Allow me, if you will, to wind up the holiday blog this year by waxing lyrical about my car. Some of you will no doubt be aware that earlier this year I was unable to justify spending another sou on my adored Subaru
Imprezza. Thus it was with great regret that I found myself saying a very sad (I think the last time I cried real tears for a car was when I had to sell the red
Celica just before Lottie arrived) goodbye to the
Scooby.
For the first time in my life I decided on a proper "Mum" car - you know the sort of thing? Really sensible, with LOADS of boot space. Well, as usual, a compromise was made. Having decided that I rather like the shape of the Citroen Xsara Picasso, I thought I'd look for one of those, but having revved one of the 1.6 diesel engines and decided immediately that it was totally gutless, I resolved to have nothing less than the 2 litre turbo D engine in my own car. OK, gotta be said, it's also pretty gutless - if you're trying to sneak past a Ferrari on the back roads between here and Fleet! The rest of the time it's a pleasure to drive.
This, though, wasn't completely apparent until I started packing for the holiday. Now, last year we had the Scooby with the large Thule topbox, and not a hell of a lot of space round the girls legs. This year, having no roof rails the top box was ignored, and I was worried that the girls would end up with even less space round their legs. But no! To my delighted surprise, the boot is so big we had very little in the rear footwells, and unlike many of the other foreign cars we passed on the road, we could actually see out of the rear window. We did remove the middle seat in the back, replacing it with our "kitchen box", and piled all our pillows (you cannot possibly go Glamping without your own feather pillow - don't be silly!) on top. Everything packed in so well that we almost had room to spare. Almost - come on, we're 4 girls!
But the thing about the "mum" car is the fuel consumption. In the Scooby I'd pay about £40 for a tank, and I'd be able to go anywhere between 212 miles and 278 (achieved the year the clutch died, as we drove carefully out of the Alps with said clutch slipping). On the other hand, the Citroen can make 500 miles before needing a refill - and all for around £50 per tank!
Oh! Oh, and the cruise control. I wont mention the AC, because everyone has air nowadays, but the cruise was a lot more useful than I'd ever have believed. We didn't exceed the speed limit at all during the whole holiday - a different story from last year as we raced like lunatics from pillar to post (and got busted while doing so!) We got onto the motorway, pressed the button, and stuck to 129 kph for as long as we could. I'm not saying that being the only driver isn't still pretty tiring, but it was just one thing I didn't have to concentrate on during the journey.
OK - I didn't want a sensible mum car - I wanted something with a big, brutish engine, which would corner like a Lambourghini and look like a modern Maserati, but I'll admit that it's not a bad old car.
