The Lincoln Vintage Vehicle Society

Whilst travelling the country to acquire even more Vintage Things, I was passing by Lincoln and had time to stop at the pioneering transport museum. Many years ago, when I was but a lad, I received a Blandford book of buses as a Christmas present and it contained illustrations of several vehicles owned or preserved by members of the Lincoln Vintage Vehicle Society. I read this tome frequently - well, looking at the colour pictures was more like it - and it seemed to me that something special was happening up at Lincoln. The Lincoln Vintage Vehicle Society, or LVVS, had a special aura about it. It was the benchmark for other enthusiasts whose enthusiasm also got the better of them. From what I could make out, nearly everyone in Lincoln had a Leyland Lion parked beside their bungalow or a Guy Arab in pieces.

Over the years, those self same vehicles occasionally popped up on my radar to reinforce the pioneering status of the LVVS. Visiting the LVVS museum was something of a pilgrimage and I was at last able to see the work of this happy band of preservationists for myself in a snug modern building on the outskirts of the city.

The weather outside was terrible but in this waterproof shed were many old friends that had been plucked from under the cutting torch at the eleventh hour when they could have been lost for ever. That was the kind of last minute heroics the LVVS went in for. There wasn't much space between the items in the collection but this gave the sense that they'd been squeezed into all the available space. And as the rain drummed on the roof, they all felt very safe and sounds and smelt wonderful of grease, oil and paint.

Phrases like "in preservation", "preserved" and "rescued for preservation" ran throughout the Blandford book of buses and my youthful mind conjured up members of the LVVS throwing themselves in front of slavering scrap men. Preservation sounded like a sanctuary for worthy things. But not every worthy thing lasted long enough to be appreciated before those slavering scrapmen - today we call them recyclers - did their dirty work.

The Lincoln Vintage Vehicle Society was founded back in 1959 as a small network of like-minded enthusiasts who wanted to save some of the old buses that at the time were coming to the end of their working lives. They had a little money and a certain amount of space but tremendous enthusiasm for the vehicles of yesteryear. It was their enthusiasm that outweighed the problems. It wasn't a question of value, either. These old wrecks were worth nothing but scrap value and were not yet curiosities. The members of the LVVS simply liked these old buses and coaches so much that they couldn't bear to see them disappear. To most of their contemporaries they must have seemed quite mad. Nowadays this sort of behaviour is almost acceptable and the vehicle preservation is big business but back then it was just inexplicable, laughable almost.

The LVVS were doing something new. Saving old cars had already become socially acceptable. The film "Genevieve" went a long way to achieving this. During the fifties steam railways like the Festiniog and the Talyllyn were being preserved and by the sixties no-one seemed to question this (not that it stopped Dr Beeching axing all those branch lines). By this time, traction engines were rarely scrapped and rallies where they could be enjoyed were rapidly growing popularity. But clapped out commercial vehicles and old buses were just old scrap - weren't they?

Not to people like Vincent LeTall, Sid Twell or Bryan Challand they weren't. Individually they might not be able to buy an old bus and get it home but together they pooled their resources and managed to get them working again.

Bearing in mind what buses were available back then it must have been like having the keys to the sweet shop.

The LVVS quickly set the standard for renovation with its first restoration and continued to raise the bar with every subsequent one. High quality cosmetic states weren't enough, The old buses had to go, too.

The earliest members thought big right from the start. It wasn't just the size of what they chose to restore - it was the scope of what they set out to achieve. They wanted a museum to put all their Vintage Things in and after 3 or 4 years had a three acre site including dry storage. One old bus, an ex-Lincoln Corporation Leyland Lion that had been rescued from Jersey, of all places, was dry stored for 25 years until it was restored as part of an apprentice training scheme. Their attitude was very much save it now, store it and look after it somehow until eventually we'll get around to finishing it.

That's exactly my approach!

Vincent Le Tall also collected Austin motor cars and his collection formed the nucleus for a car collection that's still growing and includes a 1936 18, a 1928 10/4 and 1934 16 Berkeley saloon that once ferried Wilfred Pickles to and from his hotel in the Lake District.

My favourite, though, is this 1937 Ford V8 shooting brake that had originally been owned by the Countess of Yarborough as an estate car on her, er, estate. Obviously a discerning lady, she wondered what to do with this old car when it got a bit long in the gear tooth and decided the LVVS were the ones who could bring it back to life, which they did - eventually. It took them the best part of 35 years to get around to it but a single individual working alone would probably have lost interest in the project long ago and scrapped it. Thanks to the LVVS members, it eventually received the skilled treatment it deserved.

