Seit ich mich erinnern kann, liebe ich Minis. Es war mir eigentlich egal, ob es ein Morris, Austin, Innocenti, Cooper oder Cooper S war – solange es ein Mini war, und zwar ein Mini im klassischen Design, nicht die späteren Modelle aus der BMW-Ära.

Vor vier oder fünf Jahren, kurz bevor ich Auto fahren durfte, wollte ich unbedingt eines als mein erstes Auto zum Lernen haben. Es überraschte mich nicht, dass meine Eltern Nein sagten. Wir hatten keinen Garagenplatz und sie hätten zumindest teilweise die Verantwortung tragen müssen, bis ich endlich damit fahren durfte. 

Aber 2023 standen die Sterne günstig. Damit meine ich, dass ich mir das Auto meiner Tante ausgeliehen hatte, um meine Prüfung zu bestehen, und die nette Pfarrerin in meiner Straße mir freundlicherweise ihre Garage zur Verfügung stellte. Bingo! Nur dass ... während ich damit beschäftigt war, ein nicht besonders wohlhabender Erwachsener zu sein, die Preise für Minis offenbar in die Höhe geschossen waren. Ein schöner Rover MPI kostete nicht mehr 3000 Pfund, sondern eher 10.000 Pfund. Das war nicht die Art von Geld, die ich einfach so ausgeben konnte.

Glücklicherweise fand ich schließlich das richtige Auto und erhielt 2023 die Schlüssel für einen 1992er Rover Mini British Open Classic, der nach einigem Feilschen gerade noch in mein Budget passte. Die Kupplung war am Ende, das Auto war seit einigen Jahren nicht mehr gewartet worden und hatte weit über 150.000 Meilen (241.000 km) auf dem Tacho.

Und trotzdem war ich begeistert. Es hatte nur einen Vorbesitzer gehabt, wies kaum Rost auf und verfügte sogar über ein Webasto-Stoffdach (das allerdings nicht funktionierte).

Es war großartig, und in weniger als zwei Jahren legte ich weitere 3000 fehlerfreie Meilen (4828 km) zurück und fuhr damit nach Wales, in den Lake District und an die Küste. Mit einem MGB-Vergaser war es spritzig, und nachdem mein Vater und ich es wieder in seinen früheren Glanz versetzt hatten, war es, wenn ich das selbst sagen darf, eines der besten Autos, die es gab. Ich war der Neid aller an jeder Tankstelle, die ich anfuhr.

Und doch wird es, wenn Sie dies lesen, bereits den Atlantik überquert haben, auf dem Weg zu einem neuen Leben in den USA.

Warum habe ich es verkauft? Nun, es ist eine traurige Kombination aus Londons ULEZ-Umweltzone und dem Pfarrhaus, in dem ich das Auto untergestellt hatte und das nun zum Verkauf steht. Der neue Besitzer des Mini muss sich keine Gedanken über Umweltzonen machen und hat eine Garage, sodass er das Auto regelmäßig nutzen und gleichzeitig sauber und trocken halten kann.

Ich hätte wahrscheinlich einen Weg gefunden, ihn zu behalten, aber ehrlich gesagt hatte ich nach einigen langen Reisen mein Verlangen nach einem Mini gestillt. Es stellte sich heraus, dass ein Mini mit Softtop nicht mein ideales Alltagsauto war.

Wo auch immer ich damit fuhr, war ich frustriert – nicht unbedingt wegen des Autos, sondern wegen allem anderen, was mit dem Fahren zu tun hatte. Wenn ich mich entschied, die Autobahn zu meiden und stattdessen durch die schöne Landschaft von Kent zu fahren, verursachten die Schlaglöcher ein Schütteln im Auto. Und wenn ich die Autobahn nach Hause nahm, bekam ich Kopfschmerzen von den Vibrationen und den lauten hohen Drehzahlen, die durch das Vierganggetriebe verursacht wurden.

Immer wenn ich endlich ein glattes Stück Asphalt auf einer guten Nebenstraße gefunden hatte, war es unweigerlich von einem Honda Jazz besetzt, der mit 50 km/h fuhr. 

Es kam zu dem Punkt, an dem ich keine Freude mehr daran hatte, mit einem alten Klassiker herumzufahren: Die Straßen sind kaputt und überfüllt, und um zu einer anständigen Straße zu gelangen, muss ich ewig auf der Autobahn sitzen. Ich brauchte ein moderneres, vielseitigeres Spielzeug.

