I had lost my original teammate long before the start of the rally. Having spent the past few weeks trying – and failing – to persuade anyone to join the Mangomatics’ African adventure, I was starting to face up to the fact that I may end up on the start line without a co-driver. As things stood, I was also very likely to find myself on the start line without a car. London to Cameroon is a very very long walk and I would probably miss the beach party. The time had definitely come to find some hot wheels.
The basic requirements are straight forward enough:
- it has to be road legal,
- under 1000 cc to make it more “fun”,
- left-hand drive to abide by the regulations in Cameroon
- and cheap enough to happily give it away at the finish line for charity.
The ability for any chosen vehicle to reliably cross 10,000 miles fully laden with gear through heat, desert, jungle and probably the odd pot hole seems to be a bonus rather than an essential requirement. I am also reliably informed that we wouldn’t be driving through the rainy season, so the ability to float or swim will not be a prerequisite.
Politely ignoring all suggestions that I should use my old landy because it’s engine size was way over the limit - not mentioning that it doesn’t go over 50mph, overheats on long journeys and is as comfortable as riding a bad-tempered camel on a rollercoaster – I set my heart on the next best thing: a Fiat Panda 4X4 (old style). This IS the ideal car! People rave about its ruggedness and the YouTube videos of it in action provide clear reassurance that it could take anything you through at it.
Target acquisition decided, I jumped on a plane in late July for a quick weekend Panda hunting mission to my old stomping grounds in Rome. How difficult could it be to find an old Panda 4×4 in the land of the Panda, Italy? After nipping down to the local shops for a fresh Friday copy of PortaPortese, I started to scan the auto pages for my chosen prey. I have obviously been away a very long time; it turns out that it is actually a little more difficult than I had allowed for in my two-day visit.
There were a handful of old Panda 4×4 available if I was willing to part with an arm and a leg. I decided very quickly that these served very useful purposes where they were, including helping me to drive whatever car I would eventually end up with. Some quick consultations with the cousin of a relative of a friend of a friend who had worked at Fiat confirmed that my ideal car is also quite highly prized by off-road enthusiasts and farmers. I was unlikely to find a cheap one quickly, and certainly not in two days… and how stupid was I really for wanting one or driving to Cameroon. It turned out that even my second choice of an old Fiat 500 (which they couldn’t give away when I was last there) is now worth more that its weight in gold. With time running out on my brief and so far fruitless expedition, I was faced with a stark choice. Come back another day at extra expense and allow more time, probably enlisting an army of locals to track down the perfect buy, or just buy something. Anything.
I opted for the latter. One little baby jumped out at me. It was a Fiat Panda, so there was some consolation that I hadn’t entirely failed on my original plan. It was old (94), relatively cheap and had recently passed its Italian roadworthiness test. It fitted the bill perfectly. That evening I made my first – and to date only – acquaintance with my trusty steed at Piazzale dei Caduti Della Montagniola. It certainly was a sight, framed in an interesting if rather faded colour described in the advert as “penicillin green”. This car had lived a very full and active life, with a lot of rough and tumble along the way. Inside, there was a distinct absence of the equipment and buttons we have become accustomed to in modern cars. The only item of electronics that should have been there, the radio, had been stolen. A quick drive around the block revealed that, apart from a slightly crunchy gearbox and failing exhaust, the Panda could move.
With an amicable handshake and a promise to replace the exhaust, we agreed to complete the transaction the following week. As I had to fly back to the UK the very next day, I left the purchase to my Papa, who luckily for me lives near Rome.
That was last weekend. This afternoon I received this very welcome email: ” With Joseph’s assistance I now have 1 sickly green panda in my driveway. Ciao! “ With that simple message, the Mangomatics Africa Run is a giant leap closer to the start line.
The next challenge is to get the Panda to the UK…
