AEFRA's CHALLENGE - Mental (S)cars of Memory: (Ford Fiesta (pre-1995))

Member Name: dj981

Product:	Ford Fiesta (pre-1995)
Date:	26/11/03 (3173 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Cheap and cheerful

Disadvantages: Embarrassment

please skip this first bit to be able to read the review with capital letters intact. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a.


a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a. a.

At last, I remembered to do the a. thing. That's a good five minutes of editing spared!

My motor of memory is not particularly vintage; in fact, I believe it first rolled onto forecourts in 1989/1990 - the mighty Ford Fiesta Mark 3. Setting the standards for bog standard, mass production girl cars, the Fiesta 1.1l was a trailblazer in the 'skint and can't afford anything else' class of motoring. Reaching 60mph from a standing start in a blistering 17 seconds, the Fiesta came with a guarantee to petrify at roundabouts/slip roads/junctions, or your money back.

By the way - the car in the picture is one model newer than intended, but it's still pre-1995 so let me off!

FIRST TRUE LOVE

My 1992, 1.1l, J registration Fiesta came with a difference; it was all kitted-up, Essex boy style. My first car, it was relentless in its attempts to embarrass me at every opportunity. In my brief six months in its company, culminating in an unglamorous accident, I learnt a lot more than I wished to know about its past.

You never forget your first car, do you? I was just 17, and came home one glorious night to find it sitting proudly on the drive. I'd borrowed £2,000 I could ill afford, and bought it from a family friend (doh!). I was hooked at first sight. Cherry red, skirts, front fog lights; it even had the mock 'XR2i' badge laughably affixed alongside my rear registration plate. This vehicular sheep in wolves' clothing was aesthetic deception at its best. Like dressing Dale Winton as Rambo, and sending him out to face the public, my cars' cover was well and truly blown when forced to open its mouth (or throttle, if you like).

BOY CHASER

When I finally got out on the road solo, I started to notice the stark
contr
ast.
Without little red L's stuck on your motor, excusing your ineptitude, you were there for the taking. Living in the supposed spiritual home of the boy-racer, the humiliations started. I was a veritable magnet for spotty little twats in Vauxhall Novas. Pulling up at a split set of traffic lights was a nerve shattering experience. I could feel their cold stares as I sat, tense, helpless and pleading for Amber. To exacerbate my embarrassment, the previous owner had stuck a transfer of Fido-Dido on the boot, right next to the fictitious claims of possessing a fuel-injected engine. I'd tried to scrape it off with boiling water, but I just couldn't shift him. Credibility shattered, I would just catch the final moments of people's sniggers as they pulled alongside.

I assumed people would believe I had far too much power to engage in frivolous racing, to nurse my fragile pride. In reality, I was absolutely flooring it, being left for dust by cyclists, milk floats, and residents of the local home for the elderly.

ALTERNATIVE COMEDY

The alternator on my first car was knackered. Consequently, the problem of maintaining my car's battery was akin to the power shortages experienced on Apollo 13. Keeping things going was a fine art, and involved balancing the power consumption by switching things on and off as you needed them in sequence. Rainy nights with misted windows were a recipe for disaster; I'd find myself flicking off the heater to indicate, flicking it back on to clear the windows, off again for the windscreen wipers etc - it was like watching Richard Clayderman's guide to motoring.

Sometimes, my battery would die completely. One occasion, however, sticks in my mind. I attended a company-wide meeting after work, at a plush golf club one cold November evening. The route leading to the venue was a narrow single lane path, which snaked around the course. Being not particularly committed to
the cause, I was first to leave, and fronted a procession of my colleagues' more illustrious vehicles to the exit. Well, halfway anyway. As I shuddered to a halt, images of Basil Fawlty attacking his car with a tree branch flashed through my mind.

Of all the people to help push this sorry heap out harms way, it had to be a partner of the firm. Stepping out of his brand new Mercedes, in expensive overcoat and tailored trousers, the situation had plunged new depths. Whilst plotting my punishment for the little red git, I pondered the next day's taunts, as my colleagues overtook us, mounting the grass verge one by one, laughing uncontrollably.

WHAT VAN?

To destroy the last iota of respect I had for this wretched car, I made a final, shocking discovery. It was once, in fact, a van. I had to take some rubbish to the dump, and hence the lowering of the back seat was required. I'd always wondered why there was an additional interior light over the 'rear seats'; I was about to find out why. They were actually a thick piece of foam, wrapped in seat covering, resting on a wooden shelf. Suddenly, all the little quirks my car had that other Fiesta's did not, made perfect sense.

Only discovering my girlfriend was once a man could affect me more. Not wanting to investigate further, I stuffed the foam back into place, and cursed that £2,000 bank loan I still had to repay.

THE GRAND FINALE

Having said all that, my Fiesta probably saved my life. On my way home from work one evening, I was hit by a pick-up truck. I was propelled across the road, and ended up in the side of a stationery vehicle. Shaken and suffering from whiplash, I crawled out without life threatening injury. My car, on the other hand, was a crumpled mess, spilling oil and petrol all over the road. Upon inspecting the damage, I immediately felt a twinge of sadness. For all its faults, it had served me well when it mattered most. <
br>
I still hated it though.

GENERAL

The Fiesta has been in production for decades. It used to be the entry-level car for Ford owners in the UK. Reliable, sturdy, and cheap are three words that immediately spring to mind (with the odd exception!). Usually supplied in 1.1, 1.3, 1.4, 1.6 & sporting variations, such as the XR2 & RS Turbo, Fiestas have frequently topped sales lists for the supermini class.

Usual problems are rusting, and the main components tend to give up quickly. However, picking up spare parts will be easy, due to popularity. They will also rapidly depreciate in value, so make sure you harbour intentions of driving it into the ground before you hand over your money.

I still drive a Fiesta; I have the new model 1.6i Zetec. It has been completely overhauled, and I must say, is a vast improvement over previous models. It also comes with free insurance, and if you are looking for a cheaper alternative to the Ford Focus, you can't really go wrong.

And that's it. Thanks for reading!

**If you want to take part, please include CARS OF MEMORY in the title and include the following paragraph:

"This review is part of the CARS/MOTOR BIKES OF MEMORY challenge where members are asked to write about cars/motor bikes which bring back memories. ** Katie says she will hurry through any item requests. If they are flagged "Motors" she will see they go through as quickly as possible. She also asks that they not be "In General". Any which have consumer information will be eligible for crowns. **"

Summary: