Yes, at the grand age of 25 with zero (0) kids, no partner, a work commute of three miles three times a week, and an average mileage of around 7,000 miles a year (most of which is leisure), I can officially call myself one of those twats that has two cars to his name.
Does it make any sense in any way whatsoever? Almost certainly not -- this doubles the road tax bill, the insurance, the MOT tests, and the general maintenance required to keep a car running. #YOLO was about the only thing that kept this dream alive.
Why?
I've not bothered telling most people about my new acquisition, because, correctly, it's batshit crazy. Nevertheless, there was and is a reason.
I currently daily drive a lovely 2011 Mini Cooper S, which I adore more than I care to admit. I have to actively monitor myself to make sure it doesn't become 80 percent of my entire personality. It drives like - wait for it - a go-kart, and with its cheeky styling and all-around decent quality, it's something that always puts a huge grin on my face, especially around the slalom of Milton Keynes' roundabouts.
However, said Mini isn't perfect at everything. It's a small car in case you hadn't noticed, which means even a basic food shop just for myself won't all fit in the boot. And when the time comes to pack up and move out of my current apartment shared with two dear pals of mine, forget it. Also, you can't sit anybody behind me, it's a bit thirsty with petrol at times, and it's not exactly a comfortable cruiser (though not as bad as I originally anticipated).
What I wanted was the antidote to the Mini. Something soft, large, and economical. Something cheap, too, that I wouldn't worry about if it got dinged in the car park, or even just shoving it off to the scrapper if it hits the fan and only losing a few hundred quid. Bangernomics, albeit 2023 bangernomics where you can't get a decent car for less than £1,000.
I may be contemptible with two cars, but I'm not a satanist, so SUVs were instantly out of the question. I was naturally drawn to a nice, comfy estate car, and ultimately landed on the mighty Skoda Octavia. The Octavia seems to be a car that ticks all the boxes: it's well-built, well-priced, well-designed, and features parts from the Volkswagen Group -- a company famed (conditionally) for robust, Germanic tools. Plus, I'm starting a new role in Skoda's UK headquarters in March, so it's fate, isn't it?
Meet Gustav, my 2006, 200,000-mile, beige beauty
Gustav also features the legendary 1.9 PD TDI engine from Volkswagen, which is often cited as one of the best consumer diesel engines ever made. I specifically sought out this engine over the technically superior 2.0 TDI, because the idea of having an engine that will outlive cockroaches is immensely satisfying, and it reduces the risk of things going wrong. Plus, on a more superficial level, it's cool owning a piece of history that'll never be recreated again in a world of strict emissions rules and general distaste of the black pump.
The engine is wonderfully characterful, which is to say it's loud, grumbly, and quite old-fashioned. But it pulls super strong from 1500rpm, will easily return over 60mpg on a run, and, like I say, there's essentially nothing on it to go wrong.
Are there issues? Oh, certainly. In no particular order, we have:
- A faulty throttle pedal position sensor (now fixed with a new throttle pedal)
- Slow puncture on the left front tyre
- Weirdly discoloured driver wing mirror glass
- A rattling left rear speaker
- No air con (hard to tell in the winter but I don't think it blows cold)
- Missing locking wheel nut
