Mini Obsessions - Part One

Warning: This series is exclusively about real minis made by Austin, Morris, British Leyland and Rover etc, from 1959 to 2000. Anyone wanting to read about those enormous modern ‘mini’ badged vehicles made after this time is not best served here (because in my opinion those cars are neither mini nor minis). However, this isn’t about bashing BMWs reinterpretation, just celebrating the real thing.

Why should any of us, even in the 21st century, have to justify our mini obsessions? The quiet madness of driving an original mini on a regular basis can easily be understood by what underpins all classic cars ownership...obsession. Obsession and passion even, surely need no explanation.

Lots of people still drive minis everyday. In 2000 I became one of them, being lucky enough to purchase an exquisite C registration (1985) Mini City E in Russet Brown, bought from an elderly neighbour. She was a hawk eyed pensioner who made full use of the excellent strategic position of her property at the entrance to our cul-de-sac. She had owned the mini for 9 years and only put 5 thousand miles on the clock. My Grandma knew her from when they were colleagues at Boots. The lady claimed she didn’t work for the money and that she kept her unopened wage packets in a draw at home. Silly bitch. The mini was maintained by her husband, who seemed to spend most of his time outside the house, keeping himself busy with all kinds of large and small maintenance jobs, including the upkeep of the mini. Seeing him changing the spark plugs and topping up the oil and water was the only reason I knew of the minis existence.

I came to enquire about its potential sale due to writing off my Saab 99 Turbo (whole other story) and so needed a cheap car. I happened to also really want a mini. I remember the purchase in snap shots, the first as I approached the old man with a speech prepared about giving the mini a good home, the next snap shot is of the test drive and that I will never forget. Stepping into the car, noting the immaculate chocolate brown interior, it started first time and easing the choke in a little and pulling out of the close, the mini felt like it was brand new. First and second gear dispensed with, I was suddenly doing 50 miles an hour without really trying. The front disc brakes felt unbelievably powerful after my heavy Saab, and the wonderful directness of the steering was a joy. Before I knew it, it was mine. It was a scenario every would be mini owner dreams of, finding an un-restored, low mileage mini in fantastic condition and all for £500 (including an early 70’s maintenance manual). I know all good condition minis look great, but this one was genuinely beautiful to look at, the combination of straight and unblemished panels and this particular shade of brown really made it stand out, to me at least.

The worst car sickness I ever suffered was when driving the mini. Not that I can blame the motion or the mini. It was hot summers morning that I crawled into my mini, clutching a nauseating hang-over and a plastic bag, destination: work in Thames Ditton. I made my way across the downs to sit in traffic on Ewell bypass. It’s very hard to be inconspicuous in a mini, driving a car so low off the ground means adjusting your trousers or picking your nose can be seen by anyone driving anything taller than Fiesta. That morning I also found that concealing being sick into an Asda bag whilst driving in 2 miles an hour traffic is virtually impossible.

You really can fit a lot in a mini, it’s not just something minis owners say, it is quite accurate. After a night out in Dorking with my girlfriend’s sisters mates, I offered to drive two of them home to Epsom. The couple that got into the back of the mini will remain nameless because I need to describe them accurately, but not necessarily diplomatically. They were both easily 16 stoners, yet both were surprised when they were able to find room for themselves without too much difficulty. The same can’t be said for the acceleration, which was somewhat blunted with the extra weight and rear visibility was zero, due to the solid wall of human on the back seat.

There is actually a reason this time for writing about a car I owned ten years ago and I will tell you what the reason is, because normally there isn’t one. The reason is my sister-in-law Edel. Her mini obsession started in 2004 when her dad brought home a brown, 1980 (W Reg) Austin mini. Theo (as her mini was christened) was a birthday present. Whilst Edel learnt to drive, Theo endured a whole year of total neglect, sinking into the pavement outside her mum and dads house. However, once licensed Edels mini obsession finally took hold and in a very big way. When I first saw Theo it triggered the memories of my own and it wasn’t long before I too had another mini in my life, a 1996 (P Reg) Mini Cooper, christened Pickle. Some of our many adventures in these two cars will be detailed in part two of Mini Obsessions.

I will finish part one with my original Mini City and an intriguing paint query. When the sun was going down, the paint colour on C431 JGT would transform from brown into a hazy purple colour and it looked beautiful. Does anyone know what causes this affect? The image will be forever burnt into my memory. I miss looking at this mini and the sense of pride I felt in owning and driving it. I’ve never felt quite the same way about any other car and certainly not for any other mini.