I bought my first ever car in 1984, aged 23. It cost me £250 from a nurse I met at a Social Biology A-level evening class.
Had I been Italian, it would have been a racy little Fiat 500 or maybe even a nippy Alfasud. Had I been French, it’d have been a Citroen 2CV complete with an 'Energie atomique – non merci' sticker on the rear window, or a DS if I was a fashion victim. If I was a German, it might have been a sparky little BMW 2002 or a Beetle.
As a South London Brit, it was a Morris Marina 1.3 Super in red. With badly fading paintwork. Truly, the Marina was one of the ugliest sets of wheels ever to tread tarmac. I can only thank God I resisted the allure of a brown Allegro.
I reminisce in this way to illustrate an important point about the tragic long-term decline of Britain’s car industry since the Second World War: namely, after turning out crap cars like my Marina, the Allegro, the Vauxhall Viva and the Rover SD2, how can anyone have been surprised that the whole home-owned industry went down the lavatory?
What’s left is owned by the Japanese, the Indians and the Americans - and that is now on short-term working with a begging bowl being placed in front of Peter Mandelson. I dread to think what will be left once demand picks up again.
I’ve just spent a while trying out the new Vauxhall Insignia, which is a pretty good set of wheels. Although it bears the Vauxhall name, there is nothing British about it – it’s made in Germany and they’ve fallen over backwards to give it styling hints and the feel of a BMW or a VW. Well you wouldn’t want to style it like a Rover or a Morris Marina, would you?
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