After writing in Land Rover World, last month: ‘Tucked behind a barn, was a 1952, 80 inch. It looked as though it could have been there for about 20 years. I resisted asking the farmer as to whether it was for sale or not. I have a weakness for such things and really, really, don’t need any more.’ And here it is, safely tucked up in Jo’s garage. It’s the male equivalent of buying a new pair of designer shoes. Illogical, but irresistible and I know I’m preaching to the converted. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it yet, but the signs are good. Yesterday I managed to get the engine to turn over, first on the starting handle, then on the starter motor. There was a spark, but the petrol had been in there for ten years, so ignition was not forthcoming. Lovely patina though, eh?
