Citroen AX 1.0 Jazz: Guilty Pleasures
Proof less is more - although John Mahoney didn't want to believe it at the time
That's why I'm on my second convertible in a row despite being neither a fan of wind-in-the-hair motoring or skin cancer - but I bought both because, at my laughable budget, the way they drove far outweighed their looks.
954cc, 45hp and quite wonderful
But as I piously preach to you from my PH pulpit that driving dynamics conquer all, I have to come clean. I haven't always been able to park my ego when car buying.
Ignoring the automotive atrocities I had to endure when I was a pup (as my no claims bonus slowly racked up) I most foolishly once bought a 1977 Land Rover Safari SWB over something far, far better to drive.
Instead of the rusty tractor I should have bought a 1991 Citroen AX. However, before you get excited, it wasn't the ultra-rare Sport, GT, nor even the GTI that came later.
Pah, who needs a GT when you have...
I'm serious - I relished every illicit moment behind the wheel of the AX. I say 'illicit' because the car was owned by my Dad's friend, Simon, who never knew how far (or fast) I was driving his London car.
Instead of driving the two or three miles to the MOT station or the tyre fitter, the little AX and I would embark on epic B-road cross country adventures.
It was the lightness that overwhelmed. Weighing just 640kg it was agile in a way I'd never experienced before. It was just so responsive to my clumsy inputs. Too fast meant huge understeer but get it right, be patient, and you could get the rear arcing-round like an old Carlton GSi 3000 - or that's what I thought anyway.
... a 1.0-litre special edition?
Of course it wasn't perfect. Turning the steering wheel made the dashboard physically move and the seat trim dissolved before your eyes leaving just yellow sponge. One of its more entertaining/annoying quirks was the AX's laissez-faire attitude to retaining its wheel trims - which forever meant retracing your journey to retrieve the plastic discusses from the hedgerows.
The four-speed was also nothing to boast about, but that little 954cc single carb engine was a hero. Unrestricted by any cat, it provided just enough go in the real-world to give an impression of a junior hot hatch. OK, that's not true - highlighted by its terrible 13.5-second 0-60mph time - but there was more than enough power to get me into trouble as well as that wonderful feeling of being able to drive a car near flat-out at the tender age of 17 without breaking speed limits or being anti-social.
So why didn't I buy the AX that was still low-mileage, rust-free and cost practically nothing when I was given the chance?
Diesel AX you say? Which way to the 'ring?
On my last ever drive (that needed a cool-down lap of the neighbourhood to cure the smoking brakes) I seriously considered life with the Citroen, I really did, but then I thought of the look on my smoking hot (imaginary) girlfriend's face when I picked her up for a date, or the ridicule of my (sadly, real) mates down the pub when I showed up in the Jazzmobile.
Why I didn't just peel the stickers off, throw the interior away and spend the rest of my life aiming for a sub-ten minute Nurburgring time, I'll never know - but instead a perfectly good car sorrowfully drove off to the scrapyard.
Mercifully, I learned from that feeling of regret and from that day on I can honestly say that a car's drive, not looks, has influenced every car buying decision I've made.
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