Auf der richtigen Straße und unter den richtigen Bedingungen war das Fahren mit dem Mini ein Riesenspaß, aber er war zu kompromissbehaftet, um ihn als mein einziges Auto zu behalten. 

Seit ich mich erinnern kann, liebe ich Minis. Es war mir eigentlich egal, ob es ein Morris, Austin, Innocenti, Cooper oder Cooper S war – solange es ein Mini war, und zwar ein Mini im klassischen Design, nicht die späteren Modelle aus der BMW-Ära.

Vor vier oder fünf Jahren, kurz bevor ich Auto fahren durfte, wollte ich unbedingt eines als mein erstes Auto zum Lernen haben. Es überraschte mich nicht, dass meine Eltern Nein sagten. Wir hatten keinen Garagenplatz und sie hätten zumindest teilweise die Verantwortung tragen müssen, bis ich endlich damit fahren durfte. 

Aber 2023 standen die Sterne günstig. Damit meine ich, dass ich mir das Auto meiner Tante ausgeliehen hatte, um meine Prüfung zu bestehen, und die nette Pfarrerin in meiner Straße mir freundlicherweise ihre Garage zur Verfügung stellte. Bingo! Nur dass ... während ich damit beschäftigt war, ein nicht besonders wohlhabender Erwachsener zu sein, die Preise für Minis offenbar in die Höhe geschossen waren. Ein schöner Rover MPI kostete nicht mehr 3000 Pfund, sondern eher 10.000 Pfund. Das war nicht die Art von Geld, die ich einfach so ausgeben konnte.

Glücklicherweise fand ich schließlich das richtige Auto und erhielt 2023 die Schlüssel für einen 1992er Rover Mini British Open Classic, der nach einigem Feilschen gerade noch in mein Budget passte. Die Kupplung war am Ende, das Auto war seit einigen Jahren nicht mehr gewartet worden und hatte weit über 150.000 Meilen (241.000 km) auf dem Tacho.

Und trotzdem war ich begeistert. Es hatte nur einen Vorbesitzer gehabt, wies kaum Rost auf und verfügte sogar über ein Webasto-Stoffdach (das allerdings nicht funktionierte).

Es war großartig, und in weniger als zwei Jahren legte ich weitere 3000 fehlerfreie Meilen (4828 km) zurück und fuhr damit nach Wales, in den Lake District und an die Küste. Mit einem MGB-Vergaser war es spritzig, und nachdem mein Vater und ich es wieder in seinen früheren Glanz versetzt hatten, war es, wenn ich das selbst sagen darf, eines der besten Autos, die es gab. Ich war der Neid aller an jeder Tankstelle, die ich anfuhr.

Und doch wird es, wenn Sie dies lesen, bereits den Atlantik überquert haben, auf dem Weg zu einem neuen Leben in den USA.

Warum habe ich es verkauft? Nun, es ist eine traurige Kombination aus Londons ULEZ-Umweltzone und dem Pfarrhaus, in dem ich das Auto untergestellt hatte und das nun zum Verkauf steht. Der neue Besitzer des Mini muss sich keine Gedanken über Umweltzonen machen und hat eine Garage, sodass er das Auto regelmäßig nutzen und gleichzeitig sauber und trocken halten kann.

Ich hätte wahrscheinlich einen Weg gefunden, ihn zu behalten, aber ehrlich gesagt hatte ich nach einigen langen Reisen mein Verlangen nach einem Mini gestillt. Es stellte sich heraus, dass ein Mini mit Softtop nicht mein ideales Alltagsauto war.

Wo auch immer ich damit fuhr, war ich frustriert – nicht unbedingt wegen des Autos, sondern wegen allem anderen, was mit dem Fahren zu tun hatte. Wenn ich mich entschied, die Autobahn zu meiden und stattdessen durch die schöne Landschaft von Kent zu fahren, verursachten die Schlaglöcher ein Schütteln im Auto. Und wenn ich die Autobahn nach Hause nahm, bekam ich Kopfschmerzen von den Vibrationen und den lauten hohen Drehzahlen, die durch das Vierganggetriebe verursacht wurden.

