Over my 10 years of classic car ownership, I have broken down whilst taking my cat to the vets, had my headlights give up on me whilst driving on the motorway at night and had to drive 50 miles home without a clutch by entering roundabouts, at speed, in third gear and praying to the classic car gods that there wasn’t a car already on the road. I’ve been late to university because I couldn’t open my frozen-over lock. I then proceeded to leave my car unlocked all day on the slightly unnerving streets of Leicester City because I couldn’t lock my car again upon arrival. I’ve yelled. I’ve cried. I’ve bashed. Why, you may ask, do I and thousands of others subject ourselves to this stress and frustration? Well, because when they are running sweetly, and you change gear with conviction, when you feel every corner, when you have to work as a team with your steed, when kids shout ‘I like your car!!’ with beaming faces, when you finally make it to your destination whether that be 5 miles down the road or 500 miles and three days later, you feel a sense of achievement and alliance. You pat your steering wheel, switch off the candle-bright lights, and look forward to your next drive, thinking, ‘that was fun!’

Science has shown that the desire for fun isn’t one just found in humans but also in animals like cats, dogs, birds, and even crocodiles. Fun has been linked to lower obesity, lower crime rates and higher creativity. Once we ‘grow up’, fun is something that can often be looked down upon, citing lack of professionalism. We are often made to believe that ‘play’ is only for kids and that although grown ups can have fun, it should be strictly limited and outweighed by an ever increasing workload for fear of being labelled as irresponsible. This is where classic cars come in.

Every drive with a classic car is an adventure, a little risky. By driving these ma- chines daily under the grown up guise of commuting, we join the secret club of the grown ups who like to have fun. The big kids with the adult money. Squeez- ing through a gap in traffic that only a classic Mini can squeeze through feels like a small triumph to start my day. Sandwiched in traffic between a brown Vauxhall Mokka and a silver Nissan Juke, the classic car driver is reminded that there are still ways to fight against an ever increasing beige world. We add a pinch of elegant thrill into our daily lives which becomes addictive.

As the world moves forwards and further from traditional engines, I sincerely hope that generations to come will continue to desire the daily escapade of classic car ownership. I hope these cars continue to enrich our roads with their grace. I hope they are able to fall in love with the roar of a 3.8 Series 1 E-Type at 4,000 rpm echoing from every leaf of a tree lined stretch of tarmac in evening light. I hope they keep these combustion chrome jewels alive. I hope.