Regular readers will know I have a lot of time for Ford flathead V8s but this woody is a peach. The bodywork is handbuilt and fortunately was in good condition. Rust of the steel body panels was more of a problem so the body had to come off the chassis - welding and wooden structural members don't mix. As usual with LVVS projects, the result was well worth it.

It wasn't long before other items for the collection began presenting themselves to the LVVS and some of them were in very good condition.

Car collecting is not the same as preservation. Car collecting is trendier. You don't actually preserve anything with car collecting, just buy one already done up and brag to your mates down the pub about how much it's appreciating in value. Often, if any money needs spending on it, the Vintage Thing gets moved on quickly. How many times have you heard people say "I couldn't justify the expense"? This behaviour seems to be socially acceptable.

But if you quietly take something apart and begin to restore it often people complain. It is apparently socially unacceptable and can result in the Vintage Thing itself being scrapped despite the initial best intentions of the owner and enthusiast. But thanks to organisations like the LVVS, the benefits of this initially aberrant behaviour are gradually being realised.

Car restoration is quite different from merely car collecting and much more time consuming. Actually bringing some old piece of machinery back from the dead is far more rewarding although not in monetary terms (not something many car collectors understand). The LVVS members might not have been able to justify the expense either under severe cross examination but that never stopped them.

But commercial vehicle collecting is even trickier. Once you've got them, they're so much bigger and require special skills.

In one corner of the shed was an Albion HD55 6x4 lorry that had been operated by Smiths Crisps. The LVVS is currently re-panelling the box van body with the help of someone who served his apprenticeship doing this sort of thing. He'd done a wonderful job and it seems almost a shame to paint over the shiny fresh aluminium panels. I just hope he can teach someone else to do this because that sort of apprenticeship simply isn't happening anymore.

Some of the trucks from the early thirties had massive petrol engines instead of the big loyal diesels commercial vehicles have today. This 5-litre straight six powered a Leyland fire escape. I was expecting it to be a sidevalve but it's actually overhead valve and it's rated at only 33 horsepower although I reckon this is the RAC rating. This fire engine would do 55 mph despite weighing nine and a half tons. Petrol consumption was 6mpg. I can't help wonder what this engine could do in a contemporary sports car chassis. Maybe someone in the VSCC could try this?

I also liked the AEC Monarch tipper truck in the livery of Bracebridge Mental Hospital. It wasn't actually used for carting loonies around - it was for the coal used to heat the hospital - but I understand that some people have raised objections to this truck appearing in its original livery.

One old bus, this Bristol K5G, had been driven around the world during the early seventies by a group of students in a real life adventure inspired by Cliff Richard and The Shadows. Not wishing to see it scrapped as they became more sensible and settled own to less hedonistic life-style, they presented it to the LVVS who restored it to full working order.

I got talking to the lady behind the desk and she said they use the old buses on services through the city of Lincoln when they have open days in November and at Easter when the workshops to the museum are also open. (Now that would be interesting.) On that day, they will have 25-30 vintage buses in operation around Lincoln. Cornwall's a bit far but I admit I'm tempted. I didn't see anything of the city itself and to see it from the top deck of a globe trotting bus probably can't be beaten.

My favourite bus was the Guy Arab fitted with a Ruston & Hornsby six cylinder air-cooled engine. I'd heard about this machine some time ago. Instead of an elegant Guy radiator, complete with "Feathers in our cap" radiator cap, it had a curious snout made up of louvres. Ruston & Hornsby engines were made in Lincoln and it seemed sensible to Lincoln City Transport to try some one the local products in one of their buses. The result had startling performance for its day but was incredibly noisy. They were popular for their speed and waiting passengers often knew the bus was coming because it was so much noisier than the water cooled variety. Downstairs the bus conductors had to mime. Fortunately, the LVVS adopted this historic machine and stocked up on ear plugs. Deutz engines are air cooled and have a very good reputation. There seems to have been a lost opportunity for Rustons here who were one of the few traction engine manufacturers to adapt to the internal combustion engine. Just think what might have been achieved if they'd developed this idea further.