Immer wenn ich endlich ein glattes Stück Asphalt auf einer guten Nebenstraße gefunden hatte, war es unweigerlich von einem Honda Jazz besetzt, der mit 50 km/h fuhr. 

Es kam zu dem Punkt, an dem ich keine Freude mehr daran hatte, mit einem alten Klassiker herumzufahren: Die Straßen sind kaputt und überfüllt, und um zu einer anständigen Straße zu gelangen, muss ich ewig auf der Autobahn sitzen. Ich brauchte ein moderneres, vielseitigeres Spielzeug.

Auf der richtigen Straße und unter den richtigen Bedingungen war das Fahren mit dem Mini ein Riesenspaß, aber er war zu kompromissbehaftet, um ihn als mein einziges Auto zu behalten. 

Seit ich mich erinnern kann, liebe ich Minis. Es war mir eigentlich egal, ob es ein Morris, Austin, Innocenti, Cooper oder Cooper S war – solange es ein Mini war, und zwar ein Mini im klassischen Design, nicht die späteren Modelle aus der BMW-Ära.

Vor vier oder fünf Jahren, kurz bevor ich Auto fahren durfte, wollte ich unbedingt eines als mein erstes Auto zum Lernen haben. Es überraschte mich nicht, dass meine Eltern Nein sagten. Wir hatten keinen Garagenplatz und sie hätten zumindest teilweise die Verantwortung tragen müssen, bis ich endlich damit fahren durfte. 

Aber 2023 standen die Sterne günstig. Damit meine ich, dass ich mir das Auto meiner Tante ausgeliehen hatte, um meine Prüfung zu bestehen, und die nette Pfarrerin in meiner Straße mir freundlicherweise ihre Garage zur Verfügung stellte. Bingo! Nur dass ... während ich damit beschäftigt war, ein nicht besonders wohlhabender Erwachsener zu sein, die Preise für Minis offenbar in die Höhe geschossen waren. Ein schöner Rover MPI kostete nicht mehr 3000 Pfund, sondern eher 10.000 Pfund. Das war nicht die Art von Geld, die ich einfach so ausgeben konnte.

Glücklicherweise fand ich schließlich das richtige Auto und erhielt 2023 die Schlüssel für einen 1992er Rover Mini British Open Classic, der nach einigem Feilschen gerade noch in mein Budget passte. Die Kupplung war am Ende, das Auto war seit einigen Jahren nicht mehr gewartet worden und hatte weit über 150.000 Meilen (241.000 km) auf dem Tacho.

Und trotzdem war ich begeistert. Es hatte nur einen Vorbesitzer gehabt, wies kaum Rost auf und verfügte sogar über ein Webasto-Stoffdach (das allerdings nicht funktionierte).

Es war großartig, und in weniger als zwei Jahren legte ich weitere 3000 fehlerfreie Meilen (4828 km) zurück und fuhr damit nach Wales, in den Lake District und an die Küste. Mit einem MGB-Vergaser war es spritzig, und nachdem mein Vater und ich es wieder in seinen früheren Glanz versetzt hatten, war es, wenn ich das selbst sagen darf, eines der besten Autos, die es gab. Ich war der Neid aller an jeder Tankstelle, die ich anfuhr.

Und doch wird es, wenn Sie dies lesen, bereits den Atlantik überquert haben, auf dem Weg zu einem neuen Leben in den USA.

Warum habe ich es verkauft? Nun, es ist eine traurige Kombination aus Londons ULEZ-Umweltzone und dem Pfarrhaus, in dem ich das Auto untergestellt hatte und das nun zum Verkauf steht. Der neue Besitzer des Mini muss sich keine Gedanken über Umweltzonen machen und hat eine Garage, sodass er das Auto regelmäßig nutzen und gleichzeitig sauber und trocken halten kann.

Ich hätte wahrscheinlich einen Weg gefunden, ihn zu behalten, aber ehrlich gesagt hatte ich nach einigen langen Reisen mein Verlangen nach einem Mini gestillt. Es stellte sich heraus, dass ein Mini mit Softtop nicht mein ideales Alltagsauto war.

