Convertible dreamtime

I once owned a Saab Convertible. It was an impulse purchase I made in October 2004 after receiving an unexpected bonus cheque. At the time, Garry was shopping for a new car. He’d seen a car dealer advertising a new Saab sedan demonstrator model for sale. While visiting the dealer’s showroom, I noticed a 2001 second-hand convertible for sale in the yard. On a whim, I decided to take it for a test drive.

I’d always wanted a convertible. The 2001 model in the yard was a Saab’s first-generation convertible. An owner who’d bought Saab’s recently launched second-generation model had traded it in. After a test drive and a brief negotiation, I decided to buy it. For the next 12 months, I proudly drove around Sydney in my fancy convertible. It came with heated seats, aircon and powerful heaters that delivered a warm stream of air, perfect for driving with the roof down in winter.

However, there were some aspects of the car that I didn’t enjoy. The first-generation chassis wasn’t as stiff as it could have been. As a result, the car would subtly shimmer if you drove over an uneven surface or hit a pothole. The sensation was a little disconcerting. Saab fixed this issue on its second-generation model.

The car was also built on a standard sedan footprint. This meant that it had a relatively spacious rear seat. Mitchell, Garry’s nephew, recalls Garry and I driving up to Rouse Hill to show his family my new toy. We took him and his brother Adam for a drive to McDonald's – with the roof down, of course! Two decades later, Mitch still remembers sitting in the back seat, driving through the neighbourhood.

However, while the rear seat was spacious, the car had an unusually long body for a two-seat vehicle. I hated parking it. The rear end always seemed much further away than anticipated (and this was before rear reversing cameras were a thing). Hence, it was no surprise when I eventually hit a pillar while pulling into a car space at work one day. Up to that point, I’d come perilously close to hitting parked cars more than once while completing a three-point turn.

Given my love-hate relationship with the car, it was a relatively easy decision to sell it a year later when Garry and I agreed to relocate to London. I ultimately sold the car to a private broker in September 2005 and used the proceeds to fund a sabbatical we enjoyed en route to the United Kingdom.

The broker was a little dodgy. He quoted one price, then after viewing the car, tried to lowball it using some flimsy excuse. I stood my ground, reaffirming that his original price was the only offer on the table. The broker was also operating the business from a spare bedroom at the Horizon apartment tower in Darlinghurst. At the time, this was one of Sydney’s premier high-rise apartment buildings. It’s not exactly the place you’d expect to find a couple of employees in an apartment, sitting at simple desks, buying and selling vehicles.

He offered to write me a cheque, or if I waited, he’d go to the bank and raise a bank cheque. I elected to wait while he went to the bank. As I recall, I lost about $12,000 on the price I’d paid 12 months earlier. However, it was able to reconcile the hefty loss while standing in front of the pyramids in Cairo a few months later. I doubt I’ll ever own a convertible again.