Well, I can't refer to it as anything else. It would be politically incorrect of me to refer to it as an MG Midget, despite that's what it is.
This is going to be a short blog entry for once. I've discovered I need an old car in my life, but what's on the horizon, this isn't going to be practical at all. After spending a small amount of time in an MG Midget, photographed here, I've decided I want one.
Why was I in an MG Midget? To drive it to the Cornish Festival of Speed, held at Tregrehan House in St Austell, which was a fantastic day out and well worth any person's money to be honest. Lots of fantastic cars on display, of which this little MG was one of the exhibits, and lots of entertainment watching different types of cars compete for the fastest time on the sprint hill climb. Cars from Minis and Escorts through to single seat racers and purpose-built rally and racing machinery could be found competing.
So, why do I want an old car I can't even hear you ask. It's just back to basics pure driving, there's nothing between you, the car and the road. No electronic driving aids. No computermabobs to break. And on a day like it was, with the roof down, blue skies, sun shining and the shades on, it was fantastic. Put it this way, I was glad I ended up driving the Midget rather than the Alfa Mito or Giulietta the other guys took. What's happening? I'm hankering after an MG sports car and I don't even own a flat cap, or even have a beard or drink beer with bits of twig in it. I still want one. Despite the fact that something broke on the journey back. The bearings in the dynamo packed up. This is a British sports car after all, and something falling off or breaking on every journey really is normal.
And yes, I have realised this is yet another rant-free blog entry. I've just had nothing worth ranting about as late. I promise normal service shall resume shortly.
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