This is not really about cars, more a reflection of how I have changed!  But, of course, cars and their engines are the basis for my ramblings.

When I was younger, so much younger, I loved the thrill of speed.  Some of it, not fully legal. Like borrowing my parents’ car when they were out and racing up and down a country road.  Would have been better if I was insured and had a driving licence, I guess.

Also, I got into motorbikes, first a 125cc, then 500cc, then 900cc and on up to a 1200cc.  I would like to say I was gifted, but in reality just bloody lucky.  I used these bikes as a form of transport commuting to work in the centre of London for over a decade.  Just 3 minor accidents and I walked away from each.

Most of the time I was cautious, just staying alive. But when the roads were open, I was awake and then it was time to see how far round the needle could climb on the dials.

Motorbikes were cheap and easy thrills. Imagine buying a car that could do impressive acceleration when you had 2 kids, a mortgage and a stay at home wife who looked after our children. BTW we agreed and she did a great job.

I guess the culmination of my motorbike thrills, although I had one further relapse, was my mid life crisis when I bought a Honda Blackbird.  Smaller engine then my Yamaha at only 1100cc but at the time it was the world’s fastest production motorbike with a top speed of 318 kph (around 200 mph).  I didn’t really enjoy going to work on it, German aggressive drivers, crowded roads and a lot of vibration. BUT coming home, on a summer’s eve, egging on a Porsche or BMW driver, just where the Autobahn became an unlimited speed area and pissing them off!  Their €100,000+ vehicle against my €20,000 or less bike viewing my numberplate.

The bugger was that I had only a short distance until my turnoff, a downhill, 180 bend at 50 kph so decelerating 150 kph!  But that became an art form.

Perhaps the bikes were to make up for my car history both mine and those shared with my wife: Ford Anglia, Ford Capri, Renault 5, Mini Metro, Volvo 340 and a Ford Sierra.  After the divorce, I didn’t need to share a car or use it for every day child transport, so a couple of Land Rovers, with a Ford Cortina in between (only bought to wait for insurance as a Landy was stolen), Peugeot 504, Peugeot 205, Range Rover and a Mazda Tribute.

Apart from the Range Rover, all very modest and to get any excitement involved a straight foot to the floor and lots of stirring the gearbox.  Otherwise practical and largely sensible.  Don’t forget the Land Rover was exported with me to work in Zambia.

So the comparison I draw is that the cars were generally modest, not over powerful, in keeping with a guy working at a central bank.  Cautious and sober minded (but not in body).  Petrol was the essence that fuelled light hearted moments, when the roads were quiet: especially when a motorbike was involved.  But I was always going somewhere, mainly to work, so comfort and some speed was essential.

When I retired, I rebelled against buying a Toyota Hilux pickup as nearly everyone else on the Island has one or a look alike. So I bought an American monster.  Still petrol but with a massive engine that just ticked over climbing hills.  Initially I revelled in kicking down through the automatic gearbox to hear that V8 engine roar.  But over time, I have relaxed and just putter along.

The Monster has been undergoing long delayed maintenance.  Now I no longer retain a lawyer, I have some spare cash so the Check Engine light that has burning for 4 years is hopefully being sorted.  Sadly a 1 day trip has been going on for 4 days and the garage have lent me a pickup.

The irony is that it is a Toyota Hilux and a diesel at that.  Manual gearbox instead of my big American fully Automatic.

But today an epiphany!  On my walk of shame, dispatching 8 cases of empty bottles ( I’ve been lazy rather than thirsty), I noticed the gentle thuck thruck of the engine, didn’t get upset at having change out of first gear as soon as the car started to move and just relaxed driving along in 3rd gear.  The engine just chugged, didn’t vary speed even with my foot bouncing on the pedal in time to the potholes, climbed a hill without any additional pedal pressure.  It is the utmost basic model and I thought, why do I need more?

I’m in no rush to get anywhere, diesel is cheaper than petrol, as is life when you are older – all loans paid off! I guess I should worry about micro particles but having burnt  several holes in the Ozone layer with my Range Rover and American Monster, I guess I am already guilty.

So it looks like I want a diesel replacement so I can chug around the island on cheap fuel?

No!  The thing that blows this whole rambling attempt at petrol head philosophy is that Diesel Road tax is 4 times that of petrol!  So where will my Khama be when faced with  a sodding big bill?  My philosophy had been I would think of an excuse at the Pearly Gates, not pleading innocence beforehand and repenting for the future, however long that may be.

So, hopefully the Monster and I are reunited tomorrow.