I`ve had a car for six years and done a fair amount of miles but just recently it has been showing signs of anno domini and developed some annoying issues - making funny noises when I turn the steering wheel, a tendency not to start in cold weather (a bit like its owner) and just, but only just, struggling through the MoT thingy.  So in a wild fit of irresponsibility I decided it was time to change it and get a new one.  (I`ve noticed with all my previous cars that there came a point when it just felt right to change it, however `attached` to it I might have got.)

So I picked up the new car on Friday and I`m seriously chuffed with it - starts fine, no funny noises, drives like a dream and is nice and comfortable even if I have yet to get my head around all the bells and whistles.  And what happens?  Along comes corona virus and with it the threat that us oldies - who in any case are struggling to survive on a fixed income in challenging economic times - are likely to be confined to barracks for anything up to four months as HM Gov. tries to halt the spread of the virus. Result? Sooper dooper, high tech, state of the art, ocean going, whizzo new car likely to be stuck on the drive for the duration.  Bloody typical.

Now over the past year or so I`ve had my eyes sorted out - entropion problem remedied, both cataracts seen to and new glasses purchased to ensure my 20-20 vision.  The difference has been remarkable and I am hugely grateful for all the superb attention the NHS has provided for me.

But as Spring arrived I realised I needed sun glasses, especially for driving, so I ordered a pair to the same prescription as my `ordinary` pair.  I had a call from the optician to say the new sunglasses were ready to be collected, so I got them yesterday, since when the sun hasn`t shined and, as the car might be stuck in the drive I might not get to use them anyway.  Bloody typical.

Now I realise that God Almighty might have a downer on me anyway, due to my inbuilt scepticism and my reservations about His (or Her) design faults concerning the human body, but I think these latest events might either constitute divine retribution for my sins or they might simply confirm my scepticism and reservations after all?

A CANTERBURY TALE..

Some months ago I bought a new car.  Prior to that I went back to the dealership from where I had bought my previous two cars, only to be told that they had changed dealership and were no longer selling the make of car to which I had grown accustomed.   I was directed to another dealer, this time a large nation-wide company on the other side of town.

They seemed generally disinterested, despite the fact that I was in the market to buy a new, top of the range model.  They took my contact details promising to get in touch, but a few weeks went by and I heard nothing from them.  I came to the conclusion that large nation-wide companies were probably like that and therefore what I needed was a smaller, preferably family run concern who might provide a more personal service. 

I trawled the county and found a smaller, family run dealership an hour`s drive away in Canterbury.  So I went down there, had a chat with them, had a test drive and bought the car I had been looking for.  I was impressed with the quality of service, the attention to detail and the personal interest shown in what was, after all, a significant transaction.  So far, so good.

Now I have been very pleased with the new car but it`s the little things isn`t it?   Like the fact that one of the screws holding the rear number plate inexplicably sheared off and, more recently, the cable which releases the `flap` securing the fuel cap broke, which meant that I had to use BluTack to keep the number plate in place and to keep the fuel `flap` closed.   So today I went back to family-friendly dealer who apologised for the inconvenience and fixed the problems with a refreshing cheerfulness.

Trouble is, I don`t see much of Canterbury - bastion of Christianity, Cathedral city, UNESCO World Heritage Site, originally Cantwareburh (stronghold of the Kent people,) home of Kent County Cricket Club, birthplace of famous people such as Christopher Marlowe (there`s a theatre named for him,) Orlando Bloom, Fiona Phillips no less and David Gower went to school there.  Canterbury also has the inevitable trading estate, populated by all the usual suspects - Currys/PC World, Marks and Spencer, KFC and more car dealerships than you can shake a stick at, including my family friendly one.

Maybe next time, I`ll explore what the city has to offer beyond the confines of its ubiquitous trading estate.   I`m sure a certain Mr. Chaucer would approve.

AN OFFER THEY`LL PROBABLY REFUSE..

