Notes From the Hard Shoulder - James May [43]
Elsewhere, the rear-view mirror fell off on a lefthander and hit me in the face, and my mobile phone disappeared down one of those crannies 'twixt seat and console designed to admit a mobile phone but not an adult hand. Remarkably, they knew how to do this even in 1975. And under the passenger seat of every car there is, somewhere on the seat-sliding mechanism, a huge blob of thick and filthy grease. This is found on brand-new cars and I can now confirm that it's still there 30 years later, awaiting the moment when someone has to retrieve his wallet after a track day.
Few things in life are more futile than a track day. It is an affront to the liberty and independence offered by the car – not to mention the awesome achievements of the world's tireless road-builders – to wantonly drive in such a way that you will, inevitably, end up exactly where you started one minute thirty-nine point two five seconds later and needing some new tyres.
Or, worse, wedged between some old ones and needing a whole new car.
CLASSIC CARS – YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
The world is full of misty-eyed optimists. If it wasn't, there wouldn't be a classic car scene. As it is, there is a very big one, and a whole rack of WH Smith's devoted to throwing away money that could have been spent on something useful, such as a new car.
Don't get me wrong – I love old cars. They're fascinating, they're great material for pub debates, and they're endlessly amusing. But I am a man who has gone carpetless for love, while other people imagine they can enter lightly into a relationship with an old car without realising that these things are the Heather Mills of motoring.
Every now and then I receive a letter from a reader or viewer who is interested in buying a classic car and is seeking advice. There has also been a rash of articles in the motoring press recently, headbanging that old chestnut about buying a supercar for Mondeo money, which is becoming so fatuous that it's high time somebody pointed out what a nice Mondeo you could buy with all the money you'd lose on that Jensen Interceptor. Finally, it's almost summer, when people forget the horrors of poor demisting, sticky heater valves and damp starting, and imagine that a Maserati Bora can not only recapture a glorious age of driving freedom but can even be used outdoors.
So here, finally, are the basics: the definitive cut-out-'n'-keep guide to old-car ownership, an executive summary of pending woe that the eternally hopeful can keep in the glovebox. But not the glovebox of a '60s Alfa Spider, because it will go soggy.
Is it vital that you complete your journey?
If so, you need to think about alternative transport arrangements. The most popular solution is something known as a 'modern car'.
Old cars are old
I bought my Bentley T2 with the attitude: 'It may be old, but it's still a Bentley.' The truth is more like: 'It may be a Bentley, but it's still old.' Even the most exotic car is still made from car-making materials, and they wear out. I'm guessing that you no longer use any 30-year-old electro-mechanical devices around the home, and that they probably went in the bin during the '80s. How could anyone expect something built by Fiat in the '70s to still work properly? This is why the expression 'good condition for year' is so meaningless in classic car small ads. If the car in question is something like a Datsun 120Y, then the very fact that it hasn't been scrapped means it's in good condition for the year.
Old cars aren't very good
If they were, they would still be in production. Wonky handling, cussed carburettors and poor fuel consumption are not the real issues here, it's the little things that you hadn't realised were so good on your 2002 Ford Focus – the power of the