Remember last year when I wrote about buying second hand cars and how to avoid the bad ones? Earlier this year I found a car after a twelve month search. And it still turned out to be a bad one.
You wonder sometimes if inanimate objects have a hex placed on them, but the Renault Clio in question was a motorised paradox: it was so cheap to run it payed for its own repairs.
The first problem was the plastic grille at the front covering the radiator. It fell off. I didn’t know it had fallen off until I saw a gaping hole at the front. I found a replacement on Ebay, but it didn’t fit because it was for a Mk 3 Clio, and mines the Mk 2. What’s the difference? The ends of the radiator grille, that’s all; everything else is identical. When I returned the grille the man in the post office looked at the six foot long package and probably thought I was posting a body.
Second problem – and again I think I blogged about this in a post about noise. The rumbling whining sound turned out to be the wheel bearings at the back. So another tranche of money saved ended up ‘reinvested’ in the ongoing difficulties.
The third problem was an MoT advisory; a fault not serious enough to fail the test, but bad enough to require attention. Two days before it was due to go to the mechanics, the engine overheated. And this is when things took a sinister turn.
The mechanic noticed the car had a new engine block. Within the grease and grime and general wear and tear, the engine block shone like a diamond, and he wondered if the reason for a new block was the cause of the overheating.
The next problem was less mechanical, and more social. I came out of a garden centre cafe and found both number plates stolen. A £40 bill to replace them and the car possibly cloned in order to be used to carry out acts of crime or avoid paying for petrol.
Yesterday, the demon car started billowing steam from the coolant expansion tank, and as if that wasn’t evil enough, oil was in the water system. (Talk of cylinder head gaskets and oil coolers seem to be the most likely culprit.)
Today, I was told the cost of repairs was more than the car was worth and so, after six months, the demons have won and I am without wheels.
And thus, before I had time to get used to where the windscreen wipers are, the search begins again.
The Opening Sentence 
This doesn’t tell me what to do about it though you’re just venting
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Ugh, my heart goes out to you, Chris. My wife and I had a similar experience when we first got married. We had an old Honda Accord that wouldn’t give us one wink of sleep. Every day there was something that went wrong with it.
Eventually, we gave up, bit the bullet and bought a brand new car. It had only a few KMs, but that was because they had to ride it off the transport truck. That car lasted us twelve years. That thing would have kept going hadn’t it been for the rust under the chassis. We were afraid we’d be on the highway one night and the whole thing would fall apart. Thankfully we bought another brand new car.
I’m thinking used cars are great, if you end up with a good one. But I’ve always ended up with clunkers. But when I bought brand new–well, I’m not going to jinx what I was about to say next!
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Used cars are a lottery. A Pandora’s Box, as my mechanic said. Before the Renault my old Mazda lasted seven years and I wonder if I should have had the driveshaft done instead of buying the Renault.
Still, brand new is really the only way to go. Expensive up front, but you probably save in the long run if, like you, you don’t have any trouble with it.
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Where’s your motorbike? Sounds like that might be a better option…….
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The last motorbike was sold several years ago. I would be handy to have back-up transport like a bike. I might start to think about that…
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