My first dream car
When I turned 17, I finished high school and set my sights on going to university. For this I needed a car, and my father had a friend who had a car dealership. As a result, I commuted to classes in an old Austin A55, a car that promised to be reliable, though about as flashy as my auntie’s brown teapot. After a couple of years, and several well-paying summer jobs, I bought my dream car. Well, it was a student-on-a-budget’s dream car. It was a Volvo PV 544. I loved that car and quickly added a blue racing stripe and a specially tuned exhaust.
Later in life, I purchased a succession of cars, some quirky like the ancient Volkswagen minibus I tried, and failed, to drive over the Rockies. Some were practical like the grey station wagon I bought after the birth of our son.