Taking the right Corsa

A FOOL and his money are soon parted. I do not know for sure whether this adage is entirely correct, the main reason being that although I am admittedly a fool in many respects, I have never possessed much money for any length of time. Over the years, I have spent frivolously on ale, the occasional date, guitars, motorcycles and, of course, cars. I’ve made a few bob out of automobiles one way or another but, conversely, I’ve lost a fair bit on them, too.

However, over the decades, it has been possible to progress car-wise from bangers to relatively decent stuff, and one huge change in my way of thinking pertains to dealers. A few years back, I was almost always scathing of car sales emporiums and, in particular, main dealers. Whereas these days I would not necessarily entrust a car to a main dealership for repairs, based on prices I’ve been quoted, I would be reluctant to buy one from anybody else.

The thing is (and I admit that there are always exceptions to prove the rule), what you pay out initially is more than outweighed by the aftersales back-up. At this juncture, there will be a pause for the insertion of fanfares and other moving pieces of music, announcing the relating of a few experiences that you know, inevitably, are to follow (come on, it’s what I get paid for, all right?).

Last year, the Connolly mob bought a Vauxhall ADAM as a sensible form of transport. We needed to cut down on expenses and that meant selling our PT Cruiser and Vauxhall Astra Twintop. They were both in great form, but tax, insurance and