|'Bye 'bye, little guy|
When my husband fell in love with this little Pajero, (ladies, this is a kind of car), I was inclined to be indulgent - after all, I like him to be happy. However, I do leave it up to him to be sensible when he embarks on this kind of affair. After all the initial problems and his many hours working on the car's innards, until everything was working perfectly, it was time to take the car into the garage to have the tow bar fitted. I would remind you that the purpose of buying this elderly and cheap little car was to save our big car from salt water damage as this little 4 x 4 would be ideal for launching his semi-rigid (ladies, this is a boat in case your naughty minds were thinking of something else). After a week, we duly drove into town in our big car to fetch it only to be told that it is not possible to fit a tow-bar to this model. It had escaped my husband's notice that all the photos he had hastily looked up on the Internet when he wanted to buy the car, were actually of the bigger 4-door version - all of which sported tow bars. A calamity indeed. The car is now of no use at all. We have no alternative but to sell it; apparently, there is a market as it is a great little off-road vehicle from 'up North' and so is without rust and not everyone needs a tow-bar. Of course, there has to be something of a mourning period, not to mention buyer's remorse of which there is a great deal in the air around our house at the moment. I am keeping a low profile and also my mouth shut.