Bittersweet
A good car oughtn't break the heart or the wallet. But a charming one might.
I was talking to a lady the other day about the crochet she had done, and she was telling me - hang on, no, I might have got something wrong there.
Actually, I think we might have been talking about the cars she’d owned throughout her lifetime. Anyway, seeing as this lady was not particularly motoring-inclined, she could only really remember one of the cars she’d had. It was Alfa Sud. And the only reason she could remember it is because it was an Alfa Dud.
Apparently, it was an electrical nightmare, as the Alfa Sud was, and as she was cataloguing the many times it had inconvenienced her, and how hateful it was, I sort of got the impression that actually, it was the only car she had allowed herself to love.
She now owned a Corolla, and was, of course, more than pleased with it. It didn’t die every three minutes, and it was comfortable and the heater didn’t catch fire. But she didn’t really want to talk about it.
Now, I’m not going to get all emotional here like Masterchef contenders when the judges have decided after much sweat and tears and ad breaks that their quinoa dessert wasn’t too bad, but I do just want to mention that most people, when asked, will name their favourite car as the one they had the most adventures in. And that's not necessarily the one they had when they were twenty-two and stupid. I was speaking to an older chap who was telling me rather happily about a lovely British car he’d had when he was about forty, which broke a king pin going down a steep hill with the family on board.
On dog training"It's like a dog that soils the carpet every five minutes"
And the adventure, half the time, doesn’t involve motoring along the Great Ocean Road. It usually involves very inconvenient situations, such as a head gasket blowing in the midst of the wilderness, or a wheel coming off on a motorway. All things that you’d absolutely hate to happen to you, which is why you try to buy a car that won’t actively seek such pleasures.
Of course, the enjoyment is done with hindsight. Like when you laugh about Nana bringing out the wooden spoon. At the time it wasn’t all that funny. All the same though, it was an adventure. Being chased round the lounge room and all.
It isn’t just that, though. A fellow mentioned he’d once bought a Holden Camira, and because it was a Holden Camira, he had suffered terribly for his folly. But it hadn’t been an adventure. It had just been a blasted pain all along. Which it would have been, because there is absolutely nothing to love about the Holden Camira. It’s like a dog that soils the carpet every five minutes – the trouble is, it’s ugly too.
Whereas the Alfa Sud had a lot of charm. All Alfas do. Same with the Triumph Stag – a terrible, terrible British car that would, in theory, make you want to put a wellington through a rusting panel. In practice, however, the panel is polished till it falls off, and another sourced at great expense.
Which reminds me of what Oscar Wilde said. "It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious." – which is completely wrong of course, because Hitler’s worst fault wasn’t that he was tedious.
But mangle it a little. It’s absurd to divide cars into good and bad. Cars are either charming or tedious.
Because that makes a good little car, like the Corolla, tedious. And a bad little one, like the Sud, charming. And that need be as far as the comparison goes.
Photo credit: netcarshow.com
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Comments (13)
Having had the pleasure of driving the current Corolla, I would certainly not describe it as tedious (even if the external styling does little for me) - it made driving fun again! In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I discontinued hiring from a certain local outlet who failed to provide me with the requested "Toyota Corolla or equivalent" and instead downgraded me somewhat shockingly, and repeatedly, to a very inequivalent Kia Rio (I could have almost forgiven them if they'd done it once).
Now the Kia Rio was a car that was tedious, very tedious, and I knew it before I had even driven into the next street and was overcome by so much road and engine noise that although I was certain I must be approaching the speed limit of 60km/h, even though the speedometer informed me I had yet to reach 40km/h - I knew it was going to be a long day, but I still wasn't quite prepared for the fatigue inflicted by hours of exposure to such intrusive road and engine noise that no motorist should have had to endure since Suzuki replaced the LJ80V with the much more refined Sierra in 1981.
I digress, the Rio was a car so tedious that you might think (and even hope) that I wouldn't really want to talk about it. It was so tedious in fact that I feel I almost have a moral obligation to tell of my experiences at least to warn others away from such a vehicle, and from such unscrupulous rental outlets who attempt to substitute such a vehicle in some delusion that it is in any way "equivalent" to the client's requested Toyota Corolla. While I'd really like to just forget the whole unpleasant experience, the things are all over the place reminding me of those horrible hours that made a day trip feel like at least a week behind the wheel - I can't believe people actually part with their hard earned dollars for such a vehicle, and can only conclude that those dollars wasted must therefore not really be hard earned.
Ah the Alfasud the car that started my Alfa Romeo romance (drivetribe.com/p/my-alfa-life-part-1-NUaLs79sTXOMvbRsSUywdw?iid=Y7URGdy2SH6xtoQvq8_k9Q).
Even with all of the problems with the body, and the fact that the brakes were a pain to work on, I'd still have one if I had somewhere to keep it out of the rain. It would only come out on warm sunny days but would still turn heads with the sound of that lovely flat 4 engine.
Owned one, white 1350, bought new in 1978, loved it for its steering, only bettered by my newly acquired Porsche 996.2 C2, and it's handling, which was brilliant. Needed a new cylinder head under warranty for a loud tappety noise that they could never find a cause for but which fixed it. And sold it after 2 years because I was going overseas, so no rust and almost got my money back, such was the bizarre car market of the 70s in New Zealand. Haven't risked another Alfa since though, much to my loss I suspect.
Yes, I think a Porsche 996 is a much safer option...
LOL, not sure about that... IMS? Mine's been replaced this week, so peace of mind ☺️
Great and amusing read, as usual.
I wonder if you may have been discussing the "Crochet" the lady had done, or the "Croquet" the lady had been playing. Both different, but similar in that I couldn't see you talking about either of them. Well, maybe the croquet, as it is a proper English sport of a proper English gentleman, and you are after all, though not English, are a proper gentleman in the line of a proper English gentleman. Sometimes. Of course, you could also try talking about "Croquettes", a nice food substance mostly containing meat, and as far as I know, no chick peas. You might like to talk about that with a certain lady sometime (your mother). Anyway, I'll stop now.
Ooh, yes, should fix that. Anyway, it doesn't matter, it could have been cricket for all that - 'cause it didn't get a mention. Or perhaps I was asleep when it did.
Very entertaining read as is the norm. Crocheting while driving, now there's a story! I think you're right, it's the cars that you stick with despite its faults that you remember the most. Luxury and expensive cars may hold bragging rights but my Ford capri was the one I yearned for. Bought and tended to for waaaaay to long. Keep it up
Thanks! Yes, I have seen some people get a bit teary-eyed at selling something which ought to have gone long ago, in one way or another. Maybe it's a form of Stockholm Syndrome.
Haha