Wheels meant freedom – but not necessarily ‘cool’
AN advert for a car on eBay brought back some painful memories for my teenage self this week. And it was something no 18-year-old wants to experience. The advert was for a 1984 Skoda Super Estelle 120.
But there was nothing ‘super’ about the Skoda 120 I can tell you, apart for the freedom it offered.
I was still 17 when I passed my test and my mum kindly said I could drive her car until I could afford my own.
Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth now, it’s wheels for goodness sake!
For example, when I was 16, my mum let me ride her 50cc Honda Melody scooter, I didn’t care, I was free!
So what if the Skoda Super Estelle was the uncoolest car on the road, ridiculed by one and all with its 50 horse power engine in the rear.
I was the first of our group to drive, so we all bundled in mum’s pride and joy and went cruising around the streets, looking cool blaring out the Prodigy from the tinny stereo.
Driving also meant girls became more interested in you, as you could replace their dads as a taxi.
They too didn’t care about the badge, it was purely about the wheels, man!
Picture the scene: curtains haircut, black shell-suit with pink and purple relief driving a bright red Skoda Super Estelle 120 with a jet-black vinyl roof which was slightly sun-bleached.
I wanted to impress a girl, so I am breaking the 50mph speed limit – doing all of 55. I see a clapped out old Mini ahead, I plan my uber-cool overtaking move.
We are now parallel, I look over, and it’s a slightly older guy, also with a girl next to him.
Man, I’m looking so cool right now.
The flat road turns hilly, the Skoda runs out of power on the wrong side of the road as the Mini powers away, I am forced to swerve to avoid colliding with a bus.
The girl gets out of the car in tears, thinking her life was about to end either in the passenger seat of a Skoda or in the corridor of a double decker bus.
I never see her again.
I buy a Ford Escort.