MiniAid

YOU could almost imagine Bob Geldof and his buddies singing songs to save cars like the one I’ve just driven.

Unfortunately, I can’t see the next re-release of Do They Know It’s Christmas being used to help rescue rotting old motors, so us mere mortals had to step in instead when it came to stopping this two-decade old Mini from meeting its maker.

And do you know what? I feel proud I’ve played my part.

Admittedly, it’s familiar territory – I already own one – but beneath £100’s worth of rot and rust is actually a perfectly good car, which if a few mates and I hadn’t stepped in to save would have been heading to a scrap yard this Friday.

People go on about saving puppies and small children but they never stop to think about the forgotten machines hiding behind hedges and in garages – machines that are part of our culture and heritage, yet are being squandered as part of the Government’s scrappage scheme.



I’m not going to deny that this 1989 Mayfair model’s not going to need a lot of TLC, but on a quick test drive it felt exactly the same as my own Mini. It’s not a rust bucket, but someone’s pride and joy that’s been cruelly forgotten.

The new owner’s one of these James May characters who already has two Ford Capris, a Golf GTi, a Metro, and a Ford Racing Puma, which already probably constitutes more cars than anyone could really need (and two don’t even work). But he’d bleed Castol R if you cut him, so he happily breached a self-imposed ban on any more motors to give an unloved Mini the care it deserves.

And even if he hadn’t stumped the £100 asking price, I probably would have just to make sure it’s got a loving home. You might worry about attaching so much sentiment to a machine, but the Flying Scotsman or Concorde wouldn’t be allowed to wither away either.

Forget Animal Hospital and trendy charity records. Do something really remarkable by rescuing an old car instead…