My dream fleet: it was never enough

I have been through a lot of cars and motorbikes. Among them: four Porsches (one of which, yes, I wrapped around a barrier), four BMWs, an Audi 1.8 turbo quattro, two or three Mercedes, a VW Scirocco, a Camaro, a wonderful Honda CRX…

And no. It was never enough.

I belong to a very lucky generation. We lived through the whole evolution of the modern machine. Most cars - and most motorbikes - of the ’70s, even the ’80s, had serious flaws. This one had no brakes, that one had no suspension, the other one simply rusted away.

But we loved those old heaps dearly. We spent years learning to live with them. Meanwhile, bit by bit, everything got better, safer, more reliable. Most of us got away with a few broken ribs - and not only ribs…

They were thrilling years. From the buckets of the past - drum brakes, carburettors - we watched, year by year, the mutation into today’s high-tech machines. Who back then could have imagined ventilated discs and fuel injection? Let alone ABS, ESP and airbags.

Back then, the car spoke first. The carburettor told you how cold the morning was, the wheel told you what the road was doing, and if something was wrong, you smelled it before any warning light could tell you. You drove with your hands, your ears, and a little faith. Today the car speaks first - screens, sensors, software correcting your mistake before you've even made it. We gained a lot. I'm not sure we kept the conversation.

We were madly, hopelessly in love. Nothing was ever enough. We kept it flat out for thirty years before lifting. Whatever we got our hands on had to be wrung dry - even a 2CV, even a moped. Those of us who could went racing. Still not enough. We crashed, we rolled, and we learned absolutely nothing. Hooked.

Me? I’m still on it. I don’t know if - or when - this ever gets cured. I also get bored of them rather quickly, and when they start to age, it physically hurts… If I had the money and the space I’d want three or four cars and a few bikes to play with. But not to marry them. So if I had my dream fleet, I’d want to be able to refresh it too. Get well soon, me.

Because deep down I know exactly what I'm chasing. It isn't the horsepower, or the sound of the exhaust. It's that first afternoon, twenty-two years old, hand on the gearstick and an empty road ahead - the thing every new car quietly promises to give back, if only for a moment. I know it can't. I buy it again anyway.

The dream fleet

Anyway - if we’re going to dream, let’s dream properly. No penny-pinching. Dreams are free.

So my dream fleet could include: a 911 (maybe a 991). A super-SUV with six hundred or so horses for the long hauls (an Audi RS Q8 would do nicely). An electric Mini Cooper S for the city. And I wouldn’t mind a Wrangler Rubicon either - beach in the summer with the bimini top, snow in the winter, and never once fitting chains.

As for bikes, just a few… A CBR1000RR (I reckon I’d take it out twice and put it up for sale before it killed me). A serious Ducati Hypermotard for town (I never did travel by motorbike). A nice four-stroke enduro (a Beta RR300, perhaps?). And maybe a Harley bobber with a two-up seat and low bars for evening rides - my wife would happily climb on that one.

For this last part I will, of course, get roasted by my hard-core friends… May they forgive me - and may they dream along with me.

What’s your dream fleet? Write to us.