Whilst scouring the social columns of the Sunday newspapers yesterday, I came across an intriguing item. It seems that `celebrities` and especially those who move in royal circles have a particularly advantageous arrangement with a leading motor manufacturer.   Apparently, the quasi-regal Middletons have a deal with Range Rover by which they pay just a small proportion of the normal leasing costs for their £140,000 top-of-the-range vehicles. 

A spokesman explained, "The Middletons` Range Rovers have been leased to them as part of The VIP Scheme, the idea being that you pay a small percentage of the usual fee in return for certain services - which can be as little as being seen driving around in the vehicle.  It does wonders for the brand."

Now, I`m thinking of getting in touch with Nissan up in Sunderland.   As I drive one of their cars and quite apart from all the local driving I do, I also clock up the miles on frequent trips to Cornwall, Devon and Southampton and back. (I`m off to the New Forest again on Wednesday.)  Moreover, it strikes me as odd that the vehicles driven by the Middletons of this world probably have blacked out windows which might negate the point, as people won`t be able to see them driving around.  With me, on the other hand, anyone can see me driving my Nissan so I`ll probably be more visible up and down the A303, the A30, the M3 and the other highways of my life and so be much better for `the brand` anyway.

So I`ll see what Nissan have to say about a similar deal for me.  Worth a try, although I suspect it will be an offer they`ll probably refuse and that I`ll have to go on paying the full going rate.  C`est la vie, n`est pas?

It`s the little things..

I bought a new car last November and it`s OK.   It goes well, it`s comfortable, has loads of bells and whistles (most of which I don`t need or understand) and there`s plenty of room for Barney in the boot.   Now, it seems to me that with modern cars, big ends don`t `go` any more, crankshafts stay in one piece and suspension doesn`t fall apart.    But it`s the little things that plague my driving life.

For example, we`re driving down the M26 off on holiday and the radio aerial inexplicably just falls off.   There`s no way I can stop and begin a search for it on a fast moving motorway so I have to buy a new one.   Before we last went off to Cornwall, I did the usual thing of giving it a clean, checked the oil, tyre pressure and the screen wash.   As I topped it up, the screen wash promptly came straight out of the bottom.   Obviously a leak in the washer bottle; the garage had a look at it and told me that it must have been `impact damage` as the fog light had been pushed back a bit and there was a slight problem with  a  wheel arch.

The conclusion is that whilst the car had been parked somewhere, someone had given it a nudge and caused these problems and driven off, although to be fair there is no visible bodywork damage.   It`s going to cost £600 to sort it all out so I`m going through the expected drama with the insurance company and one bright day I might get the car fixed.

Now I confess to the odd `glancing blow` with assorted obstacles such as walls, gateposts and neighbours` cars (note the plural,) as a result of which there is the odd blemish here and there, but nothing major and nothing that the careful application of a bit of touch-in paint hasn`t put right.   But they`re all little things, little annoying things, things that I could do without.   I did wonder about Friday afternoons in Sunderland and whether I might have copped for one but that might be unfair on the car manufacturers.

Over the past 50+ years of driving I`ve had my share of real problem cars, eccentric ones, but most of the cars I have owned have been fine - no scrapes, nothing falling off, no anonymous nudging, no neighbourly issues - so maybe I`m just going through a problem phase with this one.   If things don`t improve though, I might be tempted to give it a good thrashing, send it on its way and try something different. It`s only the little things....but the clock is ticking.

EVERY LITTLE HELPS?

I`ve noticed it`s getting increasingly difficult to park in `Superstore` car parks.   There are areas set aside for disabled badge holders, which I don`t have a problem with provided they are genuine.   Then there are areas set aside for `Parent with Child,` which is ok, although as they don`t seem to specify the age of the children I guess I could park there when accompanied by my 48 year old eldest son?

