An older brother for Esmeralda.

Browsing the classic cars for sale on the internet (a favourite waste of time) I came across a 1966 black Volkswagen Beetle which had been beautifully renovated and looked like it had just emerged from the factory. It is extremely hard to find original and unmolested classic cars in Poland.

Of course I already have Esmeralda, a lovely metallic-grey head-turner coated in chrome and born in 1982, whom I love driving and has never given me any trouble. I do not need another car. This black beauty, however, was flawless! Furthermore, 1966 is a prized year amongst Beetle enthusiasts as it was the only year that the 1300cc engine was produced, generally considered to be the best and most suited to the Beetle (Esmeralda has a 1200cc engine).

"What do you want another Beetle for?" said my Big German Friend, "besides, they're not cool any more." He has a classic open-top Porsche 911 in which he roars around Dusseldorf at the weekends. Granted that the VW Beetle does not offer the same excitement and yet I was smitten.

Lola indulged my curiosity by driving me across Poland in order to confirm to myself that the car would be disappointing up close, potential problems, defects that do not show up in the pictures etc. But when I arrived and the garage door was opened my jaw dropped and I knew immediately that I had to have it. After some hot haggling I parted with some cash and Mike the Mechanic said he would fetch it on his truck for 250 smackers.

Back in Lodz my gym pals were surprised that I was going to pay to have it delivered to Lodz...
"Why don't you drive it back?" they exclaimed.
"Drive it?? It's 220 miles away! And this is no ordinary car... it's an antique!" But they got me thinking. Why not? I could collect it late afternoon on Saturday and drive for a few hours, then spend the night in a motel and continue leisurely the following morning. I had breakdown numbers I could call if need be, and in the event it probably wouldn't cost much more than the original delivery bill depending on where I was.

So that was it. I set out on Saturday morning having only slept 3 hours as I'd had a spontaneous night on the tiles. The 8 hour train journey was uncomfortable and tiring and when I arrived at 6pm I was already exhausted. The car felt solid, and despite my fatigue I switched on the ivory knobbed radio and settled back to a few hours on the road. I spotted a few motels but kept going so that I would have a shorter drive the next day, after only three hours I found I was more than half way. In Poland there are no motorways, several are now under construction thanks to the billions they've received from the EU. I had to deal with the usual idiots driving aggressively inches behind me and trying to cut me up on both sides, no matter that I'm driving a 42 year old car. But I refused to go beyond 60mph.

I eventually got home at 11pm, just 5 hours after picking the car up and with one 10 minute break for a coffee. I was worn out and yet exhilerated. I am the owner of another handsome car that is now named Edward and have acquired a second garage in which to house him.