A bubble car that shaped my youth
I AM delighted the bubble car is making a comeback (Mail). When I was 22 in 1958, my father bought me one as my first car and I paid him back monthly. It was a fantastic car, so easy to drive and economic to run, and we shared lots of adventures. The first winter was very foggy and one day driving back from work in a peasouper, I was so frightened that I abandoned the bubble car and walked miles to get home. I was a member of the local dramatic and social club and I drove Father Christmas — with his head poking out of the open-top so he could wave at the passers-by — around the area to advertise our charity fundraiser (right). A bubble car wasn’t just for short trips in town — I toured Scotland with a friend in mine. There were no motorways then so it was a long journey, but that didn’t deter us. However, we didn’t attempt Ben Nevis on foot or in the bubble car! The only drawback was whenever I had to overtake a lorry. The slipstream could be unnerving, especially on a windy day. My brother and his wife also owned a bubble car and went on a driving holiday around Ireland. After a few years, I traded mine in for a Morris 1000, but I have never forgotten it.
VERNICE BAKER, Poynton, Cheshire. IN THE Sixties, I was visiting Lancaster Priory with my four young children when we got chatting to a blacksmith. He loved the place, pointing out mason’s marks and telling us about its history. Eventually he said he was going home for his lunch and we pottered outside after him. He was a big man in all directions and strode up to the car park, where he opened the front of a bubble car and got in. It fitted him like an overcoat — heaven knows how he managed to squeeze in it — and he drove off with a wave. Lovely man, great car.
PAT ELLISON-REED, Glossop, Derbys.