I don’t name my cars. Eric was named by my mother. Eric was dependable (as long as you didn’t mind putting the wheels back on every 18 months or so) slow, and plodding. He had a large luggage space and a towbar, ran on diesel, and had electric nothing. Apart from lights, obviously. He also had a few varieties of mould growing in the carpets and headlining. He spent 4 years with me, saw a few girlfriends come and go, and was even implicated in some of these partings. Finally, I decided it was time I moved on. I bought a cinquecento.

I did this for the following reasons

1) a cinquecento is tiny, therefore fun
2) a cinquecento is tiny, therefore easy to park in my overcrowded street
3) a cinquecento has a roof, therefore is better than a spitfire in the rain
4) it had a CD-changer which would go nicely in the spitfire.

I also figured it should be a zero-balance transaction as I can sell the ford for roughly what the cinq cost. It didn’t work out that way - in fact lots of stuff this year hasn’t worked out like I expected - but now I have a spitfire all set to go into winter storage, and a cinquecento that, despite hundreds being recently spent on it, has decided not to play any more. I just looked at where I’m going to have to get my hand to tighten the alternator belt.

I want eric back!!