I’m not a car guy. At least not in the usual sense of checking the latest models and talking car stuff with buddies. But there are a few cars that I’ve loved. In my first month in Canada, a purchased a 1953 baby blue Mercury Monarch. It was so big I traveled with my skis in the trunk – and felt like I’d already made it in my new country. Then I lost interest when all cars became streamlined with bucket seats. End of fun at the Drive-In! I totally “de-car-ed” for a few years and people would stop and offer me a ride thinking I was poor or something. “No thanks, I like walking.”
The boxy Honda element got me back on the road. I loved its upright driver’s seat – never
understood driving in the slouched coach position. Most people disliked the Element because it didn’t look like a car, which was part of its appeal for me. More recently we switched to the Kia Soul because it looked like the Element, and came in bright colours. How the hell can you find your silver car when the parking lot is full of them? Kato and I are now the proud owners of a Fiat Panda, the most fun small car on the road.
There is another car that also fits this bill, or least it did for people in the 1960s. I would have given anything to own a Renault R4. Looked like it was designed by a toy maker, or his kids. I regularly come across one on the streets in Tavira – and it makes my day. I looked it up, and the Renault R4 had a pet name in every country. In Columbia, ‘Amigo Fiel’ (faithful friend), in Croatia, ‘Mali’ (little giant) and in east Africa, ‘Roho’ (spirit). How cool is that? And did you know that the R4 was the world’s first hatchback?
Did I say I’m not car guy? Yes I am, if it looks like a toy.
