Why we love the cars we do
By Martin Spain
Reminiscing on favourite cars that we've owned, and why we love some more than others.
If you're a petrolhead you've probably owned a number of cars in your driving lifetime. Some of them may have been practical, some unreliable, some of them may have been brilliant, but which ones did you love? Which ones do you miss the most?
I've been giving this subject a lot of thought recently as I prepare to sell my E46 M3. Fast, reliable and versatile, it's a car that's universally praised by the motoring press and driving public alike. I've driven thousands of miles in mine, in all sorts of conditions and it's never put a wheel wrong. Yet in nearly a year of ownership, it's not managed to work its way into my affections. Put simply, I like it a lot, but I just don't love it.
I had a similar problem with my previous car, a mk1 Mazda MX-5. Certain corners of the internet would have you believe that your life isn't complete until you've tried one, and that it really is the only answer to the perennial 'What car under a grand?' question, but I didn't enjoy the car that much. I've come to the conclusion that there are some cars that you just 'click' with, regardless of any fault or foibles, and others that you don't get on with despite their brilliance.
It got me wondering what the last car I owned and loved was, and the answer might be something of a surprise. Of the many cars I've had the pleasure of running, the one I miss the most is ... a Volvo. I appreciate that the previous sentence might sound like I've taken leave of my senses, but hear me out.
This wasn't just any Volvo, this was an ex-police pursuit car, a Volvo V70 T5. It was a discreet weapon in a dark blue suit, and I absolutely loved it. It drank fuel and oil like they were going out of fashion, it chewed through front tyres and the steering wasn't what you'd call communicative, but that car and I shared many great driving moments. The boxy looks and surprising turn of speed earned it the nickname 'The Flying Wardrobe' from my friends, and for the princely sum of two grand you couldn't ask for a more versatile car.
The gruff note and power of the turbocharged inline-five never failed to put a smile on my face, and the knowledge that it used to chase down speeding cars with the boys in blue at the wheel lent it an offbeat cool - to my eyes, at least. It completed 12 hilarious laps of the Nordschleife, it was brilliant at scaring other motorway users out of the fast lane (particularly if you happened to be wearing a white shirt and a dark tie for the full undercover traffic cop look), and I even managed to fit a seven-foot fridge freezer in the cavernous boot once to save on delivery charges.
I only sold it because I stopped needing a car that could fit a massive drum kit in the back. It had a fairly interstellar 255,000 miles on the clock by that point and the seals on the turbo had started to fail. Even those faults didn't stop me from feeling rather sad when the new owner drove it away. As an unmarried bloke with no children, it seemed strange to feel such affection for a family estate car, but such was the character of the Volvo that I've not had as much fun in any of the subsequent cars I've owned, despite them being much newer and much faster.
So why do we love the cars we do? I think it's a combination of a number of things, and most of them have nothing to do with horsepower or 0-60 times. It's the important moments experienced with the car that count, and the feeling you get when you drive it. The Volvo wasn't the fastest car I've owned, nor the best-looking, but none of that mattered; love is blind, and can no more be explained than it can be cured. I miss that car.
Jack and Matt's favourite cars
I've been lucky enough to own some great cars over the last few years. Driving has always been very important to me and it's those journeys in those cars that I savour and relive more than any other when I look back at cars I've owned in the past.
Choosing a car that I've loved? My Cayman would be the obvious and easy choice; I had it longer than any other car I have ever owned and experienced emotions in that car that I have never had before. But the wounds of loss are still deep and fresh from seeing that one leave, so I'm going to jump back to the summer of 2002 and a trans-European trip in my old RenaultSport Clio 172.
It was my first long-distance schlepp, my first Autobahn experience and my first foray into Alpine driving. Tanking through France and then Germany to arrive in Mayrhofen was a real buzz, but nothing prepared me for the real thrill of a week spent thrashing that gutsy little motor up and down the valley from Mayrhofen to the Hintertux glacier with snowboards wedged in the back and the sort of stunning scenery that only Alps can deliver outside the windows.
On the runs down the valley the Clio would pitch into delicious 4-wheel drifts through the sinuous part-covered tunnels, and with just enough poke to overtake the tourist buses and camper vans it made every journey an adrenalin-soaked adventure during that week.
On the journey home I was already planning the next trip, one that sadly never happened, but the experience of that week in the company of that feisty little car will stay with me forever. In fact, it's probably that trip alone that made it an easy choice to pick up a Clio 200 last year...
- Jack Wood
There are two cars that I really miss, for almost completely opposite reasons. The first is the new BMW 316i Coupe that I got when I was 21. It was more than a little underpowered, with a mere 105bhp in a chassis that could handle over 300 in the M3 version. It wasn't a fun car too drive by any measurable yardstick, but it was easily the best car that I could afford to insure and of all the cars that I've owned it was easily the most reliable. The only problem I had in four years and 45,000 miles of motoring was a failed windscreen washer, which was fixed under warranty. Some days I wonder why I ever sold the car, but then I remember the car that replaced it: a Porsche 944 S2.
In many ways the 944 was the worst car I have ever owned. It let me down on more than one occasion, usually in an awkward place - on a very expensive parking meter in central London being one of the more memorable ones - and it never seemed to return from a service with anything less than a four-figure bill. It ate tyres and brakes even though I never took it on a single trackday, and it had terrible cockpit ventilation which made it a truly unpleasant place to be on a hot summer day.
Despite that litany of problems, it's still the most fun car I've ever owned. The chassis was an absolute peach and complemented the perfectly weighted steering, which was later enhanced by fitting a lovely RS steering wheel. The big four-cylinder engine lacked aural stimulation but made up for it with plenty of torque, making the car very easy to drive. The optional sports seats remain the best I have ever sat in, and I could easily do a 300-mile trip without feeling any discomfort. I occasionally think of buying another one and the only thing that stops me is the memory of those repair bills...
- Matthew Lange