THOM WESTCOTT

I’M driving my mum’s little Yaris through Devonian country lanes to see my revamped Lightweight, and my stomach is doing somersaults. It’s been years since I had any serious bodywork done on the Land Rover and, last time, the collection process did not go well. I was disappointed and the mechanic disheartened. At least these days I have the forethought to explain to anyone undertaking work on my ageing collection of modes of transportation – Land Rover, bicycle and boat – that I love them just as they are. While I need them to be repaired, and made structurally sound and road/sea-worthy, I still want them to look exactly the same.

I pull into the forecourt of Dave’s garage, inhale deeply and walk down towards the Lightweight. It looks reassuringly the same but noticeably tidier, with its fabulous new door tops.

Dave has the engine running and the bonnet open. He leads a tour inside with an inspection lamp and I am blown away. The custom-made replacement vent panel is amazing – painted an almost identical shade of mustard as its predecessor – and looks incredibly thin and neat compared to the horrific rusting swell that I have been watching rot and expand at an alarming rate over the last few years.

The driver’s footwell is stunning; rock-solid with its fresh paintwork making the pedals look distinctly shabby. The passenger footwell has also been repainted and new bullhead hinge panels fitted both sides. Dave shows me preserved sections of one of these which, worryingly, appeared to be about 70 per cent filler. Matt black, it transpires, really can hide a multitude of sins.

He talks me through the engine work – including new core plugs and repairing damage inflicted by some reckless previous mechanic using metric bolts instead of imperial, and a full service. What is most impressive is how much care has gone into the work. I can honestly say the engine has not looked this neat and nice in my 15 year ownership of the Lightweight. Even the Medusa-like assortment of wires have been tidied up and the back of the engine has been painted up.

The joke of the day is the under-bonnet toolbox I had bought from ebay, which appears to have been made in miniature, prompting me to ask: “What on earth is that?” I should have guessed something was afoot when Dave phoned to ask where exactly I wanted it. The images of other Lightweights kitted out with this comely and handy addition I had emailed over must have been perplexing, as this box was approximately one-fifth the size. I cannot imagine what single useful tool this absurd-sized box could hold.

“At least it’s the right colour,” Dave comments, adding that, if I don’t like it, they can remove it. A quick later review of the purchase reveals my error. I had been ‘watching’ several different toolboxes and somehow bought the wrong one – not an under-bonnet tool box at all, but rather a wing-top box.

So much time and effort has gone into the Lightweight that it feels weird not to have met the man behind most of the bodywork, the ‘Mysterious Matt’, so I ask Dave to ask if he’d consider stopping by the garage the following day.

Mysterious Matt is just great, a down-toearth fellow Lightweight owner, who talks me through everything he’s done, including various little additions designed to make the future of my Land Rover a little smoother.

These include additional panels under the bonnet to stop crap from being thrown up from the road into those annoying corner sections which amass muck and damp and seem to be a breeding ground for rust that steadily rots through into the footwells. Another clever addition is two bolts each side to enable any water and other sediment to be able to drain away rather than gradually eat through the metal.

So much work has been done, it’s impossible to detail and my two-page list of jobs has not only been completed, but exceeded.

There are still future tasks to be done, of course. Notably a gammy carburettor, which needs either a good clean or replacement, and much of the paintwork remains in a sorry state. But, thanks to a serious amount of top-notch dedication, my Lightweight is now, finally, both mechanically and structurally sound.

With England’s second lockdown looming, what better test drive could there be than to motor the Lightweight back to London? I set off in the pouring rain and, “through rain and wind and weather, hellbent for leather” (with one stop to grab a cheese and onion pasty), motor on up the A38, A30, A303, M3, M25.

The Lightweight runs like an absolute dream. In fact, I cannot remember the last time the engine sounded and felt this good. It still runs hot but does not overheat, and I manage to do an impressive amount of overtaking. Even fuel consumption is a record win, using one whole tank. The only problems I experience are having to repeatedly adjust the driver’s wing mirror (which needs either tightening or replacing) and then self-navigate the last hour of the journey, after the sat-nav gave up the ghost.

There’s no doubt in my mind, Devon mechanics are the best, so a well-deserved shout out to DJW Cars and the Mysterious Matt. I arrive home in just over four hours – record time for my Land Rover – with aching shoulders (I’m out of practice!) but ecstatically happy.

“So much work has been done, it’s impossible to detail and my two-page list of jobs has not only been completed, but exceeded”