Sleep tight in car heaven my orange amigo!

Good Evening, 

Today is a sad day. Today I have lost a good friend of mine and one that I think I will never forget. My first. My one and only. My beautiful Vivienne. 

Back in the throes of my youth in the warm weather of 2016's October, I met my Vivienne at a local reputable dealership. Taking public transport to a dealership I had my heart set on the 2011-plate little orange Ford Fiesta. A five-door hatchback with a 1.4L engine was everything I had ever hoped and dreamt for in my first car and with its high specification including a multifunctional steering wheel, automatic headlights and rain sensors she was certainly a thing of beauty. Small enough for little old me and big enough for the Doggy and other half during road-trips I was certainly excited to test drive the autumnal-coloured runabout and even more anxious to hear about what packaged I could choose from. 

I was financing the car, and whilst I did consider a brand spanking new motor at the time, the fact that it would depreciate by over a third just by driving it off the forecourt was a huge factor in why I chose second-hand over new. With one previous owner, no noticeable damage or scratches to her paintwork and a clean interior she was perfect. And so my little tangerine-coloured car was named Vivienne, after the flame-haired fashionista that is Vivienne Westwood. I think it fits and I have since found out that the Ford Fiesta orange hue does not come as standard and the previous owner must have paid a good deal of money for a paint job as good as what my Viv has. A special one of a kind you might say. Unique - Just like her owner! I was certainly eager to collect her and after a few weeks, our Vivienne was settling into her new home just right. The following few months lots of changes in my life including a brand new job and a serious amount of Adulting! 

Over the coming months that turned into years and my beloved Vivienne took many road trips; York where we drove for nearly five and a half hours because I didn't quite realise that the speed limit was 70mph and I was pootling along at 60mph. Then there was The Peak District where we struggled up hills and a crossed snowy mountains. The multiple trips to the seaside with our puppy and even facilitating us to take our poor puppy to the vets on the odd occasion. Countless shopping trips and visiting new places or seeing friends and family. It was on one of these occasions a few weeks ago where I was visiting Mrs Tweedle-Dumb at her family pad in our hometown of Houghton Regis near Dunstable. After a good few weeks of catching-up, constant laughs and seeing each other pretty much every other day it was time for her to go back to America and her husband. With her departure also came her parents move too as they too were moving out of the family home and away to the beautiful island of Anglesey in North Wales. 

Parking as I usually had, I didn't think twice about parking my car outside the family home, and I didn't think anything strange when I returned to my car much later on that evening for the drive home. It was not until the following morning when I went out to the car during my day off in order to get something when I noticed a huge grey and white stripe down the front passenger's side of the vehicle. The paint job itself was extremely noticeable, however, it was the huge dent to the door itself and the caved-in handle that gave me a shock. I was fuming. Not knowing what to do I called Mr Warehouse and hoped that he would have some advice for me that would be worthwhile. 

That evening after he arrived home from work we cleaned the car and inspected the overall damage. It was certainly not going to be a cheap job by any means as there were multiple scratches, scuffs and paintwork damage to the car and its bodywork, not to mention the fact that the window made a horrid scraping and scratching noise as it was wound down. Mr Warehouse could even that squeeze his fat sausage digits in between the window and the car door meaning that it was a security risk leaving it. As soon as I could I took her to a bodywork specialist in Bedford who explained that the work was very expensive and would far outweigh my £200 excess. Opting for going through the insurance I followed procedure and took Vivienne to another dealership which was approved. 

Checking her over, the Mechanic told of a very bleak and dark future for my little pumpkin. Explaining that the total damage to the car door and paintwork as well as some extras that needed to be done on the bumper, lights and bonnet to restore the condition of the car would reach well in excess of £3,000. I suppose unfortunately this means that poor Vivienne was on the cusp of being written off as a total loss which would mean my car would be scrapped or stripped down entirely, naked to her shell, her parts sold on. The kind car doctor informed me that the diagnosis would be more likely than not a write-off and that I should hurry home to check that I have purchased the all-important gap insurance. Gap insurance means that whatever the insurance company pays out for my poor old Vivienne, my gap insurance will cover the rest to what I have left to pay on my finance deal. This means that inadvertently I would walk away without a car and with the debt cleared meaning I can go out to find a new car or alternatively get a loan to cover the balance on a new car. 

This evening after finishing work, I noticed I had a text from the car mechanic who diagnosed Vivienne explaining that my vehicle was now a total loss and that my insurance company will be in contact with me soon. With this, I thought that it would be better if I called the insurance company this evening so I could get the ball rolling,  although after a lengthy conversation and many, many questions later the call handler finally revealed to me that my car was no longer insured under my policy and that as of the moment I get home and park her on my drive she will be classed as a category-N write-off meaning I would not be able to drive her ever again. 

Rolling her gently onto my driveway, solely dedicated to her and only her, I bid my 2011-plate little orange Ford Fiesta goodbye as I emptied her insides. Vivienne will be collected in the next few days and after that I should expect to hear what she is worth. To me, however, my first ever car is and always will be priceless. We have cried together, sang together, stressed together and even screamed and shouted together at times. All the selfies. All the memories. I literally thought I would bring my future babies home from the hospital in my Vivienne, car seats and all. Alas, you were beaten up by an unscrupulous driver and thus our adventures will continue no more! You have served me well dear Viv. Miss you already ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

Buy Less, Choose Well, Make It Last: A Quote From Vivienne Westwood

Hellooo, 

Last week, along with announcing that I had a new job to go to, which I will be starting this time next week (Eek!) but also that I had taken my driving test for the second time. Driving up to the test centre I was nervous about the 'Show Me Tell Me' questions as I had not practised them much on the run up as I had before, but other than that I felt very confident about taking my test again. 

