With a week’s holiday booked and plenty of sun forecast, there was only one car on the fleet that would do: the MX-5. As Friday arrived, it seemed like a solid choice. The sky was blue, so the roof was dropped and my 90-minute commute became something to savour.
As Saturday dawned, I attempted to show my wife that the little Mazda was more practical than you might think. We were due at a friend’s Eurovision Song Contest party that night, so I crammed the boot with our bag, some rainbow-coloured afro wigs, platform boots, a few bottles of wine and our duvet.
While it all fitted, just, we did have one other occupant to carry: our dog, Sprocket. With no room at all behind the seats, she ended up in the passenger footwell, fighting with my wife for leg room. My practicality promise fell apart.
Despite this, the MX-5 did a convincing job of winning over both wife and dog. The former appreciated the sharp handling and good looks, while the latter seemed to enjoy the wind in her fur, especially when harnessed into the passenger seat.