125,000 and out
Today marked the end of an era, as I finally confined my car to the scrap heap.

Gone is the car in which I learnt to drive, which ferried me to St James' Park from such exotic locations as Nottingham, Leytonstone, Guildford and Newbury. Gone is the car which came on the first holiday I went on with my wife. Gone is the car which has, on numerous occasions, carried five adults to its destination with barely a whimper. Gone is the car I've been driving for the last ten years.

I feel a little like I have somehow betrayed the car, although in fact I've made a very pragmatic decision, on the basis that its MOT is due in the next fortnight, and it would fail in a very expensive fashion.

The whole episode conjures up memories of the demise of Boxer in Animal Farm, with the faithful work horse now departing for a swift demise at the hands of the slaughterhouse staff.

It may have been time, and in fairness it's done over 125,000 miles (most of which with me behind the wheel) but our parting of the ways this morning was nonetheless a sad one.
- posted by Paul @ 5:17 pm |