The year was 2003 and with money that was supposed to fund my high school diploma, I bought this car, a 1986 Renault 11TSE for R5000.00 (which is the equivalent of about $300), complete with no working breaks and the key broken off in the ignition. Luckily for me, I was living with a family of car freaks, so hotwiring and then driving this car down to the workshop just added to the excitement of the purchase of my very 1st car.
I tell my story about my love of cars, and why this day was so important to me here:
Love Letters to My Cars: Part one
In the days before camera phones, I'm heartbreakingly disappointed that I have almost no photos of my very 1st car.
Here's one, taken by my friend from the backseat, on one of our crazy girls' days out. My hair is pitch black here: a clear indication that my goth phase was in full swing, and I can guarantee that my mix tape of Marilyn Manson, Rob Zombie, Rammstein and Metallica was playing as loud as it could on the 1980's original audio system.
I really had no idea how lucky I was to get my hands on a car like this, or how special it was until I'd owned and driven it for over a year. It truly was a wheelspinning, speedhungry, turbocharged madmachine on ridiculously thin tyres that found me on two wheels around bends on a number of occasions.
Fuelled by rebellion against people who had told me I would never be able to drive or maintain a car because I was dimwitted and female, I drove the absolute bejesus out of this car, and the harder I drove her, the harder she performed.
It really is an absolute miracle that either one of us made it out of the two years we spent together in one piece, but we did.
I managed to rip out the gear box mounting from the force of the sheer amount of wheelspins I used to do for fun and went through at least two sets of tyres.
She hated mornings as much as I did, and would not start unless I let her run with the throttle switch fully pulled out for at least 15 minutes. She had no working heater or de-mister, so I had to use a cloth and constantly coat the windshield with a very thin layer of sunlight (dishwashing liquid) that would assist in visibility and reduce condensation. On really bad mornings, I had to drive with my head out of the window, which was great fun in the pouring rain.
She also hated the heat and the previous owner had fitted an additional air cooling system which I could switch on manually if she started overheating in traffic.
In this car, I learnt to change a tyre, check my own oil, water and break fluid, use antifreeze, replace headlamp and indicator globes and even install my own battery.
I later found out, that this particular model won car of the year, several years in a row in the 1980s during its manufacture between 1983 and 1986 and its predisposition for insane off-road rally driving explained why I was able to get away with so much.
I eventually sold her to a German Tourist couple, so that I could upgrade to my 1984 320i BMW, who tried to drive her to Namibia without ever stopping to check the oil and water. Just like that, they blew the motor. After all she had been through with me. I was heartbroken.
Aside from the fact that they were only manufactured up until 1986, Renault also left South Africa due to political sanctions - only returning in the 1990s, which meant spares for while I owned her were impossible to find (Yes, the guys at Renault SA literally laughed at me when I called them looking for an original part, and I used to eye out other ones on the road, wondering if anyone would notice if I pinched something off them). It also meant, that going to fetch her or buying her back from the scrapyard to rebuild was completely pointless. I had to let her go. To this day, I regret not going to retrieve an indicator, badge or lever to keep to remind me of our special time together. She still visits me in my dreams and will forever be a part of me.
