Exiting a Mini can be a complicated, undignified affair.
Rather than alighting gracefully, you pour out like a human puddle.
I discover this en route to Lake Waikaremoana, at a Wairoa service station, while filling up Tweety, a 1976 Leyland Mini.
Lake Waikaremoana from Lou’s lookout
There’s something romantic and rather exciting about a road trip, piloting the car you learned to drive in.
But 20 years after whizzing around an abandoned aerodrome in the UK, crunching gears and destroying clutches, the reality is proving somewhat different.
This is hysterical. Actually had the opposite problem. Our car gave out on our two month roadtrip and we decided to get a rental and continue. However, the only thing they had was this massive Chevy Suburban. I was slithering down the driver’s side every time we had to stop.
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I toned down quite how ridiculous the adventure really was for the magazine article … but despite all of that i am now buying a new mini!
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