You only live twice Mr Bond. For us mere mortals however, such ressurections are not an everyday occurrence, and as such we have to content ourselves with just the one life before we go and argue the toss with St Peter.
His opening gambit may well be "Well now, let's see, what exactly have you done with your life then?" To which most of us would reply along the lines of " Not much your worship, but I had a rather jolly time of it in my youth, cavorted around a bit with various rumbustious types, had a passionate affair or three, got a job, settled down with wife and child, and bought a Mondeo" On hearing the word "Mondeo" St Peter slams shut the book, and promptly condemns you to the volcanic fires of Hell to watch daytime TV, read the Guardian, do some gardening and get you to admit to the wife that you really love her and that she looks particularly lovely and womanly when pregnant.
It need not be this way. For little more than the cost of a clapped out Fiesta, you could be lording it in one of Jaguar's finest. The value for money aspect of this purchase cannot be over emphasised, and must give more smiles per pound than any other car. Allow me to expand on what you could get for your grand. A V12 engine which delivers 300 bhp, pulls like the entire fleet of Virgin Rail, and propels the beast to 140 mph plus. You are ensconced in first class seating, upholstered in finest Connely leather, viewing well laid out dials within a burr walnut fascia. Gearbox is automatic - and very smooth - you usually have electric goodies aplenty to play with, handling is surpisigly good for a large car, and the view down the curvaceous bonnet and indeed the whole car is a piece of automotive sculpture from the hand of the finest British and Italian designers (Lyons and Michellotti).
You may get the impression I like these old beasts, and it would be true. The feeling of utter repose and benign munificence when driving, control of a herd of wildebeest under your right foot, and yes yes OK, the pose factor - or probably more accuratly the feeling of individuality in driving something other than a plastic bubble.
Should this tempt the more discerning of you out there, a few warning shots across the bow. A V12 is horrendously complex unless you are a space shuttle technician. It also does about 15 to the gallon if you are lucky, so don't even think about commuting in it. The straight 6 (XJ6) is more sensible and easier to maintain, if a little less OTT. I take the opinion that you may as well go the whole hog if you buy such items of profligate luxury, and I enjoy blowing spotty gits in Novas into the weeds, but then I am a complete arse. Go for the series 3's after 1983. The build quality is superior, you get all the goodies, and reliability is an improvement over earlier models. As with most cars, any smoke, rattles, knocks when changing gear etc is bad news so run away quickly. Best sources are owners club's classifieds. Autotrader vendors for these cars tend to be on the dodgy side - but this is purely my own experience. Dark colours are best, dark red looks superb, black is OK.
My own beast is admittedly just used at weekends, holidays and the like, so it tends to lead a fairly cosseted life. So far, all OK save replacing auxillery air valve, filters, bulbs etc. It needs new belts and air-con needs a bit of titivation but hey, I can open a window. Insurance is £225 on limited milage classic policy, but admittedly fuel is a tad OTT. Spares are very plentiful, and reasonable. Change the oil religiously according to the handbook.
It has drawn admiring glances and comment, mainly it has to be said, from pipe-sucking old beardies who think MG's are far superior, so I think them insane and pay no attention to them. It simply wafts along motorways, and is the sort of car you actually want to drive. Add some fine cigarrilos and a tuneful cassete and Paradise is regained after the stultifying experience that sometimes constitutes our lives these days.
Fopr the money these cars a a blast - literally if you put your foot down, and rest assurred your argument with St Peter will be a little less fraught. "A Jaguar!" excaliameth the saintly one. " You have indeed lived a little -please step this way. Incidentally the gaffer has one and a small problem with the air conditioning unit has arisen - fires from Hell, heat rising and all that. I was wondering if you could possibly......"
Oggers
Owned for 1 year.
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