Wo auch immer ich damit fuhr, war ich frustriert – nicht unbedingt wegen des Autos, sondern wegen allem anderen, was mit dem Fahren zu tun hatte. Wenn ich mich entschied, die Autobahn zu meiden und stattdessen durch die schöne Landschaft von Kent zu fahren, verursachten die Schlaglöcher ein Schütteln im Auto. Und wenn ich die Autobahn nach Hause nahm, bekam ich Kopfschmerzen von den Vibrationen und den lauten hohen Drehzahlen, die durch das Vierganggetriebe verursacht wurden.

Immer wenn ich endlich ein glattes Stück Asphalt auf einer guten Nebenstraße gefunden hatte, war es unweigerlich von einem Honda Jazz besetzt, der mit 50 km/h fuhr. 

Es kam zu dem Punkt, an dem ich keine Freude mehr daran hatte, mit einem alten Klassiker herumzufahren: Die Straßen sind kaputt und überfüllt, und um zu einer anständigen Straße zu gelangen, muss ich ewig auf der Autobahn sitzen. Ich brauchte ein moderneres, vielseitigeres Spielzeug.

Auf der richtigen Straße und unter den richtigen Bedingungen war das Fahren mit dem Mini ein Riesenspaß, aber er war zu kompromissbehaftet, um ihn als mein einziges Auto zu behalten. 

Da quando ho memoria, ho sempre amato le Mini. Non mi importava se fosse una Morris, una Austin, una Innocenti, una Cooper, una Cooper S... bastava che fosse una Mini, quella dalla forma classica, non le auto dell'era BMW.

Quattro o cinque anni fa, poco prima di poter guidare, desideravo disperatamente averne una come prima auto per imparare. Ovviamente, i miei genitori hanno detto di no. Non avevamo un garage e avrebbero dovuto assumersi almeno in parte la responsabilità fino al momento in cui fossi stato finalmente in grado di guidarla. 

Ma nel 2023, le stelle si sono allineate. Con questo intendo dire che avevo preso in prestito l'auto di mia zia per superare l'esame e il simpatico vicario che abitava nella mia strada era felice di lasciarmi usare il suo garage. Bingo! Solo che... mentre ero impegnato a fare l'adulto non proprio benestante, i prezzi delle Mini sembravano essere saliti alle stelle. Una bella Rover MPI non costava più 3000 sterline, ma piuttosto 10.000. Non era proprio il tipo di cifra che potevo permettermi di spendere.

Fortunatamente, alla fine ho trovato quello giusto e nel 2023 ho ricevuto le chiavi di una Rover Mini British Open Classic del 1992, che dopo una trattativa rientrava appena nel mio budget. La frizione era ormai esaurita, non veniva revisionata da alcuni anni e aveva ben oltre 150.000 miglia (241,401 km) all'attivo.

Eppure mi piaceva. Aveva avuto un solo proprietario, era quasi priva di ruggine e aveva persino un tetto in tessuto Webasto (che non funzionava).

Era fantastica e, in meno di due anni, ho percorso altri 3000 miglia senza alcun problema, portandola in Galles, nel Lake District e sulla costa. Con un carburatore MGB, era vivace e, dopo che io e mio padre l'avevamo riportata al suo antico splendore, era una delle migliori in circolazione, se posso dirlo. Ero l'invidia di tutti ogni volta che entravo in una stazione di servizio.

Eppure, quando leggerete queste righe, avrà già attraversato l'Atlantico per iniziare una nuova vita negli Stati Uniti.

Allora perché l'ho venduta? Beh, è stata una combinazione sfortunata tra la zona a basse emissioni ULEZ di Londra e la vendita della canonica dove tenevo l'auto. Il nuovo proprietario della Mini non deve preoccuparsi delle zone a basse emissioni e ha un garage, quindi potrà usare l'auto regolarmente tenendola pulita e all'asciutto.

Probabilmente avrei potuto trovare un modo per tenerla, ma, a dire il vero, dopo alcuni lunghi viaggi avevo soddisfatto il mio desiderio di possedere una Mini. Alla fine, una Mini con capote morbida non era la mia auto ideale per l'uso quotidiano.

Ovunque guidassi, mi sentivo frustrato, non necessariamente per l'auto, ma per tutto ciò che riguardava la guida. Se decidevo di evitare l'autostrada e guidare invece attraverso la splendida campagna del Kent, le buche facevano tremare l'auto. E se prendevo l'autostrada per tornare a casa, finivo per avere mal di testa a causa delle vibrazioni e dei rumori causati dal cambio a quattro marce.

