I am not especially car-proud, and see little point in buying a car from brand
new given that 50% of the depreciation takes place in the first three years: why pay twice as much for a car that will last almost as long? At nearly three years old, it was the youngest, and smartest, car I had ever owned. Were I a demanding driver it is unlikely that I would choose to drive either a Carina or its successor, an Avensis.
Prior to the accident I had been doing a lot of driving. The car crash threw many aspects of my life up in the air. I decided to change how I earned my living (then a portfolio of business, lecturing, training and counselling) which has resulted in most of my driving now being limited to local commuting. Given that mine is a second car, were there a rail service between where I live and where I work, I could probably manage without a car. An Avensis seems to me to be over-specified for my requirements. However, the intensity of the motion sickness I experience, including when driving, makes travelling in a smaller car a nauseatingly disabling experience.
Prior to the Avensis, when I had been driving much longer distances, I had typically shopped at Sainsburys. In fact, I had word processed a multi-page tabular shopping list with my usual purchases set out in store-aisle order. However, restricting my driving to local commuting, meant that I could shop more promiscuously, adding visits to the Co-op, Asda, Tescos, Morrisons, Waitrose and Julian Graves. Not only could I sniff out bargains, but I could also shop on the way home from work. The Avensis became my shopping trolley.
The Avensis also became my mobile office. I found that if I kept a lot of teaching materials (stationery, lecture notes, assignments, recording equipment) in the car, I would always have access to whatever I needed. Whilst I overstate my case, it was also a reality that it would take me half an hour to empty the car prior to its annual maintenance service.
Unlike in the Carina, I made very few long trips in the Avensis. The most notable was the day I climbed Scafell and Scafell Pike. The trip was very nearly a major disaster, of which the car was the safest aspect. I recall that at one point during the outward journey, the brakes were smoking badly as I descended one of the Lake District passes. I parked the car very tightly in the only place I could find, and noted its location on my map. Booted up, adequately equipped, car locked, I set off. Scafell I managed okay, but Scafell Pike I found difficult. Having telephoned home from the summit of Scafell Pike (as one does), I set off on the return journey and almost immediately the outer sole of one of my expensive but old mountain boots peeled off. I was close to the top of England's highest mountain, surrounded by scree slopes, and one of my feet was virtually unprotected. Not prepared for this event, I sat down for a while to work out my options. I seriously considered calling for rescue (I have always wanted to ride in a helicopter). To this day I do not know whether my choice was wise or foolish: I chose to walk away from my car, to the nearest habitation about six miles away. The route, though rough, looked to be a good deal safer than trying to walk directly to my car. When I arrived at the pub it was already dusk. I was able to telephone for a taxi to take me back to the Avensis, fifteen miles away, the location of which I had carefully noted on the map. Disorientated by the sour turn of events, I was anxious and relieved to see the car. Whilst I later found that the front bumper skirt had been scraped, the car was otherwise un-interfered with. As a drove back to Durham, I felt as though I had had a lucky escape.
During my period as the car's keeper, I drove about 100,000 miles, and when we parted on 25 April 2008 the odometer read 127,177 miles. I wonder what will become of the Avensis. I am reminded of Black Beauty.
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