Friday, 2 July 2010

Farewell to the Skoda

It's official - the Storm Trooper has died. So-called for resembling the helmets worn by Chancellor Palpatine's Imperial Army, Patrick's beautiful, white Y-reg Skoda Fabia has failed its MOT, and with £300 worth of work needed to bring it up to acceptable standards, we have decided to stop throwing good money after bad, and just get rid.

I have therefore decided to bid the Storm Trooper a little farewell with this post.

I first encountered the car in August 2006, when I broke my ankle and Patrick very kindly offered to drive me round in return for help with a presentation he was planning to make. Just watching him parallel park was enough to make me fall head-over-heels in love - I never actually helped him with that presentation, but decided to cook him an amazing moussaka (he hates aubergines) and ply him with alcohol - the rest, as they say, is history!

It managed to carry us all the way to Cognac in April 2007, despite the snow in Versailles. And yes, that little tent was where we slept that night. I have never been so cold in my entire life. Patrick has never been so frightened that I was going to yell at him for encouraging me to camp!

When we moved to London that August, we managed to transport my two-seater Ikea Ektorp sofa bed (and those babies are HEAVY!) on the roof. It saved me hours and hours of time hanging out in somebody's armpit (i.e. using the London Underground) when I had to travel to such random places as Horsham and Chesham, where there are always branches of Waitrose and shops that sell Venetian masks, for work.

While I have resented its lack of air-conditioning, its extremely obnoxious alarm bleep, and the fact that it goes from 0-60 in approximately 4 minutes, it has been a good little car, and we will miss it. We will definitely have to spend part of the £350 that have offered on a drink to raise to its memory.

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