Classic Cars – Something to Remember

As a classic car enthusiast, I am often asked… why? The question normally comes from people who drive Nissan Qashqais without the slightest hint of regret, but I digress. The point is, the question comes up whenever I leave the comfort zone of the people I already know. Because I only know ‘car people’. And my cats. Anyway, when I’m asked, there is an entire arsenal of reasons from which I can pluck an answer. I like them, they have soul, they look better than a Nissan Qashqai, they’re fun, they’re not a Nissan Qashqai, you get the idea. More often than not, though, my ‘go to’ revolves around the notion of classic cars being a link to the past. A gateway through which the mind can wander back to times gone by. I argue, usually fruitlessly because people who buy Nissan Qashqais don’t understand, that classic cars are more than machines, they are a tangible, a means to remember, an often perfectly preserved link to the past.

And I don’t just mean our motoring past. Sure, my 23 year-old Rover reminds me of being 16 and unencumbered with the stresses of adult life, but it also reminds me of the time as a whole. The people, the friends, the music, the culture, the drinking of cider in a park (what, we all did it… right?). The car reminds us of more than just the car. For those of us who are into cars, sure, the car is a point on which to focus. Remembering what we did with said car, where we went, the adventures we had, the fact we paid £500 for it when they’re selling for £20k now (looking at you, hot hatches). But even for us enthusiasts, the classic car then opens up into a world of other memories. Lost loves, holidays, more cider in the park. Bliss.

And this is why classic cars are important as a whole, and why it always pays to offer them some attention. My mother doesn’t know the firing order of an MGB, nor can she tell you what the Hoffmeister Kink is, but she will tell you with genuine, heartfelt enthusiasm about her years as a trainee nurse, her time courting the lads, her old house she shared with my aunt and gran and more… if you start her off by mentioning the Datsun 120Y – the car she had at the time. The car is the memorable fulcrum on which the door to these memories is hinged.

And this extends even further. Ask someone with no interest in cars what their first toaster was. They’ll look at you like you should be sectioned. Ask them to tell you, in detail, about their first TV and they’ll literally start backing away. Ask them to paint you a metaphorical picture of their first pair of shoes and they will run away. Ask them, however, what their first car was, and they will beam and tell you with enthusiasm. Cars transcend their function in that way. We remember them in more vivid detail than anything else, though their ability to transport (sorry) us back in time will, ironically, bring them closer to being able to remember what toaster they had at the time.

This ability is a huge part of the reason why I love classic cars. I love seeing them at shows and get a giddy thrill when I can link one into my own history. The Skoda Estelle was not a dynamic or exciting car, but when I see one, I smile as I remember with near perfect recall, being in the showroom in 1989 when mum and dad ordered theirs. If I see a Ford Capri don’t bother talking to me, I’m already gone, thinking of the days when I ‘helped’ my dad work on his. I don’t do this when I see a VHS player.

And this ability to make me remember has been a huge influence on me in terms of the cars I have owned. I have had five Capris over the years, all because my father had one. I had a Mk2 Zodiac because my dad had manuals for them that I used to thumb through as a kid. My 23 year-old Rover that transports me back to being 16? My boss had one at the time and I vowed that one day, I would to. Without the past we can’t appreciate what we have now, we can’t see how we have grown, how our lives have changed and we can’t fully appreciate how we as people have changed. And that is why I like classic cars. They give us a direct line into those memories. They remind us not of better times (though that is of course often the case) but of different times. I like that. And even people with no interest in cars like that, too. Classic cars have that power over everyone. That, dear reader, is why I’m into classic cars.