A sore loser...

So, naturally, I am not an overly emotional person. But today was a sad day. My love affair with the 1.0 litre VW purple Polo has ended. I feel as though I have had my man-hood severed from me, in one brutal blow. As I asked my Mum to take a picture of the car and I, my little sister laughed and rolled her eyes. "Why do you need a picture", she said. Well, she has little understanding of what it is like to have a car, as she has only had a handful of lessons. But for me, this car has been a massive part of my life. My first car, and it's been this way since before I had even learnt to drive.

I remember when we first took the similar model, navy, 5-door hatchback out for a test-drive a good fourteen years ago. We went up to Hunstanton for a picnic on the beach, a sunny day. We were being sold 'the dream' at that point. I remember the salesman twisting my Dad's arm, as he suggested 'think of all the freedom you and your wife can have'. Little did the salesman at the time know that this same car would be used to teach not just myself, but my older sister, and younger brother how to drive. The same non-power assisted steering, the same unresponsive brakes, the same dodgy heating system, bad window wipers, lack of air-bag's...

The runs it has made. The memories that have been shared. Catherine crashed it. I have had some scrapes in it. James most probably thrashed it about?! We all had our fun, and were granted independence! What a joy. That's why it is sad to see it go! I myself crammed it full of possessions, a drum kit, my new bike, 6 friends at once, let someone else drive it, the list goes on... It did day trips, break-ups, booze runs, hospital dashes, long distance treks, shared exam success, sporting failure, literally everything. It truly was a great car, and it will always have a soft spot in my heart.

Bye!