comment from The Guardian, 22 September 2011
It started with a shake of the head, and that annoyingly knowing garage mechanic grin. “Well, sir,” he said, and began listing a baffling series of problems to do with tyres, brakes, springs, linings, discs and the exhaust catalyst.
My Saab 900 was in for its MOT, and had failed spectacularly. The minimum cost to make it roadworthy, the mechanic told me, would be £2,240 - though he would recommend additional repairs amounting to well over £3,000.
It was then I knew that my 11-year-old, 120,000-mile affair was over. The car that had played the soundtracks to my summer holidays, taken my Mum and Dad to the beach, and seen my girls become women, had to go.
I hadn’t meant to become emotionally attached to a large lump of polluting plastic, glass and metal, but it happened. So when the Saab was transported up the street on its way to the scrapyard, I felt an unexpected pang.
That was over a year ago now, and in recent days I’ve been assessing what we decided to do next. My partner and I thought we would try, for the first time in 25 years, to manage without owning a car. If it didn’t work, we said, we could always buy another one.