► We browse the eBay classifieds…
► …and buy four £1500 cars
► Can they manage a coast-to-coast road trip?
We all have our hobbies. Some play golf, others like to garden, some grown men make 16th century galleons out of matchsticks.
My hobby is window-shopping for crappy cars on eBay. I don’t know why, I just like to idle away the hours looking for all manner of garbage I’ll never actually buy. I suppose the entertainment comes from seeing what’s out there, feeding my car-nerd imagination. What would it be like to buy a 1995 Mercedes C-Class for £1250? (I don’t need one.) Wouldn’t it be fun to own an old Fiat Panda? (I’d never drive it.) And would a 170,000-mile Alfa 159 be reliable? (I’d never risk it.)
Ah yes, the crunch issue: reliability. Would that tatty P38 Range Rover with stratospheric mileage and cracked leather seats be reliable? Would the blinking warning lights ruin the experience? Or would the delicious smugness of driving a cheap car bring more pleasure than pain?
Well, CAR decided to find out. What if four of us bought rock-bottom cars from eBay – what would we actually buy, if it wasn’t hypothetical but real cash? And after buying our cut-price wheels, who would regret it first on a road trip? Yes, a competition but not a race – not against each other at least. It’s more like we’re pitting ourselves against the gods of malfunction, the gremlins of mechanical failure. A kind of Carrera Catastrophicana – a coast-to-coast Cannonballs-Up.
But first, what am I going to buy?
We have a couple of rules for this game: the budget is £1500; the cars have to have an MoT; and they have to be bought as ‘Buy It Now’, not through an auction. Straight away, my plans to buy something older are dashed. Anything with the word ‘classic’ in the description is well out of my league – even a tatty 1990 Ford Escort Ghia 1.4 is on eBay for £2895. Dross, but classic dross, apparently.
So I veer towards the executive end of the old-nail market, hoping maybe I can get something plush but unloved. There are lots of Jaguar S- and X-Types for under £2k, but I go bigger and start looking at bottom-of-the-barrel Jag XJs – late 1990s, silky straight-six, high miles and high danger. Mmmm, I like that. But then – oooh, what’s this? A tidy Volvo 740 estate for £1650, maybe they’ll accept an offer?
I’ve never owned a Volvo before, never wanted to either, but suddenly the idea of this old-school Scandi-wagon – blocky like Minecraft, built for a hard winter – seems exactly the car I need. And when I find the 740 is already sold, the Volvo idea is lodged in my head. So I end up pressing ‘Buy It Now’ on a 2002 Volvo V70 estate, a 2.4 manual with 143,000 miles on the clock. It’s more modern than I’d planned but it’s £1495. I’m thrilled. The game is on.
Two weeks later, it’s 11pm and I’m cruising across Norfolk in the dark. We’ve decided our road trip will start at dawn on the east coast, then we’ll follow the sun across Britain’s belly to see it set on the west coast of Wales. I’m heading for a short night in the Premier Inn, Great Yarmouth, ready for an early start, and I’ve already fallen head over heels for this old Volvo. Yes, the stitching in the seats has gone and yes, there are so many Magic Trees in here it smells worse than a Lush factory; but my god, the engineering! The 2.4-litre five-cylinder feels muscular and smooth, with a surprisingly exotic five-cylinder warble, and on its fat tyres and cushioned suspension it’s like I’m on a lilo, floating down a river of warm caramel. The interior is dimly lit with an old-fashioned, low-wattage glow and the driver’s armchair feels comfortable enough to take me to the Arctic Circle. It feels so functional, so characterful, so Swedish. By the time I check in, I’ve already decided, I’M KEEPING THIS VOLVO FOREVER.
Next morning we meet at the beach in the pre-dawn light and I find out what else you can buy on eBay for £1500. Straight away, I’m drawn to Colin Overland’s Ford Puma, a remarkable, one-owner car with just 36,000 miles on the clock, bought for £1395. ‘It’s been owned by a woman in St Helens who appears to have barely driven it,’ says Colin. A vanguard of Ford’s New Edge design of the 1990s, this 2001 example still looks pert and modern 25 years later, and the condition seems amazing. Well, it is if you ignore the rusting arches, a common issue in Pumas. Just close your eyes, step inside and then… open them, to be transported back to 2001. No touchscreens, no cupholders, but still in mint condition.
Next to it is James Dennison’s MG TF, which perhaps hasn’t aged so well. Launched in 1995 as the MGF, the re-engineered TF came in 2002. This example is from 2003, not long before MG Rover swerved off the road and crashed in a ditch. With a legendary 1.6 K-series engine mounted in the middle and just 65,000 miles on the clock, I should be excited… but I can’t help feeling this MG is like a retirement-age gift to yourself. It cost James just £1150 – a sign of how unloved these cars are these days – but Dennison justifies it with passion: ‘Where else can you buy a British, mid-engined sports car, at any price?’ he argues, and we all shrug. ‘And in so many modern cars,’ he adds, ‘you just put your foot down and accelerate to 100mph and barely notice! In this, you can floor it for a good 20 seconds… and you’re still only doing 70mph!’