The LVVS made the headlines in 2007 when they bought an Allegro for 1500 quid. The media latched on to what they called "Allegromania" and adversely criticised the LVVS for alledgedly wasting money but in view of the numbers destroyed on Top Gear it's probably more historic than ever. And it was LVVS money so none of The Sun's business. I've said it before and I'll say it again (Vintage Thing No.23) - the Allegro is a much maligned car so I was surprised but pleased to see one here in Lincoln. What do the media know, anyway? It was also in very good condition.

The lady behind the desk told me that membership is falling gradually and there are some long term concerns that not enough youngsters are coming forward to learn the skills necessary to keep these Vintage Things going. I suppose there generally are less youngsters in our aging population but I would love to know how to panel a commercial vehicle as beautifully as that Albion. The LVVS are not just coachbuilders - they seem to be able to do anything between them.

So what was the vehicle that I would like to take home with me most of all? That Ford V8 woody. I told them so, too, but they said I couldn't have it. I don't mind. I reckon it's in better hands.

Vintage Thing No.48 - the Allegro All-Ego

It was while surfing for information about 1750 cc Allegros in connection with my recent post about the Austin Allegro Equipe and I discovered the Allegro All-Ego. I don't have a television and I don't read The Sun newspaper so the exploits of the All-Ego had passed me by. It seems to have gathered a certain amount of notoriety in its short life for it recently went to auction and realised a heady £5500 on 29th October, 2008.

And having posted about it fleetingly on the Engine Punk Litmus blog (for I reckon it demonstrates hands on rolling sculpture better than anything), I feel sufficiently well-disposed towards it to claim it as a Vintage Thing.

The All-Ego was built from a 1977 1100 cc Austin Allegro by the legendary car customiser Andy Saunders. He accomplished this feat in three days in December 2006 for a television pilot programme called Juice My Lemon, described by Saunders “as a cross between the American programme Pimp My Ride and The Benny Hill Show.”

As motoring lemons go, the Allegro could be the best. Or would that be the worst?

The result is very similar to something that I had once thought about. This idea had been provoked some years ago by the acquisition of a very rusty 1750 cc Allegro. This particular example was a four-door saloon with a single carburettor so not as desirable as the Austin Allegro Equipe that I featured recently on this blog.

In fact, the only thing to recommend this particular car was its 1750 cc engine which will ran quite well. The body was badly dented and the boot floor rotted out completely, since some hay bales had been left in it and they had decomposed entirely, taking the steel with them. When it came to collecting this Vintage Thinge, I hooked up some strops for my neighbour Andrew to tow the car onto his machinery trailer only for the rear towing eyes to pull off . In the end, we put the strop through the holes in the boot floor and dragged it onto the trailer that way.

Andy Saunders has beaten me to realising this idea. I first became aware of his work when he exhibited a severely chopped Mini at a classic car show held in the Cornish Coliseum at Carlyon Bay. He also showed a weird and wonderful creation based on a Citroen CX that looked like a manta ray (the fish not the Opel) swimming through the ocean.

He doesn't do any preparatory sketches, he just dives straight in and realises his ideas in 3-D. Most people who do that finish up binning the result but Andy’s certainly got a gift and must have made his metal work teacher ever so proud.

Andy has been dubbed an "automotive alchemist" for turning base things into gold and is featured on the Car Design News website.

Max Girardo, Managing Director of RM Auctions European Division, described Saunders' work as as rolling works of modern art, which is close to the rolling sculpture interpretation of Engine Punk. "It is drivable art in the truest sense", he added.

I'd like to know how Andy chopped the windscreen down. I know somebody in the Citroen Specials Club who achieved a similar effect with a laminated screen and a grinding disc. He said he covered himself in padding and wore a big pair of gloves and several pairs of safety goggles that simply applied the grinder to the glass. Instead of shattering as he expected, the windscreen proved surprisingly easy to cut down. I don't think this would work with toughened screens.

I once worked with someone who cut down laminated screens for coaches and he told me that he made the first cut -- which is Rod Stewart would tell you, is always the deepest – with a conventional glass cutter. Another cut would then follow it carefully in exactly the same place on the other side of the glass. The next stage involved pouring methylated spirits on the glass and setting fire to it. This had the effect of burning through the plastic inner layer. Bearing in mind the size of coach windscreens, I think there would have been awful lot of people involved in just holding the screen to work on it.

Or maybe this guy was just taking the piss.

The Allegro All-Ego is mounted on 17 inch alloy wheels with low profile 195/40 tyres. With so little sidewalls to flex on these tyres, the ride could be quite harsh but I imagine that, without the glass and the rear seat trim, the All-Ego is quite a bit lighter than the original saloon so this might not be a problem.

