First of all, the Mazda was my first car. Not officially, because it was the car my elder brother got when he learned to drive. And it was registered on my father's name. But the day I was allowed to drive a car, the Mazda belonged to me instantly. I just usurped it.
I was 17 years old and my friends and I lived at the Austrian country side, where you can not get out of your village, if there is not some kind of engine involved in your way of moving around. And finally, I was the one in control of a freedom serving motorized vehicle. And so I did all the driving all the time when my friends and I thought we needed to get somewhere. The Mazda was the one used for every stupid idea we had. And despite that, I never crashed it.
Well... I reversed into a tree, slightly, while trying to do a three-point-turn in the middle of a very muddy forest, which was so very muddy indeed, that we could not go any further. And there was this evening when somebody, drunk, smashed my tape deck with his foot, because he did not know that there was a trick involved with inserting a tape successfully.
Sometimes my best friend and I drove through fields and meadows, cheering out of the window. We had such a great time. And she tended to leave her garbage in my passenger door tray. A lot of it. But beside that, all was constantly fine.
All was fine... except the speed
The Mazda had a 1.8 l non-turbo diesel engine that could squeeze out 44 kW (60 hp) and came with no extras at all. But it was my life and joy saving friend with a rear spoiler above the back window!
The stereo was quite okay-ish, once I replaced the broken tape deck with a CD player. Any technical issues were miraculously self-mending . I was never fast but always laughing. And I called the car Ludwig Vegas, for reasons swept under the carpet a long time ago.
Enough car for being happy
Ludwig was such a brave little fella, that I never thought about any other car. I cannot remember how uncomfortable the seats were or how cheap the switches felt. Both very much I guess. But it was all I knew and I was not very interested in cars anyway. I was a confused teenager still, and with the ends of my front and rear bumper, also my interest in cars ended. But it was good. Ludwig was all that I thought I would need.
One day, I moved out from my parents house, 650 miles away to Cologne. And I left Ludwig behind. Some time went by and I learned to live in the city and that I do not need a car anymore obviously, At least that was what I thought until my father offered me, to pick Ludwig up from their home and take him with me. So I did, and it was one hell of a drive. It really was hell. Ludwig was not built to serve comfort on long distance rides.
In his city life, he lost one of his door mirrors several times over night but suffered no further injuries. The only problem: corrosion was nibbling on him and repairs would have been necessary. As a result my father, who still was in charge, said: SELL.
I took pictures the last time and set up the advert. Our last journey before I found somebody who was interested to buy him, was a little bit further. On our way home I got carried away a bit. We were blasting along the Autobahn with about 100 mph (downhill of course), chasing some friends for fun. It felt like 3000 mph. He just was not built for that. It was frightening and so much fun and a proper farewell adventure.
Several days after the last journey with Ludwig, Mr. Moonking (that was the buyer's name if translated from whatever language they speak in Sri Lanka) showed up to take the car away. The man had a cousin in Paris who's car got lost during riots in the city. Ludwig should become the replacement car. I was even a bit proud that Ludwig would make it into another country at least and would look forward to an exciting new life. I handed over the keys and this was it. I sold a car for the first time. Interesting.