Bobert, Richard and especially Spaw seem to have had most of the horrendous experiences I've had!

The Austin 1300GT. Bought from a friend (well, he came to my wedding) who ran a small garage and did a bit of ducking and diving on the side. He was the son of a police sergeant. Moral there somewhere. This car went just like a Cooper but did not have a Cooper crankshaft to match. I spent a lot of time looking over so-called friends' shoulders at the tachometer while they were driving as I had visions of the crank popping its clogs. I also spent quite a lot of time smelling of five star; one SU carburettor persistently went off song (see Spaw's memories).

One nearly lethal experience with the 1300GT - rear engine mounting. The rubber bit had disintegrated, causing embarrassing noises and violent to-ing and fro-ing. My workmate offered to fix it; he was a Mini racer and a bit of a character - married to a lady who had been one of Mike Hawthorn's harem.

I took the 1300 round & he started to extract the engine mounting and replace it with a new one. I suddenly realised a wisp of smoke was curling up from the steering wheel area; this turned to a little flame, then a bigger one. I bleated "Andy – FIRE!" and tried to beat out the now serious flames with my hands. Big mistake – a burning gob of plastic stuck to my right hand, causing a scar which is still there thirty odd years later. Never did three people move so fast; I recoiled from the car, shaking the burning plastic off – Andy shot out from under the car like a rocket and removed the battery leads – and Andy's wife rushed out of the kitchen and poured saucepans full of water over me, Andy and the car.

I sold it soon after to a lad who took one week to break the crankshaft!