VOLVO 240GL
RUN BY Jack Phillips OWNED SINCE August 2016 PREVIOUS REPORT July
I think it had been listening. Talk of swapping our impractical Clio 197 for a softer-sprung and five-door bore to lighten the old girl’s load sprang it into action.
At first it struck out at those around it, and a Bank Holiday ditherer felt the force. But, inexplicably stopping on a sliproad for someone else’s red light doesn’t leave much chance for anyone. The 240 seemed to come away unscathed but for a mark on the plastic bumper. Until I pulled in to the car stereo fitter, who pointed out that the sidelight was hanging on by its cable.
Things turned dramatically worse on the way to an event at Bicester a few weeks later, and almost catastrophically so. Pal Damon Cogman running in convoy in his (better) ’80s saloon, a BMW 525e, nearly collected the sidelight as it came spectacularly away, taking the connections with it, but luckily it exploded onto the M40’s asphalt and not his pristine sharknose. We were still guided to the pre-’90s car park, despite the dishevelled car at the front (the random Porsche 911 tagged on the back might have helped…), and C&SC contributor Gary Axon remarked that we’d be perfect for the Festival of the Unexceptional in a few weeks’ time. He meant it in a good way, I think.
That night, a post on a Volvo 240 Facebook page had a replacement on its way for a fiver. It was almost serendipitous, because the car was booked in for a full service at DNS in Hastings and to have some Turbo alloys fitted that DNS owner Darren Smith had sourced. Naturally, it arrived a day late.
The next part of the Volvo’s acting out proved even worse, not least for plans to go to the Lake District. Walking down to collect the car, my phone rang and Darren said he could smell fuel in the coolant. Head gasket likely gone, no Lake District or Fotu. One headscratch in the office later and a Porsche Panamera was booked for Future classic (September), and Rob Durrant at Porsche came to the rescue – even extending the loan so I could attend a funeral. One barge swapped for a cruise liner.
After a few static weeks, the Goodwood Festival of Speed meant the Volvo could be dropped off on the way back to London via an unexpectedly long detour. Two weeks, Darren thought. But…
Draining the engine proved harder than expected: it was so clogged with rusty orange gloop that nothing came out; the drainage holes were no longer draining, or holes. “We must have got it just in time,” reckoned Darren.
That meant the head took longer than expected, not helped by slow delivery of parts from Sweden, but it gave Darren time to clean up the engine bay – turns out it’s blue in there – and to affix the light.
Plans to attend the Radwood event at Goodwood were scuppered; Darren said he would have lent me his 27,000-mile Capri to take, but it’s not yet finished.
Volvo finally de-rusted and looking and driving like new, Darren took it for a day to check all was okay. Only for a water leak to present itself, inevitably. The brittle water pump had cracked and needed to be replaced.
By then the MOT had expired and, despite a clean bill of health 12 months ago, the inner front wing had begun eating itself. Another few days with Darren to cut and weld up, plus some more other worrying-looking spots, and that was all resolved, along with a new headlight because the incumbent had apparently been glued in.
We still haven’t sold the Clio – in fact that’s now with Darren to change pads that were grinding on the way to collect the Volvo. If I didn’t have bad luck, etc.
Nor will we be buying another family car, which hopefully means the 240 will behave for long enough to actually be used for a while. It’s running sweeter than ever; in fact, this is the first time I’ve driven it with all four cylinders firing.