A Certifiable Fanatic

It was while standing on a bus stop with a friend during the mid-seventies that I first took any notice of a Ford Capri. Banana yellow, with hugely out of proportion flared wheel arches and a sun strip which read 'Have it off at Giggles' (a nearby hair salon), it would have been difficult to miss this one. Frankly, she looked awful, but beneath the cosmetic 'improvements' her loving owner had bestowed upon her, the gracious lines she shared with her sisters were still in evidence, together with the now familiar sound of a mighty engine that could drink the Middle East dry. I was immediately bound in a spell that remains unbroken to this day.

My first Capri was a little mint green number, whose age and specification are lost in the mists of time. Every week, my husband would be practically holding his breath in a valiant attempt to appear patient as he tried to teach me to drive on the deserted car park of a former football stadium. Never once did he complain, but after one particularly harrowing session, he took my Capri to pieces and sold them as spares. A little extreme, I thought…

The way I see it, if it's not a Capri it's just an Ordinary Car, and some of this enthusiasm was bound to rub off on my husband eventually, even if he does see most of them as a means of making money. 1.6 'Beastie Baby' was a slightly battered looking Mk II, in Midnight Blue, and came as part of a deal for a more glamorous Diamond White 3.0 model. The three litre was duly sold, and we were left to cruise the streets of Bristol in Beastie Baby, which I'm ashamed to say, embarrassed me enormously.

Everywhere we went, it seemed that people were staring at her. Of course they were staring at her, she was a head turner, she was a Ford Capri - but all I was aware of was her faded bodywork and an engine that seemed like a sewing machine in comparison to what we were used to. With every passing glance we caught, I'd sink lower into the passenger seat until I was practically at street level (not difficult in a Capri!), and couldn't agree to the idea fast enough when it was suggested we sell her on to a friend.

Several months later, Beastie Baby turned up outside my front door, along with her owner, who casually announced his intention to scrap her. Scrap a Capri? Ten minutes later, he wore a £100 smile, while I wore the expression of one who'd just been the victim of an underhand tactic to persuade her to buy a wreck on wheels. I defended her for a year against comments like 'It's hanging!' and 'Scrap it!' before selling her on to a fellow enthusiast who is currently renovating her somewhere across town.

By this time, we'd crossed paths with 'The Flying Tiger'. Owned twice already by my husband, I was determined that she'd be mine if ever she came our way again. On New Years Eve 1999, my wish came true. The Tiger is a Mk I, 2.8 show car, a gorgeous old lady who more than deserves her own story, one which once spawned a web site banner reading 'Faster than the Queen Mother drinks gin'. Oh well, I never wanted to be on the Honours List, anyway...

'Crapi Capri' was a 1.3 Mk I, bought for me by my husband to save the Tiger from the indignity of wearing 'L' plates, and the danger of being driven around by Death Wish Learner Driver (me). Crapi was in mint condition until the night when, parked up outside a friend's and minding her own business, she was hit by a stolen car, whose occupants immediately fled the scene. The damage was a massive dent just above the rear wheel arch, probably the worst place body-wise for a Capri to be hit, considering that the roof and the rear are all moulded as one piece. Any spare cash we had was being put into the Tiger and keeping my husband's Ordinary Car on the road, and so it was that my fourth Capri was sold on to become yet another restoration project.

The Tiger is the only Capri we have these days, but over the years we must have had dozens of them. A lot of effort goes into keeping these glamour girls on the road by people up and down the country, and to see one ripped to bits breaks my heart every time. If you've got a Capri that's become a burden, then try one of the following links, where someone will be sure to give it a good home, or, if you're in the West Country, mail me and I will be happy to make enquiries for you.

http://www.fordcapri.vispa.co.uk/for_sale.htm

http://www.fordcapri.co.uk/