The people's car
2009-11-03 11:32
Two noteworthy things happened this weekend. First, a well-heeled but flustered housewife, trying to pay for her parking at the Waterfront with a wad of R200 notes and a contemptuous litter of private school brats hanging clinging to her, called me a "nice young man". Rather benevolently, I gave her R10 in coins to save her the pain of fishing out R190 in ones and twos from the parking pay machine.
You see, unlike the infinitely more virtuous Georgina, I only help those with well-manicured nails and breeze resistant coiffures, and avoid injudiciously handing out loose change to bereft looking scallywags at Spar. That way I avoid the scams, but still feel good about making the world a friendlier place. And besides, just acknowledging someone else's existence in Cape Town is a step in the right direction to building bridges.
However, far more important than my charity work was the announcement from Volkswagen that they would soon cease production on that timeless, clattering classic, the Citi Golf. This is a sad day for young South Africans indeed. If your first car wasn't a Citi then you've missed out.
Luckily they seem to run forever and future young drivers will still be able to experience the stutteringly famous Citi staccato choke start, the numerous and repeated break-ins, the earthy mould smell of the cloth interior that appears over time no matter how many sachets of Sta-Soft you plant inside the car and, of course, the complete and utter malfunction of all the windows until you're driving around in a steamy sarcophagus or an invigorating wind tunnel (depending on whether the window mechanics expire while rolled up or down).
But eventually the Citis will run dry and many young men and women on South Africa's roads will never experience the freedom of the Citi and the joys of what should be everyone's first car. I knew a guy once whose first car was a gargantuan and perpetually ill Mazda 626. It was the kind of car that had to be resuscitated should it drop below the 30km/h mark and a driving experience that was akin to manoeuvring a wheezing tugboat around the tame streets of Grahamstown. The Mazda experience was so traumatic for this particular gent that he eventually sold it for a six-pack of Fanta and plastic bag full of R10 notes somewhere in Umfolozi, and now fritters his money away on hair plugs and Subarus.
I, on the hand, enjoyed the pleasures of a 1995 bright red, four-speed sprightly Citi Golf called Biscuit. Ah, those were the days. It always started promptly on the fifth attempt and you only had to push the choke back in after 45 minutes of steady driving. On dirt roads bits of the car's inside would cheerfully fall from the ceiling, while on rainy and cold days, if more than one person was in the car, it would steam up so drastically, with such little effect from the heater, that you'd have to pull over to the side of the road and wait for winter to end before continuing on your way.
I drove that little car back and forth from Grahamstown to Cape Town and on secret trips to Hermanus to visit my then girlfriend until the tiny 1.3 litre engine begged for mercy. On one road trip a cassette got stuck in the tape deck and the partying hordes on my back seat had to be content with listening to some Danish one-hit wonder whose name presently escapes me, but whose terrible song will always be associated with a border collie and a gutter in Port Alfred.
On another occasion, Western Cape club cricket legend Neil Quayle inexplicably, yet memorably, drove Biscuit down the N2 hill into Knysna at 160km/h and in third gear in the year 2000, forever rendering the car' fourth gear ineffective and banishing himself to navigating duties for the remainder of the trip.
Near death experiences, too, are so much more real in a Citi. Carlo, the world's worst navigator, once implored me to drive into a rather deceptively stationary boulder while myself and six other passengers sang along gaily, hands in air, to Paul Simon's Graceland album. While overtaking is always an adrenalin pumping experience in a chattering Citi.
You can keep your trendy Polo curves, Hyundai competence and Toyota reliability. Give me the clean, efficient German lines of the Citi any day. The people's car indeed.
Send your comments to David
Disclaimer: News24 encourages freedom of speech and the expression of diverse views. The views of columnists published on News24 are therefore their own and do not necessarily represent the views of News24.
- News24