For as long as I can remember, I've loved Minis. I wasn't really fussed whether it was a Morris, Austin, Innocenti, Cooper, Cooper S… just as long as it was a Mini – the classic-shaped one, not the later BMW-era cars.

Four or five years ago, just before I could drive, I desperately wanted one to have as my first car to learn in. Unsurprisingly, my parents said no. We had no garage space and they would have had to be at least partially responsible until the point when I was finally able to drive it. 

But in 2023, the stars aligned. By that I mean I'd borrowed my aunt's car to pass my test, and the nice vicar down my road was happy to let me use her garage. Bingo! Except… while I had been busy being a not-so-well-to-do adult, the prices of Minis seemed to have ballooned. No longer was a nice late Rover MPI £3000: it was more like 10k. Not the kind of money I had to throw about. 

Luckily, I did eventually find the right one, and in 2023 I got the keys to a 1992 Rover Mini British Open Classic, which was just about within budget after a haggle. The clutch was on the way out, it hadn't been serviced in a few years and it had well over 150,000 miles on the clock.

And yet I loved it. It had had only one owner, had barely any rust and even had a Webasto fabric roof (that didn't work).

It was brilliant, and in less than two years, I put another 3000 fault-free miles onto it, taking it to Wales, the Lake District and the coast. With an MGB carburettor, it was peppy, and after my dad and I had restored it to its former glory, it was one of the best out there, if I do say so myself. I was the envy of everyone at every petrol station forecourt I entered.

And yet, by the time you read this, it will have crossed the Atlantic on its way to a new life in the US.

So why did it go? Well, it’s a sorry combination of London’s ULEZ, plus the vicarage where I kept the car being put up for sale. The Mini’s new owner doesn’t have any low-emission zones to worry about and has a garage, so they will be able to use the car regularly while keeping it clean and dry.

I probably could have found a way to keep it but, truth be told, I’d scratched the itch of Mini ownership after a few long trips. It turns out that a soft-top Mini wasn’t my ideal daily driver.

Wherever I drove it, I got frustrated – not necessarily at the car, but everything else involved with driving. If I chose to avoid the motorway and drive through the lovely Kent countryside instead, the potholes would send shivers through the car. And if I took the motorway route home, I'd end up with a headache from the vibration and noisy high revs caused by the four-speed gearbox. 

Whenever I finally found a smooth piece of asphalt on a good B-road, it was inevitably occupied by a Honda Jazz doing 30mph. 

It got to the point where I couldn’t see the pleasure in driving around in an old classic: the roads are knackered and busy, and to get to any decent driving roads, I have to sit on the motorway for ages. A more modern, multi-purpose toy was needed.

On the right road, in the right conditions, the Mini has been a blast to drive, but it was too compromised to keep as my only car.