Ogni volta che finalmente trovavo un tratto di asfalto liscio su una buona strada secondaria, era inevitabilmente occupato da una Honda Jazz che procedeva a 50 km/h. 

Sono arrivato al punto in cui non riuscivo più a provare piacere nel guidare una vecchia auto d'epoca: le strade sono dissestate e trafficate e, per raggiungere strade dove poter guidare bene, devo stare in autostrada per ore. Avevo bisogno di un giocattolo più moderno e versatile.

Sulla strada giusta, nelle condizioni giuste, la Mini è stata fantastica da guidare, ma era troppo compromessa per tenerla come unica auto. 

For as long as I can remember, I've loved Minis. I wasn't really fussed whether it was a Morris, Austin, Innocenti, Cooper, Cooper S… just as long as it was a Mini – the classic-shaped one, not the later BMW-era cars.

Four or five years ago, just before I could drive, I desperately wanted one to have as my first car to learn in. Unsurprisingly, my parents said no. We had no garage space and they would have had to be at least partially responsible until the point when I was finally able to drive it. 

But in 2023, the stars aligned. By that I mean I'd borrowed my aunt's car to pass my test, and the nice vicar down my road was happy to let me use her garage. Bingo! Except… while I had been busy being a not-so-well-to-do adult, the prices of Minis seemed to have ballooned. No longer was a nice late Rover MPI £3000: it was more like 10k. Not the kind of money I had to throw about. 

Luckily, I did eventually find the right one, and in 2023 I got the keys to a 1992 Rover Mini British Open Classic, which was just about within budget after a haggle. The clutch was on the way out, it hadn't been serviced in a few years and it had well over 150,000 miles on the clock.

And yet I loved it. It had had only one owner, had barely any rust and even had a Webasto fabric roof (that didn't work).

It was brilliant, and in less than two years, I put another 3000 fault-free miles onto it, taking it to Wales, the Lake District and the coast. With an MGB carburettor, it was peppy, and after my dad and I had restored it to its former glory, it was one of the best out there, if I do say so myself. I was the envy of everyone at every petrol station forecourt I entered.

And yet, by the time you read this, it will have crossed the Atlantic on its way to a new life in the US.

So why did it go? Well, it’s a sorry combination of London’s ULEZ, plus the vicarage where I kept the car being put up for sale. The Mini’s new owner doesn’t have any low-emission zones to worry about and has a garage, so they will be able to use the car regularly while keeping it clean and dry.

I probably could have found a way to keep it but, truth be told, I’d scratched the itch of Mini ownership after a few long trips. It turns out that a soft-top Mini wasn’t my ideal daily driver.

Wherever I drove it, I got frustrated – not necessarily at the car, but everything else involved with driving. If I chose to avoid the motorway and drive through the lovely Kent countryside instead, the potholes would send shivers through the car. And if I took the motorway route home, I'd end up with a headache from the vibration and noisy high revs caused by the four-speed gearbox. 

Whenever I finally found a smooth piece of asphalt on a good B-road, it was inevitably occupied by a Honda Jazz doing 30mph. 

It got to the point where I couldn’t see the pleasure in driving around in an old classic: the roads are knackered and busy, and to get to any decent driving roads, I have to sit on the motorway for ages. A more modern, multi-purpose toy was needed.

On the right road, in the right conditions, the Mini has been a blast to drive, but it was too compromised to keep as my only car. 

For as long as I can remember, I've loved Minis. I wasn't really fussed whether it was a Morris, Austin, Innocenti, Cooper, Cooper S… just as long as it was a Mini – the classic-shaped one, not the later BMW-era cars.

Four or five years ago, just before I could drive, I desperately wanted one to have as my first car to learn in. Unsurprisingly, my parents said no. We had no garage space and they would have had to be at least partially responsible until the point when I was finally able to drive it. 

But in 2023, the stars aligned. By that I mean I'd borrowed my aunt's car to pass my test, and the nice vicar down my road was happy to let me use her garage. Bingo! Except… while I had been busy being a not-so-well-to-do adult, the prices of Minis seemed to have ballooned. No longer was a nice late Rover MPI £3000: it was more like 10k. Not the kind of money I had to throw about. 

