So, since the last blog post, the MG decided to break down almost weekly. Culminating in the drive shaft popping out at random intervals because the garage I used to use changed their staff and changed them for incompetent assholes. A few other issues and the fact I fell out of love with the damned thing, I ended up selling it. Presumably the next owner got fed up with it as well as it is no longer shows up on DVLA’s website.

So, I was looking for a replacement and happened upon a little white Skoda on Facebook. Someone had posted one of those really irritating, lazy bastard “WOT CARS U GOT 4 50P MUZT HAVE EMOTY N TACKS” threads and someone replied with the Skoda up for £300. I instantly sent the Skoda owner a PM, and within the hour was looking at it. The temperature gauge wasn’t working and the offside front door handle was calapst. Chancing that it was either a thermostat or a temp sender, I handed over 250 notes and was now the proud* owner of a Felicia.

So, I got it home and assessed what it needed. Turns out the brake lights didn’t work, so a brake light switch was sourced from my local motor factors for a fiver. A replacement door handle was sourced from eBay for less than a tenner, and a replacement thermostat housing, which included a new temperature sender, was sourced from Euro Car Parts for 20 quids worth of pounds. All fitted and solved the niggles. New wiper blades and a set of new old stock Skoda wheel trims tidied it up, and these were the only purchases I had to make over the next eight months.

Basic

The Felicias were never exactly bothered with standard equipment, the Felicia was a no-nonsense, no-frills car and that all adds up to the charm. Five doors, seats and an internal boot release were about all that was standard, however power steering was a welcome luxury. But with only a 1289cc OHV engine up front, it was hardly burdened with weight.

What it had instead was interesting and entertaining handling, a practical interior, solid build and an eager little engine of pre-historic design. Swiped from the Favorit, which in turn swiped it from the Estelle which in turn can trace its roots back to the Renault Dauphine, it provided nippy performance and an entertaining, if somewhat noisy, soundtrack. I love the sound of old pushrod engines. Well some, anyway, but that’s for another day.

Being based on the older Favorit, the Felicia’s a boxy old hector. This meant the interior was fabulously practical, with genuine seating for three in the back, decent headroom and excellent boot space. The fact the rear seats could be taken out completely gave a fantastic flat load space. With the front passenger seat folded flat, I managed to transport a king size mattress with ease.

I really enjoyed driving it. True, the steering sometimes had as little communication as a seasoned husband and wife, but it was adequate. The gearchange was pretty decent, the brakes had a good feel and the ride was far smoother than a car of this ilk had any right to.

Rugged

It provided eight months faultless motoring. Never failed to start, never left me stranded at the side of the road and was perfect right up until the final couple of journies. The gearbox became a little noisy and difficult to engage. It started rattling and eventually let go just around the corner from my house. Managed to nurse it home and there it waited with a wounded gearbox and lots of oil underneath until the scrap man turned up for it armed with 60 quid.

Would I have another? Absolutely. I loved it. I always liked the Felicia’s styling, I enjoyed driving it, I liked its no-nonsense charm, ruggedness and practicality. It stood up to my six year old trying to destroy its interior. More than anything else, over eight months it cost me £310 (excluding petrol, tax and insurance), that included buying it. That’s the same as two monthly payments for some bland, modern tractor engined eco* box. Driving shite has its advantages and it’s much more fun.

I feel a tad guilty for scrapping it, but my patience for idiots buying cars is at an all time low. I miss the old thing