Since Moni moved to Prague, I've been looking after her Nissan Micra. Built in 2005, its first owner was the mother of a classmate from Moni's school, from whom she bought it in 2020. Living in Warsaw, Moni didn't put many miles on the clock, and since leaving it with me in December 2023, the car is used minimally. One round trip a week to Lidl in Warka, about 40km. As of this morning, 143,106 kilometres on the clock (88,921 miles), of which I did about 3,200 km over the past 12 months. This means I need to fill the car up at the petrol station four or five times a year, once every 750 km.
Electric front windows (rear windows are hand-wound) is the only concession to modern motoring to be found in the car. No air-con, manual gear change, old-school radio. Ah! It does have keyless locking (what happens when the battery expires? Then you prise off the cover of the door handle, and put the key in the lock...)
My social-media feeds bombard me with ads for new cars. But I will not buy a new car. Now, let's consider what would happen if eight billion people were to suddenly say that 1.5 billion cars is enough for our planet and would stop buying new cars. If Europeans were to say that 260 million cars is more than enough for the European Union (of 450 million people). There'd be enough cars to keep us all motoring for a long, long time. Those existing cars could keep going for decades (just look at Cuba). Their value would go up as supplies of new cars begin to run dry. Scrapyards would empty as parts get cannibalised to keep existing cars roadworthy. Job losses in the factories would be replaced by new jobs in remanufacturing.
I don't need a car that's a stuffed full of electronics, with touchscreens, maps and other gizmos that beep. I need a speedometer, odometer/trip meter, petrol gauge and indicator lights. Even a rev counter is optional. Mirrors and seats – manually adjustable. Manual gear change (or course). A simple, basic car with an emphasis on sustainability – extreme long life, modular design so elements that wear out can be easily swapped.
The Micra passed its MOT last summer but with a note of caution that rust is beginning to take hold of the undersides; so 2,000zł-worth of welding had that sorted out. I'd rather keep piling money into an old car than buy a new one.
Car aesthetics are immensely important to me. The way cars look influence the visual appeal of the built landscape. They are as important as architecture. But a question for myself: do I simply like old cars because they remind me of my childhood? Or was car design intrinsically better in the 1960s than it is today? Safety is important; how much of today's automotive aesthetic is the result ot safety considerations (crash-proof cages, bonnets shaped to minimise injuries to pedestrians etc) and how much is that 'creased-tin' look that car makers consider to be in vogue?
This is what I like. On my way from Kraków Główny yesterday to the Schindler's Factory museum, I passed a superb collection of historic Mercedes-Benz vehicles in the shopping mall by the station. These included replicas of the first Benz motorcycle and car, pre-WW1 Benzes, interwar cars (including the only small, rear-engined Mercedes-Benz, and postwar classics. Don't know whether my favourite was the 'gullwing' 300SL or the 'pagoda' 230 SL (below). Could I see myself owning one and driving to Warka to do the weekly shopping? "Jeez, what a waste of machinery!"
I'm not a mechanic; can't find my way around a screwdriver; under my ownership, entropy would take hold; things would fail, bits would break – and rust never sleeps. I don't dream of owning a classic car, but I do waste an inordinate amount of time ogling CarandClassic.com looking at them and simply imagining what it would be like to own one. It's the same with toy cars. Corgi, Dinky and Matchbox – from my childhood – remembering the qualia of playing with them, opening their little doors, tipping forward the little seats... But while I get the Corgi Club newsletter and read excitedly about the new releases of 1960s toys, complete with replica boxes, perfectly made, I know that actually getting one would disappoint and would not bring back those exact qualia memories. I can conjure them up in my mind better. Same with a classic car. I can smell the interior of a classic British car of the 1950s and 1960s. I can perfectly picture the engine bay under the bonnet, the exact shade of green of a BMC cylinder head, the air filter in black (with rust colouration), and hear the sound of a Morris Minor changing down from third gear to second.
And at the wheel of the Nissan Micra, I can be driving anything I imagine. Sedately. Taking it easy for all the sinners on the roads. Like the chap in the black SUV who overtook me at 90+ km/h in a 50km/h zone with double white lines in the middle of the road today. Below: my 1932 Deuce Coupe, my 1949 Dodge Power Wagon, my 1953 Chevrolet Thriftmaster 1⁄2-ton truck, my 1956 Oldsmobile 88. As I drive from Chynów to Warka through Wygodne, Michalczew and Gośniewice. Orchards, crossroads, warehouses, electricity cables stretched above the road, the two-lane blacktop ahead of me, it's all in the mind.
The automotive industry has lost its way. A good time to turn from making ego-boxes for the insecure to building armoured fighting vehicles to boost Europe's defences in an age of Putin and Trump.
This time last year:
Gdynia
This time two years ago:
Covid is over; what did we learn?
[Covid finally caught up with me seven months later]
This time four years ago:
Blossom time in Jakubowizna
Busy doing nothin'
This time 11 years ago:
Springtime pictorial
This time 12 years ago:
Kitten time!
This time 12 years ago:
Warsaw-Centrum to Jeziorki by train with super-wide lens
This time 14 years ago:
Loose Lips Sink Ships - part II
This time 15 years ago:
Jeziorki in the infra red
[Photos by the late Rysiek Szydło]
This time 16 years ago:
Some rain, at last!
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