There’s an old saying about never going back.
In a sense it’s true, but with cars we can relive some of our youth – even if it means doing so with a bit more weight, less hair and a slightly more measured approach to how we drive.
In the early ’80s I earned my degree from the school of auto hard knocks.
Bad cars and poor maintenance resulted in a series of duds that ended up junked or sold on.
Eventually, I found my ‘roadmate’ in a 1973 Datsun 240Z that was reliable, quick and sleek.
I drove it more than 50,000 miles and it never let me down, but after three years I moved on to a 1976 Porsche 911S.
I quickly embraced the marque and over the ensuing decades I bought, sold and drove the wheels off a dozen 911s up to my current neunelfer pair, a 1996 993 turbo and a 1985 Carrera 3.2.
I rarely looked back or even thought about my former cars, with one exception: the Z.
When occasionally I saw one, I recalled my ’73 and the many road trips with my girlfriend.
By today’s standards, Datsun 240Zs are primitive and underpowered, but 40 years ago they were sexy imports with kerb appeal and performance to match.