I`ve recently seen areas  reserved for `car valeting` and, of course, for assorted recylce bins for things like plastic bottles, clothes, shoes, glass bottles, etc.   I`m a bit surprised there aren`t areas set aside for ladies driving large four-wheel drives, but even more surprised there aren`t special spaces for the over-70s.

Now there`s an idea!

TESTING TIMES

It`s a sure sign of getting on a bit when your grandaughter passes her driving test. Sarah, who is 17, passed hers at the first attempt on Friday thus putting one over both her Dad and her Grandad, as we both failed our first tests. I don`t know what went wrong for Sarah`s Dad, but I vividly recall my own failure which took place in Maidstone on a Tuesday morning in about 1956.

The trouble with Maidstone in those days was that it didn`t have a by-pass and there were no motorways so that all the traffic between London and the ports like Dover went right through the middle of the town. And Tuesday mornings were when the town`s market was held - a big deal in those days, so maybe not the best time for a driving test. The test centre was pretty much in the middle of the town and I drove out of there rather nervously to join the queue of traffic crawling down the hill. And then we stopped.

For twenty minutes we didn`t move and with the test supposedly lasting about half an hour, I was asked to try and turn round and crawl back to the test centre, where I was told how sorry they were but the traffic conditions did not make it possible for the test to be properly conducted. And would I like to make another appointment for a free retest on any other day than a Tuesday morning, which I did and scraped through the retest despite confessing that I didn`t have a clue about one of the Highway Code questions I was asked. (I have long suspected that they were going to pass me anyway unless I was seriously dreadful as a kind of compensation for the first attempt.)

I`m convinced that the test these days is much more thorough and difficult than it ever was when I had mine. I never had to concern myself with a theory test and the car I learnt to drive - a Hillman Minx - was pretty `basic.` Having passed the test though, I had to wait years before I could own a car of my own and when I eventually did it was a white Ford Popular 100e named Emma, with a side valve engine and lots of eccentric features. I suspect Sarah, who has been saving up for years, might already have her sights set on a car to give her the freedom of the road and a whole new outlook on life. One of life`s rites of passage has been ticked off her list. I just wonder what the next one might be.

BELLS AND WHISTLES...

I took delivery of a new car about three weeks ago. It`s fine. I like it very much. It`s a Nissan Qashquai N-tec, 2.0 litre, petrol, manual - all the stuff I`ve been used to driving for about 50 years. It`s very comfortable, has a nice high seating position, a nice glass roof with a kind of blind that covers it up if it gets too hot. It`s got a good radio, cd player, aircon, no less than six gears and a nice big boot for Barney top make himself comfortable. Feel a `but` coming on?

But, it`s got a lot of bells and whistles. An MP3 thingy, bluetooth whatsit, i pod something or other and a satnav! Now I have absolutely no need for the bluetooth, the i pod thing or the MP3, whatever that may be but I thought the satnav might be `interesting,` so on recent trips, I thought I would check it out and see how it worked. I thought it might have been especially useful on our journey to and from yesterday`s family wedding in Richmond, where our middle son, Kevin, was finally and enchantingly wedded to the lovely Claudine. More on that story in a later edition, however.

Back to the satnav. We had to make the journey from here in Kent up to Richmond. Now, normally I would have a look at a map, jot down the roads to follow and more often than not, get there without too much problem. But we punched the route into the satnav and tried to rely on the lilting tones of `Jane` to see us safely there. To be fair, we were held up by the closure of the M26 due to a bad accident, giving rise to a longish detour and some more delays on the M25 which seemed to throw Jane off course. She constantly urged me to make u-turns, come off at Motorway exits only to go back on again and suggest that I should go down routes I didn`t want to go down.

I`m sure she was trying to be helpful and efficient, but so far at least I haven`t grown enough in confidence with her and I`m pretty sure she feels the same way about me. I sense the early stages of an interesting relationship developing here, a power battle emerging and a grim determination to be proved right. But today I found my way home alright without any help from her, thank you very much. Fifteen all in the opening set at the moment.

