A couple of weeks ago, I took ownership of my new Mini, a proper little 5 door Mini Cooper leaving my Mini Countryman behind. The Countryman was not entirely a proper Mini, they are big, and getting bigger every year to satisfy the need for big cars. For a shorty like me, with no legs, the clambering in is not elegant.
Why do I love a car? Last week I travelled to Stamford up the A1 to meet a friend for a lovely, long overdue, catch up lunch at a nostalgic tea rooms. After 25 years of travelling to all four corners of the UK for work, the A1 is a well travelled route for me. Although at times stressful, I had forgotten how much I enjoyed driving, particularly when the sun is shining and traffic is relatively light. The trip had the added bonus of providing my new Mini a really good test, and it passed with flying colours. I felt like the old me, or even a much younger me, for those few hours, not just the lost, old curmudgeon trying to reinvent herself.
I never for one minute regretted my emergency, impulse buy Countryman. After John died, I was left with a dilemma. I signed his beautiful Saab convertible into my name during the last couple of weeks of his life, leaving it as long as possible to do the dirty dead. I knew it had to be done, or we would be a car short. If the owner of a car dies, the car cannot be used until probate and/or change of ownership granted and my son needed my Golf to get around and get to work. I hated pressing the buttons on the DVLA website and told John, at every stage, what I was doing with his pride and joy.
The Saab was fine for a couple of weeks, then started making very ominous loud noises. Knowing the repairs would cost more than the Saab was worth, I needed a replacement. I happened to be passing a mini garage, got a good deal on both the Countryman and trade in value for the Saab, job done.
Our beautiful old Labrador, Ledley, died a couple of weeks after I got the new car. Two weeks later, Mildred entered our lives in my new Countryman, with the help of my daughter, Sarah. Big decision: did I let her drive the new car or cuddle the new puppy? She wanted the former, I opted for the latter. Mildred loved Sarah from that point onwards. Over the next few months, I made plans to bundle her, Mildred, not Sarah, into the car and travel around the country. Plan thwarted when Mildred was diagnosed with kidney dysplasia a few months later and given 12 - 18 months to live. Enter Humphrey, again with Sarah; this time, her husband came too. As Humphrey was born in Derbyshire, we stayed a couple of nights: Sarah and Kev in a romantic spa hotel for Valentine’s Day, courtesy of a very grateful mother/mother-in-law and me in a cottage with stunning views.
I never got to travel around the UK in my Countryman. Mildred is now 7 and a real character, but I’m not sure travelling with a dog who needs to pee every 3 hours is a good idea. Additionally, 2 mad big black Labradors would be a bit much for: a) me on long journeys, and b) for anyone else having the misfortune to provide us with shelter.
My first introduction to Minis happened a week after passing my test, aged 29. Living in London, I had never needed to learn to drive until we moved to Hertfordshire. I borrowed my sister-in-law’s apple green Mini to drive to Hemel Hempstead. Where I was faced with the town’s notorious magic roundabout, built in 1973 - so called because people were convinced the designers had taken magic mushrooms 🍄 before coming up with such a ludicrous idea - 1 BIG roundabout with 6 mini roundabouts around it. You are faced with traffic coming at you from all directions. Coming down the hill on the St Albans Road, I considered closing my eyes, putting my foot to the floor and driving straight over the middle of the big roundabout to get to the other side and the safety of the A414, now the A4146. Even in my state of panic it was not the greatest plan and I decided on plan B: to exit every mini roundabout at its first exit, turn round and repeat until I achieved my goal. The YouTube video shows the correct way.
Back on subject, ‘Why give up my Countyman?’ The head rabbit 🐇 grilled me before I did the dirty deed. ‘You have many memories associated with that car,’ pulling me back from my usual default of impulsive decisions. As well as buying a new car & a new dog 3 months after John died, I put an offer in a new house and sold the old one. Those decisions were absolutely for the right reasons, but against all advice on making decisions during the early stages of grief.
Back to the present day, and my reasons for the new Mini:
The main reason was a strange orange warning light on the Countryman that flashed a couple of times, something to do with the drive train. I checked: it could have been simple or very serious if the warning turned red. When I drove to Stamford in my new Mini, I realised how much the problem had stopped me from going anywhere. An air of suspicion that I may end up on the side of a road waiting for the AA was always in the back of your mind. I cancelled a couple of things involving the M25. I had a similar trust problem with a new convertible Astra years ago. After a series of issues, including the driver’s side window suddenly disappearing down into the driver’s door and losing power in the outside lane on the A1 at 70 mph, I traded it in for the Golf. Vauxhall ceased that convertible model soon after. Trust in a car was and still is important for me.
I’m shrinking, and the Countryman is getting bigger by the day. Although I have discovered one height issue with my new Mini. The hatchback door is higher than on the Countryman, and I can only close it if I stand by the side of the car.
My travelling around the country with the dogs is not going to happen. I can safely and comfortably fit both dogs in the new Mini. Humphrey won’t go in the boot and goes on the back seat, and it’s easier for Mildred to get into the lower boot. I rarely, if ever, have them both in at once.
I am unlikely to increase my mileage. When working, my annual mileage was between 25,000 & 30,000 miles; now it’s under 8,000. I don’t need a big car for regular motorway journeys anymore.
Since I twisted it a few years ago, my left knee is dodgy. All my arguments for not having an automatic are outweighed by the need to be sensible and without pain/discomfort in slow moving traffic. I haven’t stalled nor needed to superglue my left foot to the floor, yet………
I needed to be dragged into the 21st Century and not hang onto the deluded belief that manuals give you more control. After a couple of weeks, I’m a convert to automatics.
I love the new car smell. Not the greatest reason I know
I will admit getting used to the everything being done automatically takes time. I have resisted the temptation to switch off all the new fangled ideas until I understand them completely, or fathom out how to manually perform the task, such as full beam on the headlights, temperature control, and changing the petrol gauge when I fill the tank - I like to know how many miles I get for each tankful. For the first time ever, I have become well acquainted with the owner’s manual.
You may ask, why have I not gone for an electric car? I have no charging point, and installing one would cost the same as my Mini, for a number of reasons. Until the cost of public chargers comes down, it’s too expensive. A big problem with rolling out electric cars is access to affordable charging points in areas where installing household charging points is difficult. Another debate for another day.
Prompt
What is your favourite way of travelling?
Think of the 3 best places you would go, for fun, for peace and quiet and for the views.
Thank you so much for reading my pondering and a mahoosive thank you to all of my subscribers for sticking with my eclectic, eccentric rambles down the rabbit warren 🐇, fox 🦊 dens, badger 🦡 sets and otter 🦦 holts.
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I just loved hearing the excitement and pleasure in your voice throughout out this piece!
I loved this, Jo. I passed my test aged 17 way back in 1976 and have always enjoyed driving. I have just pulled over on my way to a writing retreat in North Wales. The drive has been spectacular taking me through the heart of Wales. The sun is shining and I have the roof down on my Audi A3 convertible - bliss. It makes me feel like I’m 17 again!