Nick Larkin
Nick’s chatty Rover has concerns about the future
Nick’s talking 216 has her say.
An article that’s actually been written by a car? Yup, another first for Practical Classics. My name is Maureen and I am an L-reg 1994 Rover 216Gsi. Talking cars like some early Maestros or KITT out of Knight Rider are passé. I’m a writing car. I’ve been in in these pages before, when I took part in a PC Winter Warmers adventure feature, and when my custodian Mr Larkin brought me along to this magazine’s 40th birthday gathering last year.
Larkin is currently enjoying a three-week socially distanced holiday in the Seychelles surrounded by maidens and Hillman Minx export models, so I have been asked to fill in by putting together his column this month. I was previously in the hands of regular PC contributor Richard Gunn, whose profound journalistic calibre has rubbed off on me.
I graduated from a few swear words to writing a reasonable article or two. But why did editor Danny reject my review of the Vauxhall Astra MKIII as being ‘one-sided and full of unnecessary vitriol.’ I’ve never asked for much in my 27 years of life and
‘Will future fuel stations dispense only sandwiches and electricity?’
Nick Larkin has appeared in many classic car (and a few bus) publications since 1989. He joined Practical Classics in 1996, and remains a regular contributor.
73,000 miles, just oil, fuel, servicing, tyres and an occasional pat on my increasingly faded bonnet. Alright, and a bit of welding, too.
My combination of Honda engine and automatic gearbox have served me extremely well.
Everyone who has driven me seems surprised at my acceleration qualities – and working sunroof.
Larkin freely admits I have been his saviour during lockdown, particularly while his Rover 75 (with its Bmw-sourced engine – pah!) has been off the road.
Who are you calling a tatty relic?
The other day I found myself pressed into action at 6am, which I did think was a tad early for a trip to Morrisons. Three hours later we were in North Yorkshire to take photos for a feature.
People are now beginning to notice me in a ‘haven’t seen one of those in a while’ sort of way. (I’d start signing autographs if my lack of thumbs wasn’t such an issue.) So why is it that middle-aged cars like myself are increasingly thought of by authorities as tatty, polluting relics that should be removed from the roads as soon as possible, while not much older cars get loads of concessions?
A recent campaign to exempt owners of pre-1991 classics from having to pay for road tax resulted in a petition being thrown out by the Government, so what hope is there for me?
I think the concession should be extended to all Austin and MG Rover products. How would this be paid for? Double the rate for Fords of course!
I’m also being banned from certain city centres, but do they honestly think I would want to make a miserable trip along the M4 past Swindon for the thrill of an afternoon in Bristol?
The future looks… uncertain
MOT stations have surely been briefed to get older cars like myself off the road. I had my last annual medical (excuse me while I cough) at a stringent but fair classic-friendly garage, but a previous inspectorate appeared to drag every mechanic over and probably rang up half a dozen retired ones to find something wrong. How they did the emissions check was very painful, believe me.
Not only is there a danger of ethanol added fuel gnawing at my innards, but if they really are going to ban the sale of petrol cars as intended, will the time come when fuel stations will only dispense awful sandwiches and electric charging?
Will classic owners have to order petrol in large and extremely expensive cans, just like at the dawn of motoring? Or maybe a synthetic fuel will become available. Please, start thinking about the future, but let’s get through 2021 first – a year in which, with everything going on at the moment, a writing car hardly seems very ludicrous.