I’ve been a petrolhead almost from birth. It’s something I got from my father, and that my eight-year-old son has inherited – he’s a huge AC Cobra fan.
My passion for American muscle cars was probably inspired by growing up watching The Dukes of Hazzard and Smokey and the Bandit.
From a young age I fell in love with the sound of a V8 – something that hasn’t diminished with age – and I now appreciate the different V8 noises from the quiet burble of a Rolls, to the throaty roar of something like my ’71 Mustang.
I bought my first classic at the age of 30, a Rover P6 2000SC I saw advertised on a classified board at Ford’s Dunton site.
It was in good, usable condition and my wife and I drove it to shows at the weekends; luckily, I married a petrolhead.
But as much as the P6 was a great car, it was far from the classic of my dreams. I sold it on and went without classics for a few years due to most of my spare time being taken up by a young family.
Then, in my early 40s, I was in a position to buy another and this time the search was on for something from across the pond.
