My Granddad, John Norcross (Pictured) after joining me on a drive down the M6, From Northumberland. I'm sure he wouldn't have been able to stand a long journey but for the comfort of the old Turbo, Which quietly and smoothly took us there and back again during a short weekend break away. This car, Called "Boris" -Is the first car I've owned that has had a given name.. That is, If you don't count several of the unkind ones that my 1980 Spitfire (1st Car) was occasionally given.. Such as that one time on my 25th Birthday when the engine spectacularly decided to explode as I was cruising through the Lake District, Also on the M6 and 100 miles from my home, Leaving me in darkness as I waited for emergency recovery... I digress, "Boris", So called because in his history file there was included a few drawings with this name attached from one of the former keeper's children. Boris has remained with me for some years now and become a part of our family. For a car that is a year older than me, Boris has been reliable, dependable car with a lot of character. He also hasn't blown-up on a long drive for which I'm very grateful as I'd imagine a 6.75L V8 would be a much more expensive heart transplant than the 1500 MG Midget engine that I'd eventually found for my Triumph Satan.