This was a car with a voice: Its engine note, a deep, powerful burble, was as distinct to me as the voices of my parents and friends, but then a lot of other cars had voices too. Triumph Heralds purred, Rover 100s, the ones with St Bernard dog profiles, made a soft, almost musical whining sound when setting off sedately from traffic lights, Morris Minors blew flatulent rasThis was a car with a voice: Its engine note, a deep, powerful burble, was as distinct to me as the voices of my parents and friends, but then a lot of other cars had voices too. Triumph Heralds purred, Rover 100s, the ones with St Bernard dog profiles, made a soft, almost musical whining sound when setting off sedately from traffic lights, Morris Minors blew flatulent raspberries when they slowed down. I’d hear these things and assumed other people did too.As a car-obsessed child of the 1960s, Martin Gurdon lived in a lost world of bubble cars and Ford Anglias, a place where dads took spare gearboxes on holiday and cars were frequently fixed at the roadside.A 1970s family crisis saw him sent to relatives in rural Lancashire, before spending five dysfunctional years at a vegetarian boarding school, where cars were both his salvation and undoing, thanks to an illicitly acquired Triumph Herald. He’s since driven everything from supercars to ?25 Morris Marinas and been stalked with murderous intent by Reliant Robins.As iconic, and sometimes spectacularly awful vehicles passed through his hands, Martin dreamed of owning an exotic Bristol 401 like his dad’s, and of writing about cars, but would anyone ever be mad enough to let him…?Car fans and car agnostics alike will love An Estate Car Named Desire’s eccentric cast of wheeled and human characters....
|Title||:||estate car named desire an a life on the road|
|Format Type||:||Kindle Edition|
|Number of Pages||:||256 Pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
estate car named desire an a life on the road Reviews
Unless you are really unfortunate, your car today will almost certainly start first time, be warm, dry and traffic allowing, you will make it to your destination with no dramas. However, motoring in the 1960’s when Martin Gurdon was growing up, was an adventure in itself. Cars could frequently be seen by the side of the road with the bonnets raised and steam coming out; it was not uncommon to take a full toolset and a spare gearbox, just in case… Gurdon’s fascination with all things with wheels was borderline obsession, he could tell the just from the note of the exhaust, what car was passing, by reading every detail in magazines he could glance at a car and tell just how rare it was. This just seemed normal, surely everyone was like this; weren’t they?Then his happy childhood broke down; his mother’s illness caused a family crisis and he was dispatched to her sister in Lancashire. His new school tolerated him, but his father made the decision to bring him down closer to home and placed him in a vegetarian boarding school. So begins the final five years of his flawed education, an experience that he tolerated because of his continued obsession with cars, and the thrill of acquiring a Triumph Herald for illicit trips out. Stumbling out of school with no idea what he wanted to do, he ends up in a couple of dead end jobs, frequently visiting the job centre before slowly realising that writing might be something he could do, and if he could write about cars, that would be just about perfect.Gurdon is his capacity as a motoring journalist has had the privilege of driving some of the world fastest cars, but he served his motoring apprenticeship in the appalling cars that were produced in the seventies, Reliant Robins, Morris Marinas, 2CVs; he is lucky to be alive after reading about some of the scrapes that he got into. Nostalgia seeps from this book like oil from a leaking head gasket and whilst Gurdon acknowledges that some of the cars he owned were dreadful, we see others through the rose-tinted windscreen, in particular his fond memories of his father’s Bristol 401, a car he loved so much, he bought one of his own. There are several laugh out loud parts in this book and a few of what my eldest would call ‘facepalm’ moments. Good stuff and an ideal book for your friendly petrol head.