Old cars we knew - funny stories

Lived in a rather salubrious district. Date called to take me to dinner. On arriving outdoors I said jokingly 'would you look at what someone has parked in our street' and referred to an ancient black Rover opposite. Of course, I only wanted to curl up and die when discovering it was his! Have to confess, I've never ridden in a more comfortable vehicle before or since. Real leather bucket seats. Bliss.

brake - so much for auto correct!

My first car (excluding the two rustbucket A40 vans I bought my fiance) was a Ford Anglia - one of those with the back window slanted towards the front seats. I had only had it a few weeks and was driving into work down the North Circular Road when the accelerator got stuck down. I was frantically standing on the break trying not to hit the car in front. Then smoke started coming out of the bonnet. I managed to bump it onto the grass verge and tried to turn off the ignition, but it just kept going with the key out. I guessed it was only a matter of time before the flames engulfed it. I leapt out of the car and ran off to the underground station! When I returned in the evening, it was a blackened wreck.

Brilliant anecdotes. Thanks ladies. Gave me a laugh. Cars are a bit boring these days aren’t they ???. Our kids won’t have such good stories to tell. I recall dad driving us to Cornwall from Yorkshire. We had an estate and he put a mattress in the back. My brother and I slept on it all the way down. For once I wasn’t car sick!! We always had loads of kids piled in the back in those days.

Where to start?

Before I knew him, OH had a car whose engine dropped out while he was driving it.

We had a car that had a hole in the roof, but there was also one in the floor, so they cancelled each other out.

Another blew up on the motorway - that's how it sounded, anyway, with a huge bang and loss of all engine power.

One was stolen by joyriders (can't think why they took an old banger when there were plenty of better cars around). The funny part was the reaction of a French guest we had at the time, when a policeman turned up at our nartowboat to say that it had been found in a field, and we offered him a glass of wine (Saturday evening). She was horrified by our offer, and totally speechless when he accepted (then drove OH to collect it)! .

I once locked the keys in that same car, and a lady in the supermarket car park with a similar model was bemused when I asked to borrow her keys and was able to unlock my car with them.

I think that was the same car that I once ran over someone's foot with too.

The next car leaked oil like mad. Partly because of that and partly because of the number plate, we soon nicknamed it the Exxon Valdez. It didn't last long - one end of the exhaust dropped to the road late one night when OH was driving the babysitter home, and it was beyond repair after that.

Another broke down on the motorway, then the recovery vehicle also broke down.

Oh, and going back to an earlier car, I can tell you that tights do not make a good replacement for a broken fan belt. Mine only got us about 50 yards before they were shredded!

All but one of our cars have been very old when bought, so I could go on ... .

I hate cars.

We had an Austin 1100 which, although it looked smart outside, was falling into bits inside. The floor had holes in and if we drove over a puddle the front passenger had to lift her/his feet up in the air or get a soaking! To this day I have to resist the urge to lift my feet when I see a puddle on the road (not when I'm driving, of course!)

Good grief. The brake, not break. What a dreadful error. Yes, brake. The hand brake.

My mother, somewhat eccentric, had a passion for Morris Travellers. We must have had 4 or 5 as I was growing up.

I was used to seeing a wooden toilet brush on the floor by her feet. I never actually asked what this was for. But recall her battling with the brush with what I assume was the break.

Obviously wasn't working properly.

I was surprised to learn that not everyone had one of these in their cars

My first car was a white Fiat 500 with ‘suicide’ doors. One night it was running out of petrol so my friend and I stopped at an unattended self service garage.
We put a £5 note in the pump - but the tank only held about £3 worth! We couldn’t stop the pump, so half the petrol ended up in the boot (in the front) and all over the garage forecourt. Loved my Riley Kestrel later - duck egg blue with cream leather upholstery and thick cream carpets - luxury!

Reading through these fantastic anecdotes inspires me to ask: When did MOT tests become compulsory?

In 1964 my dad bought a Robin Reliant 3 wheeler (think Del Boy!) because he used to have a motorbike and didn’t need to pass another driving test to have one of these bone shakers. Oh my. My sister & I were both under 11y and the back seat was a board with a length of foam cushion. Rock hard but we were young and skinny so we didn’t notice any discomfort! And didn’t our little family of 4 feel stylish - no need any more to get 2 buses each way in the Old Trafford rain to visit our auntie and uncle in Oldham. Warm, dry and grateful - door to door. It was marvellous.

My dad always said ‘3rd class driving beats 1st class walking’. Whenever we passed another Robin Reliant the 2 drivers would give a thumbs up or flash the headlights if it was dark. Happy days!

PS There are a few other stories about that car, but I won't take up any more space, except to say that all these took place in the 1960s when I was young and fit!

In Kenya, I had a Morris 1100, not the best vehicle for dirt roads and bashing around the bush. At one stage, it kept cutting out and the dealer told me the problem was a lead from the pump to the engine and a part was ordered from a supplier. It too so long that I decided to sort it out myself and put a piece of Elastoplast over the suspect lead. I had no more trouble and the spare part never appeared. The sticking plaster was still there a year later when I exchanged the car for a much more reliable VWBeetle 1300. On another occasion, the Morris's horn hooted every time I opened the driver's door. I took it upon myself to remove the fuse controlling the horn and drove down the the city to have it fixed. On the way, I was stopped by the police who made spot checks on road-worthiness and often asked to hear the horn. I was all ready to explain why my horn wouldn't work when they informed me that they weren't testing horns that day. Whew!

Love these stories! Foxie48, yours reminds me of that Fawlty Towers when John Cleese berates his car with a branch from a tree.

My Dh had a Triumph Herald which could only be accessed via the boot as the doors both stopped opening. On one journey, the gear stick just came off in his hand. That was fun.

We had a Mini Cooper that used to burn more oil than petrol and an MGA to which you had to hold the passenger door closed. That car also leaked round the windscreen in the rain so I had to keep some rags for mopping up and wring them out of the window as we scooted along country lanes.

My brother’s first car was a Morris van which he handed-painted green. He carpeted it but in wet weather the carpets floated due to the holes in the floor. It had no windscreen washer so he used to open the window and squirt it with water from an old Fairy Liquid bottle. He used it to squirt it at pretty girls, too, to get their attention - he’d probably be locked up for that nowadays! ?

It’s another world, isn’t it?

In the sixties, three of us went to Spain in a three wheeled bubble car! Yes, three of us! The whole of the front opened and we all sat along the front seat with the little space behind full of our clothes. On the way back, one of the wheels fell off! We were very lucky that it happened on the way back as we were travelling along a wide road whereas on the way there we had followed the coast road for the Costa Brava which was quite narrow and perilous.
This story’s claim to fame is that it was read out on the radio show ‘Home Truths’. A bit touched with sadness really as it was the week following the death of the lovely John Peel.

My first car was a Citroen Diane which wouldnt start in 1st gear but would in 2nd if you revved hard enough.

Our first car was an old Hillman Minx estate. One day, whilst a long way from home, it started making a racket, hubby said the big end had gone, so he slowed down a lot to try and reduce the noise. Then we got a puncture, by the time we got home the car was making a hell of a row, and there was no tyre left, just the metal wheel. The car didn`t last too long after that!

foxie48 that reminds me of a very daft thing I did. Peugeot mentioned earlier had a headlight which dropped out now and again. I used to get out and bash it back in. I was driving down a road when a policeman in a yellow jacket appeared at the side of the road with his hand up. I stopped, ran round the front of the car, hit the headlight, turned and shouted “it’s ok I thought it had fallen off again”, got back in the car and drove off. I later realised he was looking for speeding cars!!! He looked utterly stunned. Poor man ???

We had just finished our honeymoon up in FortWilliam and driving to our new home in Wokingham. We got to a roundabout outside Watford (as of Gap) when the exhaust dropped with a clatter. We stopped, I quickly got my honeymoon silk scarf and tied the exhaust back up. The traffic around obviously thought we had chosen to park in the middle of the roundabout and were hooting at us!!

My first car was a Morris Minor with an electrical petrol pump which often stopped working so I'd grind to a halt. I carried a heavy stick in the car with which to give the pump a sharp tap to get it started. I stopped at a busy roundabout in the morning rush hour and got some very strange looks when I leapt out, opened the bonnet and seemingly hit the engine until I could hear the pump tick then drive away! Although I can never remember the reg numbers of later cars, I can remember this, 4333 RE.

Not mine - my mother’s first car was an old Mini. When it finally gave up the ghost, it was left on the drive for a while until they got around to getting someone to take it for scrap.

Meanwhile, one of those little rear windows on very old Minis had been left sufficiently open for a robin to investigate and think, ‘Wow - great place for my nest!’

So it was a few more months before the poor old Mini finally went to its resting place.

My first car was an old Mini, too.
I once drove it to a granny’s house 60 odd miles away, where it promptly landed me with a flat tyre, and I hadn’t a clue how to change the wheel.

My mother said, ‘Ring the AA.’
‘But I’m not a member!’
‘Tell them that if they come, you’ll join.’
So I did, and they did. ?

Laughing lots at the image of string on wipers ! Brilliant ??

Mid 70’s a Riley Elf with rusted hinges on the drivers door so it dropped to the ground when opened. Manageable until I got stopped for a rear light out, then it was embarrassing in front of the policeman. And, I think it was a cortina with broken wipers, we both had string tied to them through the side windows when it hurled with rain, very naughty. Polarbear2 my DH used to do that in Belfast, cars were often close to the edge of legal. As the powers that be were ever so slightly busy with other goings on the chances of getting booked were rare.

In the sixties we went to the South of France with two friends and a tent, in a clapped-out old banger. Going over the Alps it seized up completely and billowed steam. Luckily it was downhill to the nearest village, so we coasted down and into a garage, where a hole was found in the radiator. The marvellous mechanic fixed it.
DH, as he was to become, was a bit of an electrical engineer, so he had connected up his electric razor in the front passenger glove compartment, to use while the engine was running. Oncoming drivers were treated to the sight of what they thought was the driver peering into a mirror and shaving while the car sped along the road. There were some horrified Frenchmen!

Also remember no synchromesh on first gear! It was a challenge on hills ?