The auction description credits the 1100 cc A series engine with 80 brake horsepower, which seems optimistic, and a five-speed manual transmission, which sounds suspiciously unique. The only transverse five-speed A series powertrains lived in Austin Maestros following a deal with VW that allowed Austin Rover to at last provide a fifth gear for the smaller engines in its ranges.

The curved rear lights are from a Fiat and I think the colour scheme really suits the car. Apparently, another 150 hours were spent after the show was taped to finish the car off properly. This fits in with what I know about Andy Saunders who has the reputation of being something of a craftsman. I imagine he was happy to rise to the challenge of the show yet wouldn't want anything with his name behind it to go out onto the road without being properly sorted for the All-Ego is fully road legal. That is very interesting to me for presumably it didn’t need to go through an SVA test…

At £5500, this is probably the most expensive Allegro you will never see. Somebody, one day, might pay this amount for a concours standard Vanden Plas or even that Allegro Equipe that was on eBay earlier this month, once it's been fully restored.

The All-Ego is giving me ideas again. I still have that old 1750 Allegro in my little paddock, next to my garage block. The engine still turns over and -- whisper it -- I have acquired a spare cylinder head and twin carburettors for it, again through the good graces of eBay. I would have to weld up the boot floor before we could tow it out of my little paddock. And I don't think Andrew the tractor man would be interested in helping me get it out with one of his tractors after what happened last time. He hates this particular example although he views my white Allegro 1300 Super with a certain amount of wry detachment.

But once I get this old brown saloon into my workshop and fire up my MIG welder, who knows what the result might be? Andy Saunders – he would know.

Photos from Serious Wheels

Vintage Thing No.36 - the Honda CJ250T

It was during a rather ribald discussion with some of my motor cycling friends that the question arose -- what is the motorcycling equivalent of an Austin Allegro? My Austin Allegro is a particularly nice example but that doesn't stop them taking the piss out of it. I know that it is not one of the world's greatest cars and some people voted these chubby little cars the worst ones of all time but I like to point out that much of the Allegro's vital organs are shared with the Mini, which, at about the same time, was voted the greatest car of all time. It seems odd to me that two cars with the same engine, gearbox and the clutch from the same manufacturer, and with suspension systems that follow the same damperless and space saving concept, could be both the best and the worst between them.

But, as we say in Cornwall, "There it is and there you are." And as some deeply philosophical type might also say, "Less is more."

After a great deal of thought and many proposals that were discounted either straightaway or after robust cross examining, somebody suggested the Honda CJ250T. Nobody had anything positive to say about this bike and a few of us who had personal experience of one were quite happy to condemn it. The more we thought about it, the more it seemed that the Honda CJ250T was the Holy Grail in our rather pointless quest.

Back in the summer, I spotted this rather smart example at Boconnoc Steam Fair. At the time, I smiled upon it because so many of them were scrapped and even if it was not a great bike, seeing one after all this time brought back many happy yoof-ful memories. In the light of subsequent techological advancements (like reliability), they lost value quickly and their impecunious owners subjected them to unwarranted abuses as they learnt about mechanical sympathy.

Or didn't, as the case may be.

Many years ago, there used to be a delightfully subversive motorcycling magazine in Britain called the Used Bike Guide. The concept was delightfully simple. There were no adverts and no professional staff writers. All the articles were allegedly sent in by real-life owners of the bikes featured and I have no reason to doubt this claim. The only full-time members of staff behind what came to be known as the UBG were the editor and the mysterious and strangely alluring Typing Person who typed out the adverts at the back of the magazine having deciphered the oily scrawls of the advertisers. Against the odds, the Typing Person became a figure of romantic intrigue and there were many instances of almost personal messages appearing to her from motorcyclists the length and breadth of the country who appreciated her "services", prompting her to say that she wasn't that sort of girl. It was all quite innocent, and romantic in a hopeless kind of way. But the UBG was most popular are telling it how it was and not pulling any punches when it came to describing a motorcycle and its strength and weaknesses.

According to the UBG (now on the internet and going just as strong as ever), the Honda CJ250T didn't go, didn't stop, didn't handle, had poor electrics and no style. The build quality was apparently rubbish, the brakes quickly seized up or wore out, the frame was the worst example of Japanese "bird shit" welding and the seats always split and somehow contrived to give you a wet arse even when it was dry.

