In 1954, I was 17 years old when I found an article in a motoring monthly that lit a fire in my adolescent soul.
It was about a visit to the Lancia factory, and there were detailed descriptions of the Aurelia GT with photos of the car, the engine, the suspension and the transmission.
Like so many young boys, I was fascinated by cars and at around the same time I saw a movie about motor racing in Italy in which the main character drove an Aurelia GT.
I had fantasies of sitting behind the wheel, but knew that this would remain a dream because the price was out of reach for all but the very rich.
In 1961, I got married while I was still at university. My wife’s wage as a nurse was enough to sustain us, but not really sufficient for a car. Nevertheless, I bought a tired Jowett Javelin with some cash my mother lent me.
In 1968 – after many stupid mistakes and a steep learning curve – we had a running Javelin and went on holiday to England and Scotland.
My wife is a very loyal and tolerant woman. I was perfectly happy with the Jowett until 1977, when I came home one evening and my wife told me that a distant acquaintance had telephoned.