Growing old gracefully
IT’S A quarter of a century since I first drove the X100 generation of XK when, as an aspiring motoring journalist, I was asked by a leading British car magazine to help with a twin test in Italy between the newly launched Maserati 3200GT and XKR (pictured). After flying to Rome and collecting a British Racing Green Jaguar, I had a fabulous 250-mile drive north to Maserati’s home of Modena where the shoot took place. With my car at the time being an asthmatic Peugeot 205 diesel, the car’s huge performance and luxurious interior was a revelation.
But as a fresh-faced 25-year-old, the car clearly wasn’t mine and anyone who saw me probably thought it belonged to my father. Or I’d stolen it. Or both.
Due to their high price and traditional image, XKs were never aimed at youngsters. They were for those that could now afford the finer things in life, the sort who knew their Beaujolais from a Burgundy and no longer wore trainers. What they weren’t for were idiots who, despite being in the country of pasta, ate two McDonalds in one day since he was too afraid to sit in an Italian restaurant alone…
Even when I bought my own XK8 4.0 in 2016 aged 43, I was still arguably too young for the car but was swayed by its looks, sub-£5k value and 155mph performance. I ignored the jibes from ‘friends’ about wearing driving gloves and listening to Radio 4 since I already did.
THE CAR CLEARLY WASN’T MINE AND ANYONE WHO SAW ME PROBABLY THOUGHT IT BELONGED TO MY FATHER. OR I’D STOLEN IT. OR BOTH.
But as I write this in early February I’m three months from turning 50, meaning there’s no longer any doubt the XK8 belongs to my father. Besides, at 81 he can no longer bend low enough to climb in
