‘BABY YOU CAN DRIVE MY CAR’

I first met my husband at a tea party hosted by a vicar and his wife one Sunday afternoon in September 1983. We immediately got into an argument about the locality – myself defending our nearby town and area where I had lived all my life, and he – a newcomer, working locally but originally from Essex and Kent. This high-toned conversation gave some amusement and a sparkle to the tea, and the spark continued into the evening when I passed my car keys across the table. A small gesture made without conscious thought or design, but a big step which set the course of the next 40 years. The car in question was a particularly smart damson coloured MGBGT – and me the proud owner and not too keen on taking passengers, let alone permitting someone else to take the wheel!
I suppose cars still have a certain prestige or image value, although I’ve long since lost interest – apart from the nostalgic Classic Car Show, equipped with camera and hankies… But in France, we did by chance, part exchange our very basic little Citroen C3 (bought just before leaving England with a view to moving across La Manche), for a rather snazzy Citroen Loeb – a ‘speciality’ car named after the iconic French racing driver Sebastien Loeb…. although we found this out later. It was certainly a head-turner, especially when driving slowly through small towns and villages where young men would pause in their beers at the outside bars to follow us with their heads and eyes.
I’m afraid that I’ve become rather lazy and reluctant to drive these days – leaving it to my husband who takes it all in his stride – maybe it all started back at that tea party with the small gesture or indication of trust.
Attached are 3 photos – one of my original and much loved MG and 2 of the racy Citroen Loeb – one with our Eriba in tow – another road classic!

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