Dreams that Never Fade

I owned my first Porsche at the age of 5. It was petrol blue with a black interior, about 8 inches long, with all the bits: gearstick, steering wheel, rubber tyres, window wipers. I loved it. Sod the dolls and teddy bears – I took my Porsche everywhere with me. My cousin Richard broke the gearstick off it one day and I can still feel the rage when I think about it – I have never forgotten, and will never forgive him.

I love cars. I inherited this personality trait from my Dad and it’s a passion that has (largely, but not exclusively) prevented me being wealthy for all of my adult life. I’ve gladly squandered thousands of pounds on depreciation, insurance, petrol and dealers commissions over the years. My ownership pedigree reads like a hot-hatch-hot-picks listing: Peugeot 205 Gti (the 1.6 before you ask – I was 18 and £1700 third party insurance was enough of a stretch already), Nova SRi, Nova GSi, Peugeot 106 GTi, Golf GTi Turbo, BMW 316i, 320i, 325i and 330i (FAB car!!) in succession, Astra 2.0 Turbo, and I currently have a MINI Cooper S. My love affair with fast cars knows no bounds, and I have my sights set on an ultimate goal – one day I will own a real Porsche (a 911. However contentious, a Boxter is not a Porsche as far as I am concerned).

I have never even sat in one before – I made a pact with myself in my teenage years that I wouldn’t even sit in a Porsche until I was test driving one for myself. The second clause was that I would never test drive a Porsche until I could genuinely afford to have a Porsche – no finance, and no heart attacks when it came to servicing it.

Who knows if I will in my lifetime take my seat in ‘my’ Porsche (you never know, I might win the Lottery and buy 2!), but it’s a dream that never fades, and that’s a really important thing.