride – like being dragged around on a shovel. |
| Honda Jazz SE | 2008 | 09-09 | Replacement for first Jazz, but we couldn’t get on with it. I suspect that the engine wasn’t set up correctly – part-ex’d after 87 days! |
| Honda Jazz 1.4 EX | 2008 | 09-date | Still own it. It was a demonstrator for the Mk 2 Jazz & we were loaned it when ours was being fixed & fell in love. |
| Volkswagen Polo L | 1996 | 09-12 | Bought for the children to learn to drive. Great car, covering 20k miles in our ownership. It sadly became unreliable and had to go. |
| Honda Civic ES Diesel | 2012 | 12-date | Much more economical and comfortable than the previous Civic. |
The Morris Marina, bought for £900 in 1979 when it was just three years old was dreadful. The car was old when it was first launched in 1971, having inherited the steering geometry of the Morris Minor, which itself was designed in 1947. At this time, all manufacturers of small cars were moving to front-wheel drive, which Austin had initially developed in the 1950s, but the Marina stubbornly held onto rear wheel drive. The handling was appalling, with dangerous amounts of understeer, but driving it certainly kept me alert. My car was rusting even as I bought it, and during its three-year tenure with me I fitted new sills, wings, exhaust pipes, batteries, a clutch, a radiator plus numerous other bits and bobs just to keep it on the road. I suspect that Unipart sales soared at that time. The car regularly failed to start, or ran rough, and my amateur vehicle maintenance skills probably made it worse. It used (or leaked) gallons of oil over its time and petrol consumption was dire. I sold it just prior to getting married to try and save money on vehicle running costs.
The 1979 Mini I replaced it with was cheaper to run, but had its own issues since it had been in an accident and been rebuilt. One peculiar feature was that its speedometer was hopelessly optimistic. It would report that I was doing 60mph whilst I could clearly tell that I wasn’t. When measured against other friends’ cars, I worked out that it was reading between 15% and 20% fast. From this, I assumed that its odometer would be also reading up to 20% higher than the mileage I was covering which boosted the reported fuel consumption, but increased the recorded mileage! I sold it after fifteen months and 15,000 miles. Or was it 12,500 miles? Who knows?
My cars gradually improved in reliability, but it took me until 2002 before I bought a car primarily chosen for its reliability record. My experience since then is that Hondas don’t go wrong. The last Civic I owned caused me to worry when an engine warning light came on whilst travelling to Heathrow, but after investigation, it turned out to be sensor that had failed, not the engine.
I’m thankful that I’ve never really hankered after expensive cars. As a boy, I may have drooled over them at motor shows, but as an adult, I quickly realised that a car’s purpose is to get you from A to B, and what it looks like doesn’t matter – you can’t see it when you’re driving anyway. Reliability and practicality are paramount for me, and as I get older, I have less of a desire to change cars, and recently, I’ve been keeping cars for six years or more. I have learned that the excitement of owning a new car quickly fades, and I still enjoy driving my four-year-old Civic as much as I did when it was new. There’s a couple of life-lessons here. Owning ‘stuff’ doesn’t make you happy and the best things in life aren’t things.
The Montego was a surprise. Everyone I spoke to advised me to keep away from Austin (or Rover as they became), although I’d enjoyed the four Metros I’d owned. I considered that the Maestro was a ’Friday’ car (one which rolled off the production line at Cowley on a Friday when the workforce were eager to get away for the weekend. Come to think of it, the Marina was also built at Cowley, so perhaps that’s key?) Anyway, I had confidence that the Montego, built in Longbridge, would be fine and so it turned out. I drove it for 5½ years, covering nearly 60,000 miles with very little going wrong. One memorable breakdown sticks with me, however. We were on holiday in South Devon, and we’d been mooching round an antique shop in Plymouth (no idea why – it must have been raining or something) when I spotted an antique barometer just like my parents owned. I’d always admired the barometer at home and I wanted to buy this one as a treat. It was about £80, but I didn’t purchase it there and then, instead deciding to buy it at the end of the holiday. The next day, the Montego broke down, and needed a new alternator at a cost of, you’ve guessed, £80! The garage suggested that I should take the old alternator to hang on the wall when I told them that the money had been earmarked to buy an antique barometer. I declined their kind offer. When Mum died, I inherited the family barometer which now hangs in pride of place in our hallway.
I still love driving, as long as I’m heading north. Quieter roads have always appealed, and over my forty-year driving career, I’ve found that any roads south of Preston are inferior to those north of the city. I have never enjoyed motorway driving, and I would much prefer to drive at a slower pace on A and B roads than drive on a motorway. This is one reason we would often take two days on journeys travelling to our holiday destination. If I was driving to Dorset, Devon or Cornwall, I would plan a route which would typically include a motorway hop to bypass Warrington, then down the A49 as far as Ross-on-Wye with stops, maybe at Ludlow or Hereford before following the Wye Valley to cross the Severn Bridge and stay overnight in the Bristol area. This meant that I could enjoy the good driving roads, we could stop off for lunch somewhere prettier than Frankley services and also see a bit of the country. I accept that the children perhaps didn’t enjoy these journeys as much as I did, but neither would they have enjoyed motorways, especially if they involved traffic jams. My method meant that we were always moving, and we could take frequent stops.
When Emily was around eight years old she would ask me what time we would arrive at our destination, and I enjoyed working it out in my head before announcing that we’d arrive at 6pm (or whatever). She was always amazed that I could predict the arrival time hours in advance, even before we set off. This was before SatNavs, but I would have previously calculated the distance, I knew my driving speed on any given road, and could easily work out the duration in my head. I had always done this on a bike, and I simply increased the average speed when I was in a car. I was proud of my accuracy, but GPS has robbed me of one of life’s little pleasures. Are you listening Garmin?
In 1986, I decided that I wanted someone to confirm that my driving was still up to standard, so I enrolled onto a local group of the Institute of Advanced Motorists (IAM) at Chorley. After several ‘observation runs’, having other advanced drivers sitting beside me, I was declared ready to take my advanced test. Although the people giving advice were very pedantic and followed the ‘police method’ to the letter, they taught me how to anticipate hazards and to be ready for whatever might happen on the roads. They taught me to drive ‘to the limit’, which could be one of many things: the speed limit, the car’s mechanical ability, the visibility, the road conditions or a limit of ability. I still drive to the limit today, although I have noticed that I’ve slowed down over the years. Following these rules meant that I enjoyed driving more, and could take pride in the skill. I passed my advanced test in 1987, which comprised 90 minutes of mixed driving ‘to the limit’ with an ex-police driving instructor in the passenger seat. I’m still a member of the IAM, but their magazine is dire. It is full of letters from boring members complaining about other road users not following the police method. I ask myself each time, who do they think they are writing to? Everyone who reads the magazine is an IAM member. So why do I keep renewing my membership each year? It’s partly pride, but also because it offers me cheaper car insurance!
