Rule number one: avoid taking public transport at all costs. I jest (it would be politically incorrect to seriously suggest that). The Delhi Metro is actually pretty good – I hear! “If everyone takes public transport, I’ll have the roads all to myself,” says the strangely familiar looking devil on my left shoulder – with a glint in his eye. “If everyone takes public transport, it’ll be better for the environment,” says the suspiciously serene looking angel on my right – with a glazed look in his eye. So, everyone’s happy then… My excuse for buying my first car wasn’t the appalling condition of the prevailing public transport at the time, but the unavailability of it altogether. The year was 1999; the place was the Silicon Valley in California. I was a foreign student on financial aid looking for a way to sneak my way into the cockpit of my own set of wheels. Doesn’t hurt to dream, does it? Well, dreams lead to actions – and so I found myself entering a ‘suspiciously’ dingy shed in Redwood City one Saturday morning. There was a beautiful bright red 1987 BMW 325is strategically placed so you couldn’t miss it as you walked in. It was a far cry from the old Honda or Toyota that I was looking for to provide cheap (but private) transport for a couple of months – before it was time to pay the next instalment of tuition fees that is. The BMW had an air of drug-dealers’ ride about it. It was seriously lowered. It had a very low front air-dam. A wooden Momo wheel. Momo rims. Blacked out rear windows. I was in love! In truth, I’m not one to be partial to drug dealers – or their accoutrements – but this was a really special looking machine. The auction itself wasn’t exactly being run by Sotheby’s – all the cars were physically chained to the ground, so you could start them but not actually drive away in them. The man conducting the bidding stood on a crate in front of the car being auctioned, which had a cone placed on the roof to put it in the (still somewhat dim) spotlight. I was tinkering around the 3 Series for a while, before realising that I was getting in over my head. I chose the sensible option of staying away from an old BMW that I knew nothing about, and went in search of more mundane motoring. Until the bidding started that is. The moment that man stood on the crate in front of my BMW, I found myself drawn to the car in a trancelike state. My hand took on a life of its own as it fought a valiant battle of wits with another man who was bidding for the 325 just ahead of me. Three strikes and I got lucky – I was suddenly the very weary owner of an E30 BMW. The announcement came as a bit of shock – I felt a little like a deer in the headlights for a moment. What in god’s name had I done? I didn’t even know if the car could drive. More importantly, I didn’t know how I would pay for the car, or make my next tuition payment. But, all’s well that ends well. In this case, it all came good as soon as I hit the gas pulling out of the auction house a few hours later. Oh, what a sweet sound. There’s nothing like a BMW inline six. Or is there? You see, for this issue, I experienced a car that I’ve only dreamt of thus far – an M3 of the same vintage powered by a race-ready four cylinder engine. Now, this was just a thinly veiled racecar for the road that was a lot more extreme than my 325. I even remember how my mechanic scoffed when I asked if we could attempt an M3 conversion on my E30 at some point in its life. It took a while, but I finally drove the original M3! So, was it worth the fuss? Well, you’ll have to turn the pages to find out…
Write your Comment