4pm. Thursday. One hour until I can go home. Bored. Subtly check Retro Rides. For Sale. Pre ‘85. Oooh, a Bentley! That’s nice, and very cheap, and very much in the danger zone. Let’s try to get the guy sitting next to me to buy it. Fail. Back to work.
5.30pm. Driving home in the trusty Metro. It’s hot. I’m hot. I have no radio and the traffic is bad. Bored. That Bentley didn’t look that bad and it would be rather epic for a good old road trip around France that is coming up. No. I have two major projects on the go and a recently supercharged MX5 that will be perfect for blasting around French country lanes and making early morning dashes to the nearest patisserie.
6.30pm. At pub with in-laws. Bored but with beer. Bentley still looks good. Where is it? Oh. It’s in Reading. It’s basically on the way to Cambridge. I am going to Cambridge tomorrow morning. Text seller. It’s only because I am curious.
9.30pm. Viewing is arranged. Start looking at MOT history online. It isn’t bad. Oh dear.
11.30pm. Show picture to better half. Doesn’t result in murder. Try to sleep.
1.30am. Friday. Give up reading buyers guides that all tell me I am an idiot.
8.45am. There it is, and it is glorious. Rather tatty with a lot of OAP style damage to the bodywork but it looks clean. Very clean. The more I dig the better it looks. Sills are sound. Arches aren’t rot. As I look closer I start to spot lots of new parts, not just service items either.
The engine bay is clean, not cleaned, but clean. It looks ‘maintained’. And the interior is nice. Very nice. With no service history and a seller who has owned the car for just a few weeks I have very little to go by other than gut feel. I check the engine oil and coolant and am surprised to see them in excellent condition. I had read horrors about neglected coolant systems causing pain and misery so that was a good thing to check off the list. Further investigation revealed an new fuel pump, hoses and clamps, new hydraulic hard lines and a new battery.
A test drive followed which was interesting as the electric seats didn’t work and I have short legs. When it started spitting with rain I found the wipers didn’t work. However, the car drove well, stopped well and pulled okay. I was smitten.
I managed to conjure up enough self-control to not just buy it there and then, leave the Metro to collect later and carry on my journey in style. Somehow. Well done self-control. Instead I set off to a dull business meeting in the little Metro and tried to work out why the Bentley was in the state it was in and what sort of life it may have had before…
On getting home I found SWMBO out, no doubt drowning her sorrows with friends so I set about researching the faults I had found and organising a lift to collect the old beast in the morning. Luckily I used to work for an historic race prep and restoration firm and was able to call on an old colleague and good friend to run me back to Reading and also give the car another good check over.
Morning came and my long suffering partner was still out, probably hoping that if she ignored the situation it would go away. Obviously it didn’t and back to see the car I went. This time I was less rushed and was prepared with torches and a bit more of an idea as to what to look for. A light tapping sound was identified coming from what we think is the induction and the PAS fluid was low, no doubt not helped by a small weep from the rack. Otherwise it still looked good, battered but clearly looked after. We were then distracted by an SL500 for a bit before money was exchanged for keys and I was able to set off to the nearest Halfords in search of PAS fluid!
To be continued…
5.30pm. Driving home in the trusty Metro. It’s hot. I’m hot. I have no radio and the traffic is bad. Bored. That Bentley didn’t look that bad and it would be rather epic for a good old road trip around France that is coming up. No. I have two major projects on the go and a recently supercharged MX5 that will be perfect for blasting around French country lanes and making early morning dashes to the nearest patisserie.
6.30pm. At pub with in-laws. Bored but with beer. Bentley still looks good. Where is it? Oh. It’s in Reading. It’s basically on the way to Cambridge. I am going to Cambridge tomorrow morning. Text seller. It’s only because I am curious.
9.30pm. Viewing is arranged. Start looking at MOT history online. It isn’t bad. Oh dear.
11.30pm. Show picture to better half. Doesn’t result in murder. Try to sleep.
1.30am. Friday. Give up reading buyers guides that all tell me I am an idiot.
8.45am. There it is, and it is glorious. Rather tatty with a lot of OAP style damage to the bodywork but it looks clean. Very clean. The more I dig the better it looks. Sills are sound. Arches aren’t rot. As I look closer I start to spot lots of new parts, not just service items either.
The engine bay is clean, not cleaned, but clean. It looks ‘maintained’. And the interior is nice. Very nice. With no service history and a seller who has owned the car for just a few weeks I have very little to go by other than gut feel. I check the engine oil and coolant and am surprised to see them in excellent condition. I had read horrors about neglected coolant systems causing pain and misery so that was a good thing to check off the list. Further investigation revealed an new fuel pump, hoses and clamps, new hydraulic hard lines and a new battery.
A test drive followed which was interesting as the electric seats didn’t work and I have short legs. When it started spitting with rain I found the wipers didn’t work. However, the car drove well, stopped well and pulled okay. I was smitten.
I managed to conjure up enough self-control to not just buy it there and then, leave the Metro to collect later and carry on my journey in style. Somehow. Well done self-control. Instead I set off to a dull business meeting in the little Metro and tried to work out why the Bentley was in the state it was in and what sort of life it may have had before…
On getting home I found SWMBO out, no doubt drowning her sorrows with friends so I set about researching the faults I had found and organising a lift to collect the old beast in the morning. Luckily I used to work for an historic race prep and restoration firm and was able to call on an old colleague and good friend to run me back to Reading and also give the car another good check over.
Morning came and my long suffering partner was still out, probably hoping that if she ignored the situation it would go away. Obviously it didn’t and back to see the car I went. This time I was less rushed and was prepared with torches and a bit more of an idea as to what to look for. A light tapping sound was identified coming from what we think is the induction and the PAS fluid was low, no doubt not helped by a small weep from the rack. Otherwise it still looked good, battered but clearly looked after. We were then distracted by an SL500 for a bit before money was exchanged for keys and I was able to set off to the nearest Halfords in search of PAS fluid!
To be continued…
