It is said that you cannot buy style. I beg to differ.
It had been getting increasingly worrisome for some time now, but no, this time the gearlever was most definitely jammed. Having engaged reverse as I slotted the Peugeot into a Camden Town parking space one balmy post-Millennial Sunday afternoon, it hadn’t as yet dawned upon me that for the rest of my tenure, not only would I neither reverse this car, nor parallel park it again. The fact that the 304 was going nowhere – except nominally in reverse – had largely carjacked all further thought. That, and the question of what the loving hell I was going to do now? Continue reading “History in Cars – A Bottle of Evening in Paris Perfume”