I’ve spent the past week looking for a replacement for our pampered Discovery, which decided 9 years and 80,000 miles of good care and pampered living was more than enough for one outrageously expensive engine… so snapped it’s crank and b🤬ered it’s pistons, rods and block for good measure. “They all do that, Sir” was not a helpful assessment from our local specialist. I’d only popped to get some milk !
Anyway, there are probably a few too many cars here right now, including the black NA Le Mans, which is in the process of a slow nut and bolt restoration. Nevertheless, a dead car is an excuse for a new car, so I’ve been checking out a few ‘workhorses’ (in the gentlest sense of the word - a bike rack, muddy teenagers, and an occasional horse box is the extent of its labours.) Had a look at a Shogun, a Pathfinders a couple of trucks (Ranger, Navara) and a pretty cool G-wagon.
Then this happened.
Me: “I’m popping out to look at a replacement for the Disco”
some hours later
Mrs GTA: “Why is there an MX5 in the drive?”
Me: 