Luckily, I did eventually find the right one, and in 2023 I got the keys to a 1992 Rover Mini British Open Classic, which was just about within budget after a haggle. The clutch was on the way out, it hadn't been serviced in a few years and it had well over 150,000 miles on the clock.

And yet I loved it. It had had only one owner, had barely any rust and even had a Webasto fabric roof (that didn't work).

It was brilliant, and in less than two years, I put another 3000 fault-free miles onto it, taking it to Wales, the Lake District and the coast. With an MGB carburettor, it was peppy, and after my dad and I had restored it to its former glory, it was one of the best out there, if I do say so myself. I was the envy of everyone at every petrol station forecourt I entered.

And yet, by the time you read this, it will have crossed the Atlantic on its way to a new life in the US.

So why did it go? Well, it’s a sorry combination of London’s ULEZ, plus the vicarage where I kept the car being put up for sale. The Mini’s new owner doesn’t have any low-emission zones to worry about and has a garage, so they will be able to use the car regularly while keeping it clean and dry.

I probably could have found a way to keep it but, truth be told, I’d scratched the itch of Mini ownership after a few long trips. It turns out that a soft-top Mini wasn’t my ideal daily driver.

Wherever I drove it, I got frustrated – not necessarily at the car, but everything else involved with driving. If I chose to avoid the motorway and drive through the lovely Kent countryside instead, the potholes would send shivers through the car. And if I took the motorway route home, I'd end up with a headache from the vibration and noisy high revs caused by the four-speed gearbox. 

Whenever I finally found a smooth piece of asphalt on a good B-road, it was inevitably occupied by a Honda Jazz doing 30mph. 

It got to the point where I couldn’t see the pleasure in driving around in an old classic: the roads are knackered and busy, and to get to any decent driving roads, I have to sit on the motorway for ages. A more modern, multi-purpose toy was needed.

On the right road, in the right conditions, the Mini has been a blast to drive, but it was too compromised to keep as my only car. 

For as long as I can remember, I've loved Minis. I wasn't really fussed whether it was a Morris, Austin, Innocenti, Cooper, Cooper S… just as long as it was a Mini – the classic-shaped one, not the later BMW-era cars.

Four or five years ago, just before I could drive, I desperately wanted one to have as my first car to learn in. Unsurprisingly, my parents said no. We had no garage space and they would have had to be at least partially responsible until the point when I was finally able to drive it. 

But in 2023, the stars aligned. By that I mean I'd borrowed my aunt's car to pass my test, and the nice vicar down my road was happy to let me use her garage. Bingo! Except… while I had been busy being a not-so-well-to-do adult, the prices of Minis seemed to have ballooned. No longer was a nice late Rover MPI £3000: it was more like 10k. Not the kind of money I had to throw about. 

Luckily, I did eventually find the right one, and in 2023 I got the keys to a 1992 Rover Mini British Open Classic, which was just about within budget after a haggle. The clutch was on the way out, it hadn't been serviced in a few years and it had well over 150,000 miles on the clock.

And yet I loved it. It had had only one owner, had barely any rust and even had a Webasto fabric roof (that didn't work).

It was brilliant, and in less than two years, I put another 3000 fault-free miles onto it, taking it to Wales, the Lake District and the coast. With an MGB carburettor, it was peppy, and after my dad and I had restored it to its former glory, it was one of the best out there, if I do say so myself. I was the envy of everyone at every petrol station forecourt I entered.

And yet, by the time you read this, it will have crossed the Atlantic on its way to a new life in the US.

So why did it go? Well, it’s a sorry combination of London’s ULEZ, plus the vicarage where I kept the car being put up for sale. The Mini’s new owner doesn’t have any low-emission zones to worry about and has a garage, so they will be able to use the car regularly while keeping it clean and dry.

I probably could have found a way to keep it but, truth be told, I’d scratched the itch of Mini ownership after a few long trips. It turns out that a soft-top Mini wasn’t my ideal daily driver.

Wherever I drove it, I got frustrated – not necessarily at the car, but everything else involved with driving. If I chose to avoid the motorway and drive through the lovely Kent countryside instead, the potholes would send shivers through the car. And if I took the motorway route home, I'd end up with a headache from the vibration and noisy high revs caused by the four-speed gearbox. 

Whenever I finally found a smooth piece of asphalt on a good B-road, it was inevitably occupied by a Honda Jazz doing 30mph. 

