REMEMBER the days when you were a kid? With millions of other scruffy, like-minded nippers, you spent dreamy days of childhood vowing to one day own and drive cars built by some of the great motor manufacturers from faraway places your even scruffier geography teachers never told you about. You know, Wolfsburg, Munich, Stuttgart, Coventry, Solihull and other ‘exotic’ (or not) motor cities.
Then before you know it, you’re in work, earning a few quid and able to at least buy used versions of sensible, reasonably priced models such as the Volkswagen Golf, BMW 3 Series, Mercedes C-Class or any number of ageing Jags and Land Rovers. The best, most carefree days of our adult lives? Probably.
Later, when the novelty of those all-too-familiar brands starts to wear off, the…
