PF Mayes

Not long ago, we decided to get a ‘toy car’ for a bit of fun at the weekends when the sun shone.

My immediate thoughts were for an MGB roadster with chrome bumpers and wire wheels – something a bit butch that maybe would need a bit of regular spanner work, but would be all rorty exhausts and squealing tyres.

However, my wife had seen this ‘..pretty little car called a Figaro’  sitting in a car park.  She argued that it would be so nice just cruising around in such a lovely little car with the top open, maybe we could even take the dog?

Naturally, I was outvoted.  Probably the clincher was that my middle name is Figarro (near enough the same) which meant we were ordained to have a Figaro.

The die was cast, now it was time to do the serious research for a Figaro. Availability of Figaros on the market? Tick. Availability of spares? Tick. Cost of ownership? Tick. Cost of insurance? Tick. Support club? Double tick. Within a couple of months, we had located a first class newly imported example and drove it home in the snow from Surrey up to Shropshire.

First impressions on the drive home was that the heater was (thankfully) wonderful, the windscreen wipers worked well and it could drive over 120 miles without breaking down.  It was comfortable, had a gorgeous period dashboard and the cabin was filled with that evocative old leather smell, the usual aroma inside well preserved old Bentleys and Daimlers.  Progress was ‘steady’, the steering was precise and the brakes were reassuring if given a hard enough shove.  On the downside, the three speed automatic slush box seemed to sap most of extra urge provided by the tiny turbo to the sweet little engine

That was two years ago. So why do I (now) love our Figaro? It is reliable-no unscheduled spanner work.  It makes me drive gently. And best of all, is that wonderful leather smell.

Margaret with ‘Ratfink’, our dog enjoying a trip out in our Figaro

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