Sitting in the waiting area again I was anxious to get going. Seeing my previous driving examiner readying another candidate I was saddened that my learning-to-drive journey would not end with being passed by the same examiner that failed me first time around. Nevertheless I awaited my name to be called and introduced myself when the time came. An elderly gentleman with a large mole or birth mark on his face I was ready to show him what I was made of and hopefully impress him enough to give me that coveted pink drivers licence was so desperate to have. Sitting in the car, ready to go I was determined this would be the last time I have to do this. I needed to pass. Failure was honestly not an option. Halloween was merely a few weeks away and the stingy part of me did not want to shell out in cab fares back and fourth from Bedford to Mr. Warehouse's Cousin's party in nearby Stewartby.

Heading out of the test centre we took a route unfamiliar to myself, but I carried through and before I knew it my time was almost up. Pulling up on a residential road I had already managed some tricky junctions, manoeuvres and traffic situations. Now it was time for my independent driving; A full ten-minutes of silence from everyone in the car whilst I adhered to the already pre-instructed route back to the test centre. Again I was asked to take the route that had failed me last time. Taking it away I put the motions into place and headed out towards the A421 taking directions for Cambridge and the north. Although coming up to a roundabout I was approaching with caution due to an Audi driver not signalling off. As a result I had not noticed I had been driving in the chevron area for some time and it was only now, as I mounted the curb on the island approaching the roundabout that I realised my faults. 

Managing my way around the junction and out onto the cross roads that stung me last time I was sure not to make the same mistake twice, coming up to the junction to stop, look and then ace pulling out into the steadily moving traffic. Heading back to the test centre now I was confident it had been a great drive, maybe one of my best but the fact that I had mounted the curb had thrown me slightly. "If I have failed at that point again I will be really upset and angry with myself. Twelve minutes that's all it is. Twelve minutes from home at the test centre!" I said internally as I exited the slip road and headed towards Cardington. Driving up the winding lanes I was hoping for success and as I pulled my faithful Beema into the parking space I held my breath slightly in anticipation of the news. 

"So I am pleased to tell you that you have passed your driving test" said the examiner, a smiling yet concerned look on his wrinkled face. 
"You mounted the curb back there and in all fairness whilst it was some good driving, most of the five minors you have encountered are for steering or steering related" he continued as my mind drifted off to thoughts of buying a car and what I would tell friends, family and co-workers. 
"You need to make sure you pay more attention and maybe consider taking lessons to counteract your steering issues I have highlighted" my examiner said as I beamed with excitement. Bidding farewell I exited the BMW and shaking, sat in the passengers seat as my instructor took to the wheel to drive me to work. 

The journey back to work was a quick one, passing in a blur of advice and practical knowledge from my instructor whom six-months earlier was just a stranger. Pulling into the car park I was slightly late arriving at just gone ten-in-the-morning. Seeing Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat having a cheeky mid-morning cigarette I saw them trying to read my face as I got out of the car. Thanking my instructor I collected my bag and coat, shaking with my certificate I walked over to where my work colleagues were standing. Shaking my head I heard the sympathies of failing again. That was until I pulled out my pass certificate yelling "Look what I found!?"

Screams and jeers followed in the wake of my announcement, other colleagues peering out of windows and asking if I had passed. Holding up my certificate like a scene from Lion King ("Ha-Min-Yah" and all that malarkey) I was proud as punch. Is this what becoming a parent feels like? Maybe? Who knows? Who cares? I mounted the curb during my driving test and somehow still passed?! I was buzzing. I think I spent most of the rest of the day being congratulated and asked about my test and how it all went. A part of me really started to question why I was leaving when this felt so much like home and family. 

Nevertheless the week continued to drag and as the end of the week was in sight I started to scout out some cars at local reputable dealerships. Taking public transport to a dealership on Saturday I had my heart set on a little orange Ford Fiesta. It is an eleven-plate, five-door hatchback with a 1.4 engine and with its high specification including a multifunctional steering wheel, automatic headlights and rain sensors it was certainly a thing of beauty. Small enough for little old me and big enough for the Doggy and other half during road-trips I was certainly excited to test drive the autumnal-coloured runabout and even more anxious to hear about what packaged I could choose from. 

I will be financing the car, and whilst I did consider a brand spanking new motor, the fact that it would depreciate by over a third just by driving it off the forecourt was a huge factor in why I chose second-hand over new. With one previous owner, no noticeable damage or scratches to her paintwork and a clean interior she was perfect. Yes my car is a she and because it is a female, my little tangerine-coloured car will be called Vivienne, after the flame-haired fashionista that is Vivienne Westwood. I think it fits and I have since found out from Mr. CWG that in actual fact the Ford Fiesta does not come as standard with that colouring and the previous owner must have paid a good deal of money for a paint job as good as what my Viv got. A special one of a kind you might say. Unique - Just like her owner! I am certainly eagar to collect her as soon as possible and it was due to be tonight after I finished work, but with the financial approver being off sick yesterday and today, it is looking like the earliest date Vivienne can come home will be Thursday at earliest. Between now and then I need to barter for a good insurance deal, buy my annual road tax and pick up some screen wash and other car bits to make her look and smell as pretty as a peach in summer.

Phhew! Some serious Adulting has been done recently; New Job, Newly aquired driving liecence and a successful application for car finance. Hopefully next week I can let you know how Vivienne is settling into her new home and how we get along as newly associated BFF's!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx