The delights of the smaller car obvious
I’ve never owned a flash car.
As it stands, almost all of my cars have been at least 17 years old, and the current situation is no exception. We have an antique Toyota Corona and a little less antique Toyota Runx.
Growing up on a farm, I learnt to drive in a 1972 Holden Commonwealth Games car. It was Dad’s pride and joy, but there certainly wasn’t a lot of joy as he watched his daughters crunch the column gear stick.Then he let us loose in a Vauxhall Chevette and I’ve never upgraded to the big car club since. All of my cars have been small, enough room for me to fit my handbag in the boot. So with a family trip to Wellington over the long weekend on the cards, my wonderful mother-in-law suggested we do a car swap and take her flash car to Wellington.
Her car is very nice and has four distinct rings on its grill. To buy a car like this you see Terry at Eurocity. I’ve never had the privilege of Terry showing me around a potential car, and unless I win Lotto then I probably never will.
To really look the part I bought a new pair of cheap sunglasses and we drove in luxury down to Wellington. When you’re driving a nice car there are a few things to get used to. It tells you when you’ve done something stupid with a message on the dash telling you you’re an idiot when you left the handbrake on and tried to drive away. The other thing to get used to is the unspoken ‘flash car’ club that you now belong to when you’re on the road. There’s a slight nod of the head when you pass someone else who’s in your club. I’d describe it as a kind of smugness. That smug feeling continues when you don’t have to pull over on the Rimutakas to let the trail of cars that you’ve held up pass you. You get to pass cars on the Rimutakas. It’s very liberating but fleeting because it’s back to reality now. I’m zipping around town in my little Runx, back to the small car club, but still kind of smug because at least we can park anywhere.
The Hits DJs Adam Green and Megan Banks.