Sometimes a crap financial decision is worth it.
Sometimes a crap financial decision is worth it.
It was 2018 and Lynda wanted an old VW campervan.
When I went to collect it, every sensible instinct told me to walk away.
I drove home in “Winnie”.
Not long afterwards, I took Benjy, our newly adopted scruffy terrier, to Ballycastle for fish and chips.
Winnie’s sliding door came off its runner and landed on my foot. I dropped my fish and chips. Benjy escaped.
That really set the tone.
I took Winnie to countless cycling time trials. On one occasion, while I was getting changed in the back, a complete stranger climbed in, sat down and started chatting to me while I was only halfway into my skinsuit.
Friends, Benjy and I took her on overnight camping trips.
Tobin and I had our first night away together in her at Murlough Bay.
I celebrated my 40th in Connemara with Winnie.
Then, against all sane advice, we drove Winnie to France.
Her engine seized on the first day.
To cut a long and painful story short, we returned to collect her in northern France two weeks later. Her battery died on the ferry, so we had to unpack the entire van on deck to get her jump-started.
Within half an hour, the exhaust developed a leak and we spent the next few hours damaging our hearing.
By February 2020, our driveway resembled an oil slick. Winnie went to Quiery Motors for a new gearbox.
Then lockdown happened.
Months became years and Winnie still wasn’t fixed. I could see her sitting in the mechanic’s yard from my office window.
We discovered that local teenagers were using her as a weekend drinking den.
She had to go. Someone bought her for parts.
I still haven’t received the V5 confirming that I’m no longer responsible for her, so perhaps the story isn’t quite over yet.
Financially, Winnie was an absolutely terrible decision.
I still think about that night at Murlough Bay.
Sometimes the return on an investment isn’t measured in money.
