My First Car: Holey Anglia finally floored by rust

Terry Hunt inherited a similar Ford Anglia as his first car and became an escape route for fellow sc

Terry Hunt inherited a similar Ford Anglia as his first car and became an escape route for fellow school pupils. - Credit: supplied

Terry Hunt's inherited Ford Anglia put him on the road to adventure... until holes in the floor made him feel like Fred Flintstone.

My grandfather generously gave me my first car – his 1965 grey Ford Anglia. I learned to drive in it, passing my test first time on Monday, September 9, 1974.

Even though the car was only nine years old when I inherited it, the Anglia was already showing signs of serious wear and tear. Every Sunday, my granddad and I would spend hours patching up the front wings, which were being eaten away by the mud from the road being thrown up on the inside of the bodywork. It wasn't long before the wings comprised of more filler and Brillo pads than metal.

But it did me proud. It was an easy car in which to learn how to drive. And I had some adventures.

It was great to be able to drive to school, rather than take the bus. Well, at least for one day it was. On the second day of my new-found freedom, I crashed into the self same school bus on the narrow Suffolk country lanes. Cue another spell on the bus, while granddad sorted out the dents…


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Being a car owner, and attending a school which mostly consisted of boarders – Framlingham College, I quickly became viewed as a handy escape route.

I recall very naughtily going to a Status Quo concert at the Ipswich Gaumont (now the Regent) with three mates who were boarders, the night before an A-level exam. How daft was that? We got caught, inevitably, and all ended up in headmaster Laurie Rimmer's study, being told in no uncertain terms how stupid we'd been.

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I can't remember how long I kept the Anglia, but it was no more than a year or maybe 18 months. Soon I began noticing holes in the floor. I could see the road below flashing past. So, there was a choice – either carry on driving something which was rapidly starting to resemble Fred Flintstone's car, or say a sad farewell to my first car. As I was off to university by then, I didn't see the final drive to the scrapyard.

Fickle as we car drivers are, a little while later it was replaced by a lovely, pea green Vauxhall Viva. But that's another story.

You never forget your first car so share your memories of adventures and disasters of your first set of wheels. It doesn't matter how old it is, just email your motoring memories with a picture of the car to motoring@archant.co.uk or post it to Andy Russell, motoring editor, Prospect House, Rouen Road, Norwich, NR1 1RE.

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