Real life | 14 April 2012

Fuel crisis? What fuel crisis. I’m driving around in a car that does 50pmg.

Well, it said 50 on the gauge when I bought it from the nice City worker from New Zealand, and he was driving it up and down the vertiginous slopes of Forest Hill.

Within days of me owning it, and driving it up and down the distinctly flat A3, it was averaging 46.

Now, let’s put this in perspective. I was averaging 26mpg in the Volvo. I used to dream of 27. Wild, fevered dreams I had, in which I became the only Volvo driver in history to get 27. But the best I ever got out of it was 26.9 — on the last day I drove it, ironically.

So, in a way, Aviva did me a favour by slapping a huge insurance premium on me after my phantom crash, because then I had to get a more sensible run-around.