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Our Range Rover
His Purchase

Decisions, decisions, all sorted by compromise and an impulse buy.

101Range Rover or
Forward Control?

What I really wanted was a V8. A 101 Forward Control, with a radio body would have been brilliant but a V8 Range Rover was more realistic and certainly a lot more practical and comfortable.

The Forward Control, in any guise, was a total non-starter, no way would my wife go for one and I must admit my technical expertise could not keep one on the road, even a V8 Range Rover was extremely unlikely.

Range Rover's Purchase

RR-BardseyTwo years ago I bought a book, Range Rover, Purchase and Restoration Guide, I had no desire to restore a Range Rover but I could dream about owning one.

Saturday 30th October 1999 saw Gromet weaving through the Derby traffic. We were exhausted after a particularly grueling Saturday spent in Derby's shopping centre.

Great heavy rain clouds lumbered across the leaden sky and violent rain squalls cut across our bows. We were stuck in a very slow line of traffic when I saw it.

A brilliant ray of golden sunlight split through the clouds and lit up a dark green Range Rover. This vision, on four wheels was at the front of a giant car lot, there were literally hundreds of cars for sale, BUT only one Range Rover and it beckoned to us

"Come to me" it said! "Buy me" it said,
"Take me away!" it said.

Week 2
Saturday 6th November 1999 saw Kirsty, Neil and myself leaving Derby once more, this time I pointed to the dark green Range Rover, still glittering amongst the other vehicles, but it had edged a little ahead of them and was defiantly more aloof. As I extolled it's virtues Kirsty and Neil humored me, "Oh no he is off again" but the Range Rover's headlights defiantly followed us as we slowly inched our way passed him.

"Come to me" it said! "Buy me" it said,
"Take me away!" it said.

Week 3
The following Saturday. Once again we were driving out of Derby, another hard days shopping completed. I continued with my monologue about the wonders of Dark Green Range Rovers as we approached the car lot,

"Come to me" it said! "Buy me" it said,
"Take me away!" it said.

Rosie gave up and told me to pull in and have a look at it, I did not need telling twice.

What a vehicle, leather interior, little folding tabls attached to the backs of the front seats, thick pile carpets, wall nut trim, air suspension and of course the all important 4.2 litre V8 engine. But it was late and the sales woman did not have the keys with her so we told her we would return the very next day. After all you should not rush such an important impulse buy. The Process Has BegunThat night I read everything I could about buying a Range Rover and got on the phone to Dave Lowe, he had masses of information, I duly wrote it all down, then went on his web site, and read a bit more before following his link to RPi of Norwich for even more information, this time I was looking specifically for information about V8 engines.

I spent the rest of the night waking up and seeing my dream dissolve, there are four houses on our drive and 11 cars, at times getting out is virtually impossible as vehicles crawl passed one another with millimeters to spare. A Range Rover was too expensive to buy, too expensive to run, too expensive to buy, too expensive to run, not enough room on the drive, too expensive to buy, too . . . and on and on and round and round it went.

In the morning my bleary eyes gazed down on the drive and, low and behold there was enough room to park it. Admittedly every night and every morning we would have to swap vehicles around but, in theory at least, it was possible, well maybe.Sunday 14th November 1999 - D Day, It had stopped raining as I crawled about under the Tank and peered in through it's windows. With a bleep and flash of the Tank's indicators the sales man arrived, "Lovely car, real quality, the owner had it chauffeur driven then gave it to his daughter""Oh yes" says I "But it is a gas guzzler and there is rust on the back wings. . ." I thought I was doing well, then he did it, the trump card, he started the engine, he knew how to put the knife in, how could I bring the price down now when I was literally floating 50mm off the ground as the purr of that beautiful V8 invaded every fiber of my being?

Yes he had me, hook line and sinker, he knew it, I knew it and Rosie knew it. Even the Range Rover knew it as we took it out for a test drive.

I valiantly tried to put up a battle, in between extolling it's virtues, I was doing the sales mans job for him, he was sitting there with a grin like a Cheshire Cat, in fact at one point he had to tell me to stop saying how wonderful it was or he would be forced to up the price a few thousand pounds. It did no good, by now I was beyond redemption, I was babbling but more importantly, to Nigel, I had just driven passed Morley, Nigel glanced at the red light on the fuel gauge and told me to pull in at the next lay by. I am sure he thought we were on our way to Scotland, with little or no fuel in the petrol tank.

The decision to purchase this magnificent vehicle was made, well in fact it was made the instant Rosie said "Go on, pull in and have a look." But we had to go through the motions. When he asked how much we wanted for the Granada I told him I did not care, I wanted the Range Rover! When he asked me what day it was I said I didn't know or care, I wanted the Range Rover, the deal was struck.

Week 4
Saturday 21st November 1999, I had a terrible cold, I was drugged up to the eye balls in cold cures as we set off for the garage, but we both felt uneasy. The insurance was through, it had been taxed, we had been told to come across on Saturday but something was not right and sure enough it was not! On our arrival Nigel devastated us, as he explained they were waiting for new brake pipes from Land Rover and we could not have the Range Rover yet!!!

Monday 23rd November 1999, at 16:58 Nigel phoned to say the brake pipes had arrived, valleting tomorrow, so it should be ready on Wednesday! It was.

Petrol - Petrol - Petrol
We drove our sparkling new purchase the 100 meters to the petrol station and stood agog as the petrol went into the tank and went in, and went in, and went in and just kept going in, there was no leak, I had a look, it just kept going in and going in. The real shock came a week later when the whole process started again. It was no good we would have to think about a LPG conversion.

The Tank is a dream to drive, it is beautiful, for months we drove around with silly smiles on our faces but the fuel bills are horrendous, you can almost watch the fuel gauge going down.

Back to the Garage. We had not even driven a couple of hundred miles before the Tank had to return to the garage for petrol, worse than that, it had to go back to Nigel. We knew it had to go back, the bonnet needed a re-spray after the previous owners horse scratched it with it's bridle.

He is all ours. We retrieved the Tank on Wednesday night and drove directly to the petrol station again.
It is now Saturday, we have visited the petrol station again, that is three times in two weeks, we are seriously considering a gas conversion . . .

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