It's probably a bit unfair to single out the CJ250T from all the other Honda 250 twins of the 1970s and I am now willing to propose that this bike is a two wheeled Austin Allegro and consequently a Vintage Thing. The basic engine design came out in 1974 as the CB250G5 and this bike featured a six speed gearbox, electric start and a front disc brake, innovations which should have assured success. It was a 180 degree twin, too, which meant the pistons didn't go up and down together like they did in the 360 degree British twins yer elder bruvvers and dads raved about.

The styling of these bikes reminds me a bit of my first bike, a Honda CB125S (def'n'ly NOT a Vintage Thing) so has a certain nostalgia value - like old scars might have. But although the 56mm x 50.6mm twin would read to over 10,000 rpm, it was too much of a bloater to be considered a genuine sports bike and that's what the 250 market demanded, because that was the biggest capacity 17-year-old learners could then ride. The G5's main problem, apart from its weight, was a camshaft that ran directly in the cylinder head. If oil changes were neglected, both components could easily be wrecked and although some firms in the UK offered needle roller bearing conversions, most people didn't see the point of this and moved on to something else when disaster happened.

Another problem for the CB250G5 was the CB360, which, with its 67mm bore, was an even more rev-happy beast and gave the same set of cycle parts that the 250 version enjoyed the performance they deserved (although the handling was still too wallowy). The CB360 put out 35bhp and could manage 90 mph. The CB250G5 gave 27bhp and topped out at 85 mph. The only saving grace that the CB250 had over its larger sibling was the 250 limit for 17-year-olds both performance was the main consideration -- and it usually was -- some for the mad two-stroke twin or triple would be the first choice over a lardy four-stroke twin.

The CJ250T, known in some quarters as the 250T, superseded the G5 in 1976. Weight was reduced by reverting to 5 speeds and discarding the electric starter. Less really can be more. Power output and performance remained about the same and it looked a lot better. Unfortunately, quality was still a problem and after only a year a new design of engine was introduced with a three valve cylinder head and a power sapping balancer shaft. This was the Honda Dream that subsequently morphed into the Honda Superdream, and reached it's apogee (good word that) in the form of the CB400N, which some reckon was a better bike than the legendary 400/4.

When you consider the illustrious Honda 250 forebears, the twins of the seventies must have felt like a backward step -- just like the Allegro when compared with its predecessor, the BMC 1100/1300 range. The CJ250T and the Allegro are contemporaries and epitomise the not-so-sensational 70s, although I think the G5 version, with its podgier styling, compliments the bloated lines of the Allegro. Just like BMC with the Allegro, Honda had a succession of stabs at their 250 twins, sometimes making them better with cuts to lose weight (Allegros were hastily revised internally to create more room) or cosmetic surgery to improve their image. If the 250 equates to Allegro 1300 Super (like I've got, I suppose the 360 version would match the Allegro 1750 (I've got a very rusty one of these). You can look hard for sporting pretensions on both the cars and bikes but not find any, which gives them a sort of subversive charm when you drive or ride them quickly.

Most of them have all gone now. They were unlovable when they were new and are now largely forgotten about. The UBG reckons the Honda twins of this vintage needed a rebore at 25,000 miles and big ends at 50k when the rest of bike would warrant throwing away - if the soggy handling hadn't made the pilot do that already. At least the equally soggy handling Allegro is famous, even if it is famous for all the wrong reasons.

So let us remember the CJ250T. With the benefit of hindsight, you could understand its place in the development of a range of highly successful motorcycles, successful in sales terms at any rate. These were not the bikes that killed off the British motorcycle industry. That crime was accomplished by their predecessors. By the time the CJ250T came along only Triumph and Norton were left. These Honda twins were a sensible alternative in a youthful market obsessed with performance. They were best sellers in their day but instantly forgetable. The more I think about it, it seems incredible that this Honda at Boconnoc survived at all.

As usual, then, it seems that I am supporting the underdog. I suppose I'll have to have one now.

I think the die was cast when I read the UBG's assessment of the CJ250T. After pointing out all its deficiencies, the magazine is vital, it was "Don't buy a yellow one -- you'll never be able to sell it."

Vintage Thing No.23 - Austin Allegro

The Austin Allegro has been voted the Worst Car Ever and I feel compelled to leap to defend this much misunderstood little car. Allegros are far too mainstream to normally feature as a Vintage Thing but if those of us who make the rules can't break 'em, who can? Aye, and there's the rub.

