We thought it beautiful. A maroon, four door hatchback, two litre, 16 valve automatic had entered our lives. What a car and what a motoring revelation. These days a high degree of reliability is not just expected, it is assumed. Compared to the Morris Ital and its ancient engine technology the Primera seemed to be powered by something beyond mere internal combustion. Not until its immobiliser started playing up in 2002 did it once fail to start first time. It felt so futuristic to sit in too, the wonders of injection moulding gave the Primera a snug, textured interior in grey and black plastic, the dash integrating into the doors. We revelled in the warming fuzzy material of the seats which felt so luxurious compared to the Itals cold vinyl. Add to this the electric windows in the front, a tape player that actually worked and a heater that could defrost the car even when buried in a snow drift and we were smitten.
It was the family workhorse that ferried us all over the country for eight years and it did us proud. We never went abroad on holiday as my younger brother had terrible asthma as a child and needed to be within a short drive of an A&E. Mum also had claustrophobia, so planes were out of the question, plus we had sod all cash. So during our teenage years we mainly went camping and this brings me to the most amazing facet of the Primera. I challenge anyone to produce a car that in relation to its external dimensions, has more internal luggage space. It is quite extraordinary what you can fit in a Primera and we had no trouble fitting all kinds of camping equipment into its cavernous boot. If you don't believe me, buy one off eBay and see if you can’t fit everything you own into the back of one, especially with the back seats down. Mums Primera lasted until late 2002. We took H678 FBB back to Wilson's to trade her in for a newer Nissan due to the intermittent immobiliser fault. Mum was most put out when they would