The rot has set in. I’ve bought a welder
Three years ago, my wife forced me to learn to drive. She also unwittingly unleashed my latent need to collect old cars, the dreadful consequences of which haunt her to this day. The first purchase was a relatively sensible Volvo 940 estate; the last of the ‘proper’, redblock, steampowered Volvos. Driving an enormous greenhouse while seated in a leather armchair was all well and good, but I wanted more. I constantly browsed ebay, but the dream bangers of my youth were now far beyond my reach and extremely rusty to boot. Then I saw an advert for a Porsche 924. It was white with the Bridget Riley, op-art nightmare Pascha interior and it was £800. £800! There had to be a catch, but my research didn’t reveal one; they were galvanised from new, mostly made of easily-sourced Volkswagen parts and, crucially, made by Germans.
The problem was that I knew absolutely nothing about fixing cars. Still, I reasoned that there was only one way to learn and soon after I bought one for £750, without the headache-inducing Pascha, and drove it a hair-raising 200 miles home with a knackered alternator and a broken fan. And I had my first drive on the M25 into the bargain.
What it saved me in money it’s cost me in time, anguish, bewilderment and good, old-fashioned, general-purpose angst. Somehow, despite my cackhanded custodianship, the 924 is still on the road.
Buoyed by this lack of failure I recently bought myself a frighteningly cheap Range Rover Classic. And shortly after that a welder. I love the Range Rover, but I often find myself fantasising about torching it in a field. I expect my wife does, too… David Harker, Royston, Hertfordshire