It got to the point where I couldn’t see the pleasure in driving around in an old classic: the roads are knackered and busy, and to get to any decent driving roads, I have to sit on the motorway for ages. A more modern, multi-purpose toy was needed.

On the right road, in the right conditions, the Mini has been a blast to drive, but it was too compromised to keep as my only car. 

For as long as I can remember, I've loved Minis. I wasn't really fussed whether it was a Morris, Austin, Innocenti, Cooper, Cooper S… just as long as it was a Mini – the classic-shaped one, not the later BMW-era cars.

Four or five years ago, just before I could drive, I desperately wanted one to have as my first car to learn in. Unsurprisingly, my parents said no. We had no garage space and they would have had to be at least partially responsible until the point when I was finally able to drive it. 

But in 2023, the stars aligned. By that I mean I'd borrowed my aunt's car to pass my test, and the nice vicar down my road was happy to let me use her garage. Bingo! Except… while I had been busy being a not-so-well-to-do adult, the prices of Minis seemed to have ballooned. No longer was a nice late Rover MPI £3000: it was more like 10k. Not the kind of money I had to throw about. 

Luckily, I did eventually find the right one, and in 2023 I got the keys to a 1992 Rover Mini British Open Classic, which was just about within budget after a haggle. The clutch was on the way out, it hadn't been serviced in a few years and it had well over 150,000 miles on the clock.

And yet I loved it. It had had only one owner, had barely any rust and even had a Webasto fabric roof (that didn't work).

It was brilliant, and in less than two years, I put another 3000 fault-free miles onto it, taking it to Wales, the Lake District and the coast. With an MGB carburettor, it was peppy, and after my dad and I had restored it to its former glory, it was one of the best out there, if I do say so myself. I was the envy of everyone at every petrol station forecourt I entered.

And yet, by the time you read this, it will have crossed the Atlantic on its way to a new life in the US.

So why did it go? Well, it’s a sorry combination of London’s ULEZ, plus the vicarage where I kept the car being put up for sale. The Mini’s new owner doesn’t have any low-emission zones to worry about and has a garage, so they will be able to use the car regularly while keeping it clean and dry.

I probably could have found a way to keep it but, truth be told, I’d scratched the itch of Mini ownership after a few long trips. It turns out that a soft-top Mini wasn’t my ideal daily driver.

Wherever I drove it, I got frustrated – not necessarily at the car, but everything else involved with driving. If I chose to avoid the motorway and drive through the lovely Kent countryside instead, the potholes would send shivers through the car. And if I took the motorway route home, I'd end up with a headache from the vibration and noisy high revs caused by the four-speed gearbox. 

Whenever I finally found a smooth piece of asphalt on a good B-road, it was inevitably occupied by a Honda Jazz doing 30mph. 

It got to the point where I couldn’t see the pleasure in driving around in an old classic: the roads are knackered and busy, and to get to any decent driving roads, I have to sit on the motorway for ages. A more modern, multi-purpose toy was needed.

On the right road, in the right conditions, the Mini has been a blast to drive, but it was too compromised to keep as my only car. 

For as long as I can remember, I've loved Minis. I wasn't really fussed whether it was a Morris, Austin, Innocenti, Cooper, Cooper S… just as long as it was a Mini – the classic-shaped one, not the later BMW-era cars.

Four or five years ago, just before I could drive, I desperately wanted one to have as my first car to learn in. Unsurprisingly, my parents said no. We had no garage space and they would have had to be at least partially responsible until the point when I was finally able to drive it. 

But in 2023, the stars aligned. By that I mean I'd borrowed my aunt's car to pass my test, and the nice vicar down my road was happy to let me use her garage. Bingo! Except… while I had been busy being a not-so-well-to-do adult, the prices of Minis seemed to have ballooned. No longer was a nice late Rover MPI £3000: it was more like 10k. Not the kind of money I had to throw about. 

Luckily, I did eventually find the right one, and in 2023 I got the keys to a 1992 Rover Mini British Open Classic, which was just about within budget after a haggle. The clutch was on the way out, it hadn't been serviced in a few years and it had well over 150,000 miles on the clock.

And yet I loved it. It had had only one owner, had barely any rust and even had a Webasto fabric roof (that didn't work).

