Want a Cheap, Fun Classic? Go Small, ’90s, and Basic

I have written on these fine pages many times about how cars of the 1990s are perhaps the only cars you’ll ever need, and how, perhaps more than that, the ultimate transport solution would be a 1995 Renault Clio. I never really expect any of you to listen to my ramblings on such things, of course. Allegedly, I’m here to entertain you, so any useful consumer advice that happens to come from these columns is purely coincidental, I can assure you.

That said, recently, in a very rare moment where I actually acted upon the directions of my own ‘wisdom’, the outcome happened to be rather good. And it seems to be getting better each day. So, what was it that I’ve found to solve the world’s transport and ecology crises, I sense you pondering? The shapely form of the 1995 Ford Fiesta LX five-door, of course. Seemingly, the Blue Oval’s greatest contribution to mass transit and dare I opine, tongue firmly in cheek, one of its finest ‘People’s car’ moments. 

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As is often the case, this purple pearl came to my attention at Manor Park Classics (MPC), in Cheshire. Clearly inspired by the success of the FOTU scene, MPC’s consignment team continually look to bring a few low-mileage, low-cost but high-quality classics to glide across the block. After all, today’s FOTU owner is potentially tomorrow’s Ferrari collector. Or at least tomorrow’s serial Fiesta enthusiast. Classic cars have a way of drawing you in like that.

With only a few days to go before the Festival itself, there sat the Fezzer, in its almost perfect paint, pristine interior, and with only 27,000 miles on the clock. Two recent front Uniroyals and a bulging service folder told me everything else I needed to know. This was a car that had enjoyed a very easy paper round. Despite the clear quality of the car, bidding only made it up to a mere £650, plus fees . . . a figure for which I couldn’t get my bank card out fast enough. 

The drive home from the auction was blissful. Despite being motorway miles the whole way back, the Fiesta proved to be quite the autobahn cruiser. Although I’ve just managed to miss out on the incredible Yamaha-engineered 1.25 motor on this one, it being the archaic, but superb, Endura 1.3 instead, it still sang along lustily, sipping fuel and generally keeping up happily with traffic. A big tick so far.

Showgoers to FOTU seemed equally impressed. There aren’t many events where the sight of an original Mk 4, five-door Fiesta will draw such low whistles and breathy gasps, but I know my people and I may as well have bowled through Pebble Beach in an unrestored Type 35, judging by the nods and thumbs up I got. To be honest, and I appreciate that we’re starting from a very low baseline here, I’m fairly sure that the funky Fiesta, with its uniquely ‘90s seat fabric, took my standing as Hagerty ambassador up several notches over that weekend.

Next came an MoT and service. My good friend Tony, big chief at Sandicliffe, our local Ford emporium, explained that many Ford dealers offer discounted terms for older cars, to keep them in the network. With a little friends and family discount on top, I managed to get the thing serviced, with new plugs and filters, plus MoT tested and equipped with a brand-new battery for a whisker over £400. Or the price of a (front) tyre for any nice performance car you care to mention. This may sound incredible, but look at what accoutrements this car has, or rather hasn’t: manual windows, mirrors and roof; one ECU; no power steering; about three buttons on the entire dash; and a radio that makes Fisher-Price feel sophisticated. What is there to go wrong? 

Now that it’s running in the very rudest of health, I’ll be honest, I’ve been using the Fiesta precisely as it was intended – as a daily driver. Despite having acres of legroom for my ample 6′ 4″ frame, you forget how petite and perfectly formed older cars are, meaning that there is no parking space known to man that I cannot fit within. Anyone who ever owned one of these Mk 4s will also know that they are blessed with a simply fabulous chassis, and despite the saucer-sized wheels and positively ancient Pirellis on the rear, this thing REALLY handles. On lanes that I know well, and well within the legal speed limit, your honour, I have been giving this car a decent thraping to really prove the point that, as all flinty-eyed tillermen (and women) know, the single greatest thrill in motoring is to drive a slow car quickly. Four wheel drifts at 50mph? I’ll have some of that, thank you very much.

The best bit about the Fiesta purchase though, is its timing. It has arrived in the Cowland household just as my eldest daughter, Amber, is learning to drive. A few calls netted learner insurance to the end of the year for a mere £200, a set of L plates cost mere buttons, and before you know it, we’ve got not only an epic, cut-price and fun way of teaching her those essential motoring skills, but also a great way of us spending some quality time together. Which father doesn’t want to bond with his offspring over the sweet tones of that ancient engine? Safe to say, she’s falling in love with it, as we all do with our first automotive ‘conquest’ – and it appears that the diligent and conscientious owners who clearly loved it previously have left plenty of clutch lining for her to get through. Good job, really.

I must get asked every week, on social media, in interviews, or at shows, whether the classic car market has legs. Whether we can attract the next generation. If there are cars they can genuinely afford to buy and run, and to be a part of a scene with. My short time with this fabulous little car has showed me that there really is. And in a car you can fix with a bent paperclip and that will doubtless motor along for as long as the bodywork can hold out.

So charge up your bank cards, save up a little cash, and go and get a slightly dubiously facelifted, five-door ’90s hatchback. For the price of around two back-row Oasis tickets, it’s a much better way to re-live a brilliant decade, and you won’t have to wait in a queue for five hours to get one.