The race to Le Mans isn’t a race in the way you might think. It all started last year, in July when I registered interest in going to the Le Mans Classic event, with Classic and Sports Car. Seeing as I own one of their old feature cars (the cheapest and rustiest one) I figured it was perfect to take it along and enjoy the event. I copied a friend in Norfolk and he was up for it so a plan was, rather loosely, formed.

You see, when I sent the information off, I was sat with my foot up on holiday in Thailand. I had snapped my Achilles tendon in my right leg and little did I know I’d end up so far behind with everything that actually getting to go would prove to be a race in itself, against time.

Five months later, post operation, and I could barely use a foot pump let alone do anything else which required mobility around a vehicle to affect any kind of repair.

As soon as I could walk unaided I was allowed back to work and off on business travel. Walking around airports in Europe going between connecting flights was hilarious, taking over half an hour to cover fifteen minutes distance normally. I was like some immobile object, much like the car was, but that was stuck in the UK and I was elsewhere…

Fast forwards to March this year and not much had changed, except for the fact that realisation had sunk in and I was not going to be anything like ready to go. Except for plan B, take the Saab. My £300 sight unseen purchase of a 1990 9000i 2.3 auto two years previous. I was reminded of the Purchase date due to the lapsed MOT…

So, I had an un-roadworthy car, which after 5 years of hibernation in a garage, had a set of rubbish tyres fitted, the brakes going over the oils changed etc to get running and legal. Since then all I had done was changed the oil again and spent 97p on repairs. There was a list of things that I really should do before attempting to go anywhere too far in it.