It was brilliant, and in less than two years, I put another 3000 fault-free miles onto it, taking it to Wales, the Lake District and the coast. With an MGB carburettor, it was peppy, and after my dad and I had restored it to its former glory, it was one of the best out there, if I do say so myself. I was the envy of everyone at every petrol station forecourt I entered.

And yet, by the time you read this, it will have crossed the Atlantic on its way to a new life in the US.

So why did it go? Well, it’s a sorry combination of London’s ULEZ, plus the vicarage where I kept the car being put up for sale. The Mini’s new owner doesn’t have any low-emission zones to worry about and has a garage, so they will be able to use the car regularly while keeping it clean and dry.

I probably could have found a way to keep it but, truth be told, I’d scratched the itch of Mini ownership after a few long trips. It turns out that a soft-top Mini wasn’t my ideal daily driver.

Wherever I drove it, I got frustrated – not necessarily at the car, but everything else involved with driving. If I chose to avoid the motorway and drive through the lovely Kent countryside instead, the potholes would send shivers through the car. And if I took the motorway route home, I'd end up with a headache from the vibration and noisy high revs caused by the four-speed gearbox. 

Whenever I finally found a smooth piece of asphalt on a good B-road, it was inevitably occupied by a Honda Jazz doing 30mph. 

It got to the point where I couldn’t see the pleasure in driving around in an old classic: the roads are knackered and busy, and to get to any decent driving roads, I have to sit on the motorway for ages. A more modern, multi-purpose toy was needed.

On the right road, in the right conditions, the Mini has been a blast to drive, but it was too compromised to keep as my only car. 

For as long as I can remember, I've loved Minis. I wasn't really fussed whether it was a Morris, Austin, Innocenti, Cooper, Cooper S… just as long as it was a Mini – the classic-shaped one, not the later BMW-era cars.

Four or five years ago, just before I could drive, I desperately wanted one to have as my first car to learn in. Unsurprisingly, my parents said no. We had no garage space and they would have had to be at least partially responsible until the point when I was finally able to drive it. 

But in 2023, the stars aligned. By that I mean I'd borrowed my aunt's car to pass my test, and the nice vicar down my road was happy to let me use her garage. Bingo! Except… while I had been busy being a not-so-well-to-do adult, the prices of Minis seemed to have ballooned. No longer was a nice late Rover MPI £3000: it was more like 10k. Not the kind of money I had to throw about. 

Luckily, I did eventually find the right one, and in 2023 I got the keys to a 1992 Rover Mini British Open Classic, which was just about within budget after a haggle. The clutch was on the way out, it hadn't been serviced in a few years and it had well over 150,000 miles on the clock.

And yet I loved it. It had had only one owner, had barely any rust and even had a Webasto fabric roof (that didn't work).

It was brilliant, and in less than two years, I put another 3000 fault-free miles onto it, taking it to Wales, the Lake District and the coast. With an MGB carburettor, it was peppy, and after my dad and I had restored it to its former glory, it was one of the best out there, if I do say so myself. I was the envy of everyone at every petrol station forecourt I entered.

And yet, by the time you read this, it will have crossed the Atlantic on its way to a new life in the US.

So why did it go? Well, it’s a sorry combination of London’s ULEZ, plus the vicarage where I kept the car being put up for sale. The Mini’s new owner doesn’t have any low-emission zones to worry about and has a garage, so they will be able to use the car regularly while keeping it clean and dry.

I probably could have found a way to keep it but, truth be told, I’d scratched the itch of Mini ownership after a few long trips. It turns out that a soft-top Mini wasn’t my ideal daily driver.

Wherever I drove it, I got frustrated – not necessarily at the car, but everything else involved with driving. If I chose to avoid the motorway and drive through the lovely Kent countryside instead, the potholes would send shivers through the car. And if I took the motorway route home, I'd end up with a headache from the vibration and noisy high revs caused by the four-speed gearbox. 

Whenever I finally found a smooth piece of asphalt on a good B-road, it was inevitably occupied by a Honda Jazz doing 30mph. 

It got to the point where I couldn’t see the pleasure in driving around in an old classic: the roads are knackered and busy, and to get to any decent driving roads, I have to sit on the motorway for ages. A more modern, multi-purpose toy was needed.

On the right road, in the right conditions, the Mini has been a blast to drive, but it was too compromised to keep as my only car.