Joan Scales has happy memories of a summer spent cruising around London
At 19, the last thing you want to do on a Sunday morning is get up early and go tramping around fields in the middle of England looking at cars. Or so I thought at the time, but the new boyfriend was very convincing - he just knew I would love it, and we might see something I would like.
Little did I realise that there was some oil in my veins. I must have got it from a father who changed cars at least once every year for the newest, hottest model and had been known to trade in cars. It must also have been all those weekends watching the Da hurtling around the stock car track.
Classic and vintage car shows are fascinating places; the clientele have only one thing in common - cars - and they come from across the social spectrum. After a couple of shows I began to recognise the same people. I also began to get the bug.
Before long I could distinguish between a Morgan and an Aston Martin, I even began of learn the slang.
The first car I fell in love it with was a 1930 two-litre Lagonda in fire-engine red. It was sheer class, a monster of a car with running boards, red leather interior, walnut dashboard, and huge headlamps. The four-litre version had won at Le Mans in 1935.
Week after week I met it at different shows and each time I became a different character in my own daydreams.
One week, Jay Gatsby was beside me as we cruised out to the Hamptons. Another week it was David Niven, as I drove at speed from Cap d'Antibes along the Corniche to Nice, hair and scarf flying in the Mediterranean breeze.
Much as I adored it, in truth the Lagonda was out of most people's reach, apart from the fact that it was not exactly a practical car for the streets of London. So we continued looking and after a couple of Sundays we found it.
It was so cute and stylish sitting there in a field in Leicester; it put everything around it in the shade.
The 1963 Mercedes 230 SL, affectionately known as The Pagoda because of the style of the roof, was introduced at the Geneva Motor Show as a replacement for the 190SL. The 0-60 mph time was 9.7 seconds.
This six-cylinder beauty was bright red with cream leather interior. The hard top could be removed to transform it into the sexiest little car that ever hit the streets of London.
And hit the streets of London is what I did. Every weekend, when the boyfriend was working, guess who went out cruising down the King's Road, Chelsea, top down and best friend in tow?
As soon as the boyfriend was dropped to work I would collect her and we would set off dressed to the nines - full slap, big hair and high heels. Only now I was Audrey Hepburn in Two for the Road, though her car was white.
The King's Road every Saturday afternoon was a great experience. We had to get the speed just right to ensure everyone saw us. Eventually we would park somewhere conspicuous and go shopping - not too far, though, because we had to keep an eye on the beauty.
We were the predecessors of Patsy and Edina, clicking around the shops in our high heels and adjourning to Blushes wine bar for lunch, car parked outside to catch the admirers.
It was a wonderful summer. Unfortunately the boyfriend wasn't and when we split up, he took the car back.