Pre-production MINI Cooper driven
The Jag finally gets to stretch its legs after 2020’s horror story
1997 JAGUAR XJ6 3.2 SPORT
Seven months. That’s how long my Jaguar was off the road, thanks to an unholy combination of lockdown and lousy winter weather. I made sure that I started and warmed the straight-six through every couple of weeks, though I will confess that I inadvertently allowed the battery to go flat during the very deepest, darkest days of winter. Blame the cancellation of Christmas or a surfeit of good red wine, but either way I went to start it one day early in the New Year only to be presented with a dark dashboard and a dead engine. Thankfully, my faithful Ring mains battery charger came to my rescue yet again.
I had planned to get the car serviced and put through an MoT towards the end of January, but the roads were still awash with saline slush weeks after heavy snowfall in eastern England and besides – what’s the point in MoT-ing a car only for it to remain under COVIDinduced house arrest for the next three months or more? As such, I postponed the work indefinitely and put my classic dreams on hold for a while, just like everyone else.
I decided that I’d waited long enough by late March and booked the big fella in to my nearest Jaguar specialist, Nene Jag Specialists in Peterborough (01733 349042, nenejags.co.uk). I’d discovered NJS earlier in the year through a simple online search and decided to give the place a try when subsequent consultation among the X300 Facebook fraternity resulted in overwhelmingly positive comments. There are perfectly good garages within spitting distance of my home, of course, but I really felt that the Jag’s existing service history is way too good for me to entrust its regular fettling to anyone other than another marque specialist.
Come the big day, I was up early and set about extricating YNO from its winter quarters. Off came the cover, in went the ignition key and up went my heart rate as the familiar metallic start-up chunter was replaced by the unmistakable sound of six cylinders firing in perfect harmony. I swear I could almost hear the
Jag purring as it saw daylight for the first time in 28 weeks.
I nipped up the road to splash thirty quids’ worth of unleaded into the tank and check the tyre pressures before wafting my son to school in wood ‘n’ leather luxury (much to his delight) and then driving on to NJS.
Now, a rush-hour run to a Peterborough trading estate on a dull March Tuesday morning may be no-one’s idea of a dream inaugural classic car outing, but I enjoyed every last second of that drive, re-discovering the Jag’s silken ride, hushed refinement and willingness to bare its teeth when throttle meets carpet. Best of all, it had been such a long time since my last proper drive of the car that it almost felt like a brand-new experience; it would appear that absence really does make the heart grow fonder.
Waiting for news of the MoT was fraught with nightmare visions of flat-spotted tyres ( branded replacements for which start at around £100 per corner) and emissions well into the stratosphere, but I needn’t have worried; the clarion call came midafternoon with the good news that the Jag had passed with only one advisory – having an undersealed underside. Is that a bad thing?
NJS also serviced it and addressed a couple of minor trimrelated issues – specifically a dead passenger vanity mirror light bulb and a dislodged rear ashtray finisher. Yeah, I know – first world issues… All in all, an impressive first experience – YNO will be going back there, that’s for sure.
The subsequent drive home – in brilliant sunshine, no less – was, if anything, even better than the drive out, and I celebrated the car’s triumphant return to the road by finally installing the made-tomeasure floor mats that I ordered just after Christmas.
There are a couple of jobs that I’d like to tackle before the show season (whatever that might look like) kicks off, though I’m hoping that a thorough valet and finding a new set of alloy wheel centre caps to replace the rather tired originals won’t be exactly taxing.
Intriguingly, the Jaguar Breakfast Club has provisionally pencilled in its first get-together of the year at Gaydon on 22 May as I write. Will the XJ6 and I finally make it there?
More next time…