Slow and smelly wins the race: My £2500 supermini proved budget motoring is still possible – and fun
I like to think I’m the sort of person who doesn’t follow trends, who does things just that little bit differently from everyone else – so here’s my newly acquired Ford Fiesta.
If I’d had my way, my partner would be running around in a Daihatsu Cuore Avanzato or a Talbot Matra Rancho, having passed her driving test a few months ago. Alas, her requirements for a first car were rather more centred on efficiency, reliability and practicality than esotericism, so it came down to a supermini, and this 2009 1.4-litre Titanium 5dr finally won us over by virtue of being fairly decent value, the right colour and less than five miles from home.
It’s fine, really, but for the £2500 we paid I might have asked for a better-smelling interior, a working boot release and carpets that were still glued to the floor. It’s not holding up badly for a 130,000-mile supermini, though, truth be told: it still pulls well, steers tightly and stops straight.
I was rather disappointed that we only managed around 30mpg over the first 100 miles, but I attributed it to my newly qualified partner’s rev-happy suburban driving style and assumed the figure would improve as her right foot lightened with time.
That is until I stopped to pump up a slightly pillowy rear tyre and discovered we were shockingly low on pressure at each corner. I’m expecting a massive increase in efficiency now that they’re all properly pumped up, and the car is tangibly more responsive and better-riding, to boot. One pound well spent.
A beginner’s guide to aroma therapy
Used car buying guides will always tell you to check for rust, knackered clutches, dicky electrics and all sorts of other common foibles you might find on a second-hand motor.
What they don’t tend to warn you about is the smell. So when the interior of my 135k-mile Fiesta started honking bad enough to make me gag, I didn’t know what to do. I can’t describe it: imagine a thick, cloying funk of old, moist organic matter. A pretty grim fragrance – more Vom Ford than Tom Ford.
I cleaned up a smattering of mould under the damp rear carpet and invested in some silicon sacks that (brilliantly) keep the cabin dry in winter, but still the aroma persisted. After a while I realised that it was at its worst when I turned the blower up, which gave me an idea…
A quick scan of the forums and I had my culprit: the cabin filter. For the princely sum of about £8 I had a replacement in my hands just 24 hours later, and set about the quick task of swapping it in.
And thank goodness I did. Not only was the old filter a putrid shade of green-grey, it was also decorated with a fairly thick layer of loose, unidentifiable grime and crumbled as I removed it from its housing. These are meant to be replaced every two years – I’d be surprised if this had been in the car less than 10. A cautionary tale… When did you last do yours?
Otherwise, this high-mileage hero has been serving us pretty well, so I was surprised to get a panicked phone call from my finacée while abroad the other day, alerting me to an alarming amount of white smoke coming from the car on start-up. That certainly did sound worrying, particularly as the car isn’t worth enough to warrant a costly head gasket replacement, so I was keen to have a look myself when I got home.
Impatient as my better half is (and warned by alarmist associates that it could blow up at any minute), she couldn’t wait that long and summoned the RAC, who arrived quickly and kindly went through the motions before confirming my quietly-held suspicions: it was a bit of a cold day, and the white smoke was just steam from the condensing exhaust gases.
Annoying, but no better repair than one that doesn’t need doing. On we go.
A breakdown too far?
You never want to smell burning oil when you’re driving – much less on Easter Sunday when you’re 80 miles from your destination, running late and have a boot full of chocolate eggs that need delivering urgently.
I resisted the urge to remind my partner that we could have taken a shiny new electric car for the trip to see her family in Birmingham and instead quickly ascertained that oil was leaking from the rocker cover onto the exhaust manifold – but not severely enough to make me consider an extended stay at Oxford services.
Holding our breath, and with one eye on the hard shoulder, we nursed the Fiesta back down the M40. Soon after, I treated it to a new gasket as a reward for staying alive – good timing, really, because it looks like I’ll soon be moving the Fiesta on to make space for a new car.
Naturally, though, now that discussions about its replacement have begun in earnest, the Fiesta has been on its best behaviour. It’s been whizzing up and down the M40 and trundling around south London for weeks now without a hitch (if you ignore the irritating pulley rattle and dicky electric mirrors), so I’ve also treated it to a deep clean and a new front badge to make it look a bit less downtrodden.
It even caused a bit of an upset at the bookies by passing its MOT with no advisories. That in itself was a massive relief, because I can’t bring myself to put any significant money towards keeping this thing on the road – no matter how much I find myself begrudgingly appreciative of its charms.
If I were feeling a bit frivolous and silly, I might be tempted to allocate some funds towards making it just a bit peppier; this wheezy 1.4-litre Duratec had a respectable 95bhp from new but I’d wager it’s leaked out a good glug over the last 16 years, and the clunky, sluggish Powershift auto ‘box to which it’s mated does it no favours. You know it’s bad when you get overtaken by an old Defender towing a horse box on a stretch of uphill dual carriageway…
Final report: Farewell to the Fiesta
My partner and I bought this leggy, 130k-mile 2009 Fiesta on a whim the day after she passed her driving test last year. It ticked a lot of boxes in being automatic, black, three-door, a bit snazzy and local – and on a brief test drive it seemed up to scratch in spite of its mega mileage.
If I’m honest, I’d have checked it more thoroughly, but before I started haggling with the dealer, my partner had already given it a name and showed all her friends her ‘new car’ – so it was coming home whatever happened.
We didn’t do too badly; over the course of around 5000 miles the Fiesta didn’t have any major meltdowns. A scary-looking oil leak was quickly fixed with a new rocker gasket; re-sealing the rear tyres stopped them deflating; fiddling with the wires in the bootlid silenced the temperamental alarm; and I made the cabin smell slightly less deathly by deep-cleaning the A/C system.
The 1.4 donkey only averaged about 33mpg on a cruise, and sweet lord it was slow. But I actually quite enjoyed driving it for the uncorrupted nature of its steering, simple cockpit and surprisingly resolved ride. Decent spec, too, with cruise control, rain-sensing wipers, electric mirrors – enough to make it feel suitably modern.
I won’t miss it too dearly; we got most of our money back and the shiny new Renault 5 company car that’s replaced it is vastly more stylish and easier to use – but having not owned an old banger for several years, I enjoyed the sense of propriety and cash-savviness that comes with keeping your own motor.
