Old Cars

Each year a strange and beautiful procession comes to visit my town. It contains some fifteen hundred vintage cars that have struggled across forty kilometers of city plain and then up a further thirty kilometers of winding hills. They gather at the motor museum down the road and their ocupants sip Champagne, or the local equivalent, modestly of course, then disappear again to whatever dry shed they spend the rest of the year in.

The reason Adelaide has such a fine collection of old cars, many of them pre WWII, is the weather of course. It is so dry in these parts that it is not unusual for a car to sit under a tree for thirty years, then, with no more than a new battery and some oil, be started and driven away by its proud new owner.

For my own part i can not meet the purchase price of a vintage car but my own vehicle is getting there slowly, now twenty years old it has run for much of the year and a half since i bought it, without a major service or any expensive repairs. My best estimate is that it costs me less than a third the cost per kilometer that it would to finance and run a late model. Added to this it has about ten cubic meters of load space in the back and a radio which never forgets the preselects for your favorite channels. The radio is manual the gearbox is automatic and most of the time that i spend driving it is a joy. If you offered me a new one i would only take it for the resale value.

For my regulars, thankyou for your continued interest, please excuse the fall in frequency of my posts. My excuse is that my love has withdrawn my welcome at her home and at her computer, partly because i spent so much time in cyber space lately. Ho hum… life is not as amusing without her and her boys to argue with. There is a lot else happening though, which is a good thing right now because i will miss her. I should write a post on the changes she has made in my life during the past two years. Bless you my love, please look after your good self.


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