THIS WILL MAKE CHINA STOP AND THINK....

So, yet another hike in the fuel duty came into force today. In the last couple of weeks I have renewed the annual road tax (£165,) renewed the car insurance (£390) and now I face paying almost £1 per litre - well over £5 per gallon - for the petrol. In fact, I heard lunchtime that in rural areas of the south-west, the price has already gone above £1 per litre, bringing particular dismay to people living in rural areas.

I`m not too surprised at the speed with which the price rise has been implemented. A few years ago, coming home from a holiday in north Devon, I needed to get some petrol as I knew we had to cross Exmoor and I didn`t know when I might find the next garage. So I had no choice but to pay the £1.13p I was charged at the only garage in Lynmouth...and I`ve never been back there.

Now, the Government say that today`s rise in fuel duty was signalled in the Budget some months ago; that there will be similar hikes next year and the year after that and so on....all because of the need to limit the use of road transport so as to reduce carbon emissions, tackle global warming and save the planet. So that`s alright then.

Sorry, Gordon, I don`t believe it. I`m sure it`s yet another in HM Gov`s clamour to raise more revenue. I wouldn`t mind so much if they were honest about it, but let`s be clear - we are already taxed higher than any other country in western Europe (at least France did away with the road tax licence when they put up their fuel duty); if you`re well off, another 2.3p (inc. VAT) on the price of a litre of petrol won`t make any difference to you and the fact that at least 70p - possibly more, I don`t have the figures - of the cost of each litre goes to the Government is nothing short of outrageous.

But the main point is that from now until the same time next week, another coal-fired power station will have been commissioned in China. I`m sure they will stop and think about the efforts we`re making here before they build any more - not!

There are times when my optimism glass is half full and times when it`s not. Right now, faced with the ever increasing cost of my essential motoring, I feel I`m running on empty.

DON`T THEY KNOW THERE`S A GAME ON??...

So another Bank Holiday this weekend and the predictions are for no less than 18million cars to be on the roads of the UK.

I fear I have no option but to join in the exodus, as Southampton FC are at home to the Potters of Stoke City....and I really can`t let holiday traffic come between me and my football. Two weeks ago I did the same journey, which took me four hours and I expect much the same tomorrow. In a concerted attempt to get off the motorways, last time I came home all the way from Winchester by using the A31 and A25 - very `leisurely` as it`s impossible to go more than about 50mph all the way....and it `only` took me two and a half hours to get home coming that way.

Kick-off tomorrow is 3.00pm so an early start is called for and perhaps a saunter along the A25 and the A31 will at least guarantee my arrival, whereas the motorways will merely guarantee delay and frustration. Why do I do it? Simple - I just love it.

THE TRAGEDY OF INCONVENIENCE

This is Junction 4 of the M20 Motorway - about half a mile from where I live. Most of the time, the Motorway is peaceful enough, with the sweep of the North Downs in the background, but early today there was a six-vehicle pile-up which closed the Motorway from this junction up to the next one, where the M26 peels off and heads west. The result has been that the local roads around our sleepy village have become gridlocked - and likely to remain so for some hours until the Motorway is reopened.

We were expecting a guy to arrive this morning to lay a carpet in our conservatory. He was due at about 9.30 but thoughtfully he telephoned to say that he didn`t have a clue what time he might arrive, if at all. Now, this is a bit inconvenient, but I cannot bring myself to be even the slightest bit annoyed about it, for our slight inconvenience is as nothing compared to the tragedy that has befallen another family as a result of this morning`s event.

Someone has lost a son, or a father, a husband or a partner in the mayhem which befell our local Motorway this morning, adding to the 3,000 or so annual fatalities on our country`s roads and my heart goes out to them. I do lots of driving and, touch wood, have never been involved in anything like that in 50 years of driving. Sometimes, I count my lucky stars and hope they continue to smile on me as I travel the motorways of life.