When I was seven, in 1980, my grandmother gave me a model of a Porsche 928 to assemble and paint in a vibrant metallic blue.
My experience of cars had been limited to the likes of Vauxhall Cavaliers, Ford Escorts and Austin Allegros; a bigwig at my father’s office may have had a Granada, but foreign cars were experienced as fleeting glimpses, owned by mysterious people with the money or character to desire more exotic transport.
The Porsche 928, then recently launched in 1978 with its integral bumpers, spaceship-like design and 4.5-litre V8, fell into that category.
I was in awe of my new toy when it was completed.
A friend’s successful father had a bright red 928 S (a real one), and I remember being cocooned in one of its small, leather rear seats on various short journeys.
The memory stuck, and in 2016 I finally acquired my own full-sized 928.
I wanted the cleaner, spoiler-free lines of an earlier car, combined with a manual ’box, but only 10% of 928s were produced with a stick shift so I gave up looking for one after a year and concentrated on finding my ideal colour and interior with the automatic gearbox option.