We've all experienced that moment of butt clenching apprehension when we pass a gritter on the motorway. It lasts as long as the next available exit to examine any wounds to our pride and joy. Even longer if that little grain of carbon strength salt has managed to carve an incredible likeness of the Grand Canyon into the bonnet. We bear these risks and take it all as one of the joys of motoring. There must be another way.
My favourite pair of comfy shoes is my 2004 Kia Sedona TDi. Yes, it has more battle scars than Sergeant Elias, it has an aroma that combines dock sick, cigarette smoke, wet hair and diesel but the truth is I don't care. I find my "lessez faire" approach to this banger liberating. If the girlfriend rolls a shopping trolley into it at the supermarket, am I instantly enrolling in a correctional counselling course with Wife Beaters Anonymous? If that scallywag who dented the door fails to see this rather large car and reverses into, am I grabbing the next available appointment with an anger management specialist? No. I.... Don't.... Care....
Does my Kia look good cruising down the motorway? Can it do a power slide on a good bend? Of course none of these. It doesn't even look good parked next to a Nissan Cube. None of this matters - I still love it like a ginger step child.
I'm not suggesting for a second that you sell your 911 or EBay your GTR. Just honour the trusty steed in your stable for what it is: a comfortable pair of shoes.
