I know, I know, hairdressers’ cars. Well, yah boo sucks to you. I like convertibles. I first got one 11 years ago when I was in the fortunate position of having moved jobs to one that paid a lot more than I was on when I bought the flat I was living in while having no other commitments. So I decided that I should get myself a nice convertible to enjoy while I was still young and could buy one without either caring too much about the luggage capacity or costs.
Sadly after 5 years with OMB on the way and after returning from the airport after a ski holiday with Mrs B where she had to endure the whole journey with a suitcase on her knees it was time to go for something more practical. My TT (the 225hp one of course) was clearly important to us as it was both blessed by being named by Mrs B (Alfie to her elderly Nissan Micra’s Milly) and I photographed it just before it got traded in. Apart from Mrs B I have no photos of girlfriends (other than one from Uni who was in the same Freshers’ Photo) or photos of any of the other cars I’ve had apart from hire cars on holiday (although there’s probably a shot of the Angemobile from my student days somewhere).
Anyway, spending half the week away in Slough has finally given me the excuse to splash out on a repacement. It’s rather more sensible, a Golf 1.6 Diesel so I can bore about how economical it is rather than how quickly it can accelerate, and has space for Mrs B and OMB and another plus a weekend’s luggage. All I need now is to replace the VW badge that someone kindly unscrewed from the bonnet as part of a one man late night Beastie Boys revival.