We all shrug again. I think he meant it as a compliment.
The sun is now up and it’s time to get going. Rather than return to my Volvo I jump at the chance of driving our fourth car, a 2008 Mini Cooper, bought by Piers Ward for £1400.
It’s funny, the BMW Mini is one of those ubiquitous cars you see so often, you almost stop noticing them. But now, really looking at it, it’s an incredibly compact, minimalist design, with the wheels pushed right out to the corners – and this is a Mk2, 6cm longer than the original 2001 rebirth.
Piers tells me there are loads out there for this kind of money, and it was chosen for sentimental as well as practical reasons: ‘I reckoned it was new enough to be reliable,’ Piers tells me as he hands over the key. ‘But also, I’ve kind of grown up with this era of Mini and I know they’re great fun.’
So I slot the Mini’s strange UFO-shaped disc-key-thing into its slot, start the 1.6-litre engine and we’re off. The first thing that strikes me is how this 115,000-mile car still feels so tight. The gearbox (the only six-speed in this group) feels clenched, the steering is vividly pointy and direct and while the engine isn’t hugely powerful, it’s still exciting when you cane it to 6500rpm. Which I do. A lot. Because it’s not my car.
The interior has survived well too. There’s a dreadful Jelly Belly air freshener and the air-conditioning has packed up, so the ambience is like being trapped inside a strawberry-flavoured sock, but all the fabrics and half-leather seats look clean and firm.
The onboard entertainment does betrays its age though – forget CarPlay, it’s strictly tape and CD players on this trip. So, bored with listening to local radio, I decide to make a pitstop in Kings Lynn and from a limited selection in a charity shop, I buy Keane and Dido CDs for some authentic mid-2000s pop and – for the Volvo tape player – An Hour Of The Shadows and 20 Christmas Hits. Not my first choice… but 50p each.
Halfway across the Fens, Dennison decides he wants to take the hardtop off his MG. We stop and unclip it to reveal an incredibly clean, folded soft-top beneath. Dennison looks very happy now – every car is thrilling when the roof is down, even an MG TF.
It’s time for me to have a go in the Puma. ‘It’s like a new car,’ they tell me, but as soon as I get in I discover the charging socket doesn’t work. Secondhand cars eh?
But on the move, the Puma really does feel like it rolled out the factory last week. The gearbox – famously short-throw and notchy – feels like it belongs in Caterham Seven and the steering feels so alive and communicative compared to modern cars. And the engine, a lusty 1.6, shames the Mini with the way it pulls hard from low revs. Altogether, I reckon Ford could relaunch this little coupe again next week, brand new, and it would probably win group tests. If they included some USB sockets. And some rust inhibitor.
We stop for lunch and mull over our choices. Overall, they all seem to be doing well, though Colin, fresh from my Volvo, reports a red engine light has come on and the temperature gauge keeps shooting up to volcanic levels. This is a concern – but given that he’s here in the Starbucks, telling me, it’s clear he paid no attention to the warnings.
Things get worse when we refuel and petrol spills out from under the Volvo, all over the forecourt. There must be a hole in the filler neck somewhere. Suddenly I’m not so sure I want to keep this car… Maybe I’ll buy a Puma instead! God, what’s wrong with me? This eBay thing is an addiction.
But Colin is complimentary about the Volvo, as he hands back the keys. ‘I feel completely at home in it,’ he says. ‘It’s no fun to drive but it’s just good to be in. And I like that it’s not posh but it is nice… but then, not so nice you’d feel the need to wash it.’
Or pay attention to warning lights, clearly.
After the self-consciously styled Mini and Puma interiors, getting back in the Volvo is like taking a design paracetamol, it’s so calm and grown-up in here. Inside and out, the V70 is a tribute to the late, great Peter Horbury, Volvo’s design director through the 1990s. I love all the little switches and knobs on the dashboard, feeling their micro-clicks, like tweaking a high-end hi-fi system. Shame I’m almost passing out with the petrol fumes.
By now we’re on the border of Wales, though, and as the road starts to twist and turn over the Berwyn Mountains, the Volvo’s real weakness shows up. Pick up the pace and it handles like a cross-channel ferry, the nose is so heavy and the steering so numb. Plus, I’m sick to death of listening to the Jackson 5 singing Santa Claus is Coming To Town. It’s time to try the MG.