Everybody's heard about Allegros, especially after this dubious accolade. They are famous for all the wrong reasons. But at least they are famous. Who ever remembers the Chrysler (later Talbot) Sunbeam? Or the Datsun Cherry? What about all those grey porridge Japanese cars like Datsun Cherrys and Mazda 626s that sank the likes of British Leyland? Okay, so they may have had some help from cars like the Marina, the Maxi and - yes - the Allegro but hundreds of thousands of these ostensibly better cars were built and where are they now?

They've been largely forgotten, unlike the much maligned Allegro, an example of which I use to get to the station.

I never set out to acquire an Allegro. To cut a very involved story short, I had a Scottish girlfriend who bought an Allegro for transport when she moved down. When she moved back to Scotland there was a hefty phone bill because she was a very sociable person and kept in touch with all her distant friends. I paid the bill and she let me have the car.

I've kept it because it's useful and it smells nice. As Allegros go, it's quite a good one and still has a smart interior that reeks of whatever glue they used in these old cars. It's not fast although it feels quick after I've driven my diesel van and it's not a sportscar. It's comfortable and gets me from A to B, typically from my house to the station in Liskeard. For pootling around the Cornish lanes, it's ideal.

I've had it for nearly ten years and of course it has let me down in that time but it's very simple to fix. Parts for the drivetrain are the same as Minis and Metros and they are considered that bad, are they? Nowadays, my Allegro's got electronic ignition from a Metro. I've acquired a Hydragas fluid pump and replaced the pipes and hoses that feature in the suspension system. that was a big job, mark you, but I am now equal to anything the Hydragas system can throw at me - provide the front units don't fail. Replacements for these are now unobtainable unless they are good secondhand units, which of course is a contradiction in terms for these parts.

I've done a certain amount of welding on it and resprayed it once with some touching in here and there since. The engine smokes quite a bit from cold but doesn't use much oil really and still gets through its emmissions.

One of my mates wrote to BL on behalf of his parents once when they owned one from new to complain about the oil consumption they suffered. The reply was anything better than 300 miles to a pint and they should count themselves lucky.

I don't believe the Allegro's reputation is justified. I don't believe this popularist survey is an example of democracy at work. I reckon it was a lot of people who don't know much about cars trying to show how much they know about cars when really they're showing how little they now about them.

I bought a spare tyre for it the other day. The owner of the tyre fitting bay said, "That's an Allegro wheel! A very comfortable car!"

I knew someone who had a Ford Capri but regretted getting rid of his Allegro 1300 Super (just like mine!) because it was faster, more economical and handled better.

People who really know about cars or have personal experience of Allegros know that they are not all bad.

The Allegro will never be a good car but it is already a great car - great as in the car with the greatest, baddest and worst reputation of all time. Mine is getting rusty from sitting outside at the station during the day in all weathers whereas nowadays it should be cosseted more, as befits a 29 year old Vintage Thing. Conversely, the windscreen rubbers are perishing from exposure to sunlight and the tops of the brown velour seats are fading, especially the rear ones. Something more modern may be called for, something with - let's face it - better build quality and more rustproofing.

I heard about the Allegro attaining recognition as the Worst Car Ever at a party on Saturday night. I'd used mine to get me there, y'see. But as the stories of Allegro aggravated mechanical disasters began, they soon outnumbered by accounts of how easy they were to fix.

A mate of a mate said his Allegro seized up on the way from Callington once. "It just went bleargh...," he said with memorable hand gestures, imitating the pilot of an aeroplane nose diving into the ground. "But we waited for a while and after it had cooled down we just carried on." Try doing that to a VW Lupo.

The Allegro attracts all sorts of abuse, often because of its terrible reputation, but it comes back for more if you let it. It may not be as reliable as more modern cars but it can be fixed. More modern cars don't go wrong so often but when they do it's often "Goodnight Vienna." The parts aren't available or are prohibitively expensive.

My Allegro is a sustainable motorcar. It has kept going longer than many more expensive, less memorable rivals. But it is showing its age. I ought to give it an easier life once I've sorted out its rust because I don't want it coming through again. The only problem is, what could do my Allegro's current job as easily? Nothing has sprung to mind. The nearest alternative seems to be a good condition Nissan Micra, another little blob made in England. I know they're reliable but how easy would one of those be to fix?

If it doesn't go wrong that won't be an issue. Driving a Micra wouldn't be quite the same adventure. The romance of travel would be lost.

But would it get the smiles and waves as I drive by?