Second Life

What compels us to do this?  To drag rusting hulks of metal out of the bushes and spend more money that they're worth on restoring them, in order to create a constant drain on our finances and our free time, and invoke the never-ending worry about where we've parked them, whether they're going to break or rust away or get crashed?  

Because....

... because it's beautiful.  It's attention-seeking, it's high maintenance, it's unreliable (probably) but I can't stop looking at it, and I can't stop smiling when I'm driving it.  

So what's it like to drive?  

It's solid.  It doesn't rattle or shake - it feels planted and predictable and safe.  The steering isn't go-kart like - it doesn't have the feedback of a true sports car; but it's progressive and after a few miles you just start to trust that it's going to do what you command, and it doesn't fail you.  The brakes are still bedding in - they feel soft at first, but they work well.  It's quiet in overdrive at 75mph, but when climbing above 3,500rpm in third, the exhaust gives a lovely rasp and the engine growls.  What impressed me most on the 200 mile drive home, which took in a mixture of high speed motorways and twisty Peak District passes, is that this car was built in 1961. It just feels much more modern.  I can completely understand why the reviews of the day called it a Grand Tourer - you really could conceivable get in this car and drive across a country, and not feel too shaken up at the other end.  

There will be niggles in the first few hundred miles after a 40+ year "rest" and a complete dis-assembly and rebuild.  In fact, we're already discovered some of them - a bad earth on the alternator left me feeling a bit flat, and there is something loose behind the radio.  Oh and a spring on the boot lid broke.  But all in all - considering the extend of the rebuild and the age of the car, I'm amazed.  It goes, stops, sounds great, and as for the looks ... well, judge for yourself.  

And that brings me to the reactions of people who encounter the car.  I've driven some pretty special cars, but nothing - absolutely nothing - has provoked the reactions that this car has.  

My favourite so far was the guy who told his wife:  "THAT.... IS.................THAT.... IS................. THAT....IS........."

He couldn't find the words.  Kids on bikes stop to ask what it is.  I've lost count of the number of people I've heard (or seen mouth) "The Saint" as I drive along a High St.  

So is the pain worth the pleasure?  I hope so.  There will be skinned knuckles and swearing when it goes wrong and I can't fix it.  There will be garage bills and annoying parking dings and my wife will notice the oil on the driveway.  But one look at that shape glinting in the sunshine when we've parked for lunch outside our favourite cafe - a flick of the overdrive switch as we settle into a rhythm on a long curvy A-road - the warm glow from those amazing 1950's style dashboard gauges on a night-time cross country drive - and it all feels worth it.