Fatherly love

“The two new batteries fitted behind the Land Rover’s seat enable a respectable 30 miles of driving before requiring a recharge”

TAKING a stroll down by one of north London’s fine rivers, idly spotting waterfowl and a selection of interesting boats moored up on the riverbank, I see a man pushing what looks like a miniature Land Rover alongside one of the houseboats.

I shout over a compliment about the little vehicle and he shouts back that he’s making it. After a few more bellows, I invite myself across the grass to investigate the vehicle further. Painted pillar-box red, this little gem is a completely handmade miniature Land Rover, a work-in-progress well on the way to being the finished article.

“I’m making it for my son Ruairi. It’s his birthday party on Sunday,” says Atilla. “Have you seen how much these cost? They are like four grand!”

Actually, I have. I saw a miniature Land Rover on sale in a glass display case in the Muscat Jaguar Land Rover showroom, although the sales guy told me they only occasionally sell them to wealthy parents whose kids start playing up after becoming bored of looking at adult Land Rovers.

More recently, I saw a secondhand one for sale in the LRM small ads for two grand – two grand! – and was shocked to see it cost more than double how much I paid for the Lightweight: a real life-size vehicle, although admittedly that was well over a decade ago now.

Atilla’s son Ruariri first laid eyes on a miniature Land Rover at one of those family-friendly holiday parks and it was love at first sight.

Since the family owns a Freelander, perhaps the Land Rover bug was already running strong in his blood. Atilla recklessly promised one as a birthday present. Before, that is, he found out how much they actually cost.

A former mechanic (not to mention a committed father), Atilla decided to build one himself, by cannibalising a disability scooter for the chassis and building up from there.

The remains of the first disability scooter is lodged on the prow of his boat as, with no suspension, an ailing motor and with the seat just a bit too small for Ruairi to have a co-pilot sat alongside him, it was deemed unsuitable for the project. Loath to waste it, Atilla says he’s planning to make it into a teardrop caravan for little Ruairi to tow along behind the finished Land Rover.

A second disability scooter, acquired for a mere £20, was better suited for its transformation into a miniature Land Rover. It was apparently broken but had two new batteries, making the

£20 sale price on absolute steal – and Atilla had the scooter up and running in half a day. Those two new batteries are now carefully fitted behind the Land Rover’s seat – perfectly executed in familiar black leather-look PVC – and enable a respectable 30 miles of driving before requiring a recharge.

A mechanical tour of the miniature Land Rover makes me love it even more. The removable steering wheel (which worryingly seems to be pretty much the same size as my Lightweight’s actual steering wheel) is from a go-cart and is welded to a socket, on the end of a socket extension rod, which acts as the steering column.

“Because I had to cut down the front of the scooter to make it the right size, there was nothing to stop the wheels, which just kept going when you turned the car, so I got my brother to weld on a couple more socket extension rods to fix that,” Atilla explains. “I’m destroying my whole toolbox making this car!” he adds, with a chuckle. The attention to detail is amazing. It has a little dashboard with a key-socket, speed controls, a light switch and a recharging socket, all perfectly fitted. A bundle of wires protrudes out the front, most yet to be connected. The rear lights, also taken from the mobility scooter, are already fitted, alongside a cute dinosaur sticker.

Who knew that the rear lights on these mobility scooters look like almost perfect reproduction miniature Land Rover lights?

Attila is a long-standing Land Rover enthusiast (apparently the Lightweight is his favourite model, so he has good taste) and was determined to make a perfect replica. He even measured the exact distance between the wheels, doors and front and rear of an actual Series Land Rover before doing the maths to ensure the proportions of the miniature version replicate the exact specifications of a real one.

The bodywork is executed in plywood which has been painted in bright pillar-box red gloss paint, which is completely charming, and the bonnet side panels are coated with a thin version of checker-plating. As yet, it has no bonnet, no front grill and no front lights but it’s well into the final stages of completion.

The customised miniature Land Rover has taken a brilliant imagination, a month of dedicated free time and £500 to make, still a fraction of the cost of an official one. And I would say that Ruairi is one lucky child.

Thom Westcott is a British freelance journalist who has written for the Times and Guardian, and now mostly spends her time reporting from Libya.