Straight away, there’s a lot to hate about the TF. Climbing in, it’s strangely cramped around the knees and it feels like you’re holding the steering wheel in your lap. The interior is ghastly too, with blue inserts and aftermarket heating knobs. Even the stalks are horribly designed – late 1990s Rover Group tat in its dying days. On the move, roof down, it’s raucous and noisy and the ride is busy and firm. Worst of all, the engine – that famous K-series, lauded in its day!! – feels rough and flat. Am I missing something?
But then, as we get deeper into Wales, another side of the MG emerges. Go a little bit quicker and you can actually feel that mid-engined agility start to shine through – the way it turns, the way the steering loads up with authentic weight (unlike electrically steered modern cars). And the K-series, so uninspiring at low revs, screams with a surprising ferocity when you thrash it mercilessly to the 6750 redline. Which I do. A lot. Because it’s not my car. It’s hard to argue with Dennison’s reasoning: what other mid-engined sportscar could you buy for £1150?
Soon we’re on the west coast and we pull onto Black Rock Sands near Criccieth. We were lucky to have a beautiful clear morning and now, as the sun glows orange, we’re on for a beautiful sunset too.
As we eat fish and chips off the back of the MG, we’re all impressed (and a little surprised) by our four cars. Yes, we’ve only done a single journey and it’s very early days, but all four cars seem remarkably solid given their mileage and their budget price.
‘It’s encouraging to think such good cars can be got for such modest money,’ say Colin. ‘I actually brought a tow rope – not as a comedy prop, I thought we’d need it.’
So they’ve all survived, but there’s only one clear winner. It’s not the Volvo – everyone loves being in it, but with petrol spills and warning lights, no one wants to drive it a moment longer. It’s not the Mini, sensible though that is. ‘The Mini is the one that would fit into your life,’ says James, summing up its appeal. ‘Visibility is amazing, the engine is good, it has enough space – you can see why they’re so popular.’
It’s not the divisive MG either. ‘It’s more raucous than I remember,’ says Colin, appreciatively, but Piers finds it disappointing: ‘It just doesn’t excite me enough.’
Ah but then there’s the Puma. What an amazing little car for under £1500, ‘The gearchange is lovely, it handles well – it’s just what a lightweight sports cars should be,’ says James. ‘Yeah, I’d probably have the Puma,’ agrees Piers.
And yet… lovely it may be, but when we look underneath, that surface rust around the arches has spread much deeper into the car, and it looks as though this lovely, low-mileage Puma may have one more MoT left it in before the scrap heap. Which is sad, but it kind of sums these cars up. You can fall in love with their character and their value for money, but don’t get too attached – at this price, any relationship is bound to be temporary.
‘It’s a win for the general idea that you don’t have to spend £80k on an electric car,’ says Colin, putting a positive spin on it. ‘Spend £1500 on one of these and replace it in a year’s time – you’d still be quids in by the day you die.’
That evening I drive home in the Volvo, loving its relaxed vibe. It’s a wonderful car – it’s not a classic, but it’s full of old-school, analogue charm, and it’s cheap. Then I fill it up and petrol spills all over the forecourt again. Hmm. Maybe I’ll just run it for a while then sell it and buy something else.
See what I mean? The entertainment comes from seeing what’s out there.
2002 Volvo V70 2.4
- Price new: £25,705
- Powertrain: 2435cc 20v five-cylinder, five-speed manual, front-wheel drive
- Performance: 138bhp @ 5100rpm, 162lb ft @ 3750rpm, 10.5sec 0-62mph, 127mph
- Weight: 1537kg
- Efficiency: 31mpg (official), 29.8 (tested), 217g/km CO2
- Value now: £1000-£6000
2008 Mini Cooper 1.6
- Price new: £14,900
- Powertrain: 1598cc 16v four-cylinder, six-speed manual, front-wheel drive
- Performance: 118bhp @ 6000rpm, 118lb ft @ 4250rpm, 9.1sec 0-62mph, 126mph
- Weight: 1062kg
- Efficiency: 52mpg (official), 40.4mpg (tested), 129g/km CO2
- Value now: £1500-£7000
2001 Ford Puma 1.6
- Price new: £12,140
- Powertrain: 1596cc 16v four-cylinder, five-speed manual, front-wheel drive
- Performance: 102bhp @ 6000rpm, 106lb ft @ 4000rpm, 10.4sec 0-62mph, 118mph
- Weight: 1035kg
- Efficiency: 39mpg (official), 39.9mpg (tested); n/a g/km CO2
- Value now: £750-£7000
2003 MG TF
- Price new: £15,850
- Powertrain: 1588cc 16v four-cylinder, five-speed manual, rear-wheel drive Performance 113bhp @ 6250rpm, 106lb ft @ 4700rpm, 9.8sec 0-62mph, 118mph
- Weight: 1095kg
- Efficiency: 40mpg (tested), 38.2 (official); n/a g/km CO2
- Value now: £750-£10,000