Our car didn’t have a name but it was a Citroen so I have posthumously called it Cedric.
Yes. Posthumously. Cedric the Citroen is a deceased car. It is no more, etc. etc.
Dh got a call from the garage yesterday and they told him that the repair was too costly, so the insurance company have written it off. We were more than a little shocked. Outwardly, the damage looked quite minor – it needed a new bumper and some bodywork – but apparently there was some internal harm as well (damage to the floor) so we no longer have a car. We had to give the courtesy car back to the garage this morning (you can only have it while they’re doing the assessment and repair) so we are – temporarily – a car-free family.
If I’m honest I didn’t have a great deal of affection for Cedric as a piece of automotive art. He wasn’t remotely stylish or sexy but he was extremely practical. We bought him new in June 2007. We had debated the Picasso or the C3 (Dh got a discount through work) and luckily plumped for the larger car before we found out we were having twins. It was a fortuitous decision as there’s no way the double buggy and baby paraphernalia would have fitted in the smaller car.
It’s the car in which I was transported to attend a zillion antenatal appointments. It’s the car that took me, Dh, my parents and my sister to see the T-20 cricket finals day in Birmingham in August 2007. It was the car that we went to hospital in as a couple on 12th December 2007 and came home in as a family two days later. It’s taken us around the country to visit friends and family. It was a good car to ease myself back into driving after a 5 year hiatus. It was spacious and high-up so I didn’t feel intimidated on the busy London roads and surrounding motorways. It’s the car that the girls and I went to nursery and work in (through the Blackwall Tunnel in rush hour) for over a year. It took us on our first family holiday earlier this year.
Dh got to say goodbye to the car earlier when he went to pick up some bits and pieces we’d left in it. I was so convinced that the car would return, repaired and ready for more adventures that I didn’t even look out of the window when the repair lorry came to take it away a week or so ago.
As I said, I have no affection for the car as an object, but it represents so many events – so many occasions in our lives. Now, thanks to an Audi driver in a hurry, it’s time for us to find a new car.
I don’t think we could live without a car now but we definitely don’t need something as big as the Picasso now that we don’t have a massive buggy and baby paraphernalia to cart around. The courtesy car we had was a Corsa (Dh got to live out some boy racer fantasies…) which felt a little bit too small but we don’t need anything much bigger. We’ve been eyeing up the Volkswagen Polo (it seems German cars are bulletproof) and Toyota Yaris and when the insurance money comes through Dh and I will be car shopping.
For now, we’re reliant on public transport, walking and supermarket home deliveries. If anyone wants to visit, they have to come to us. I’m trying not to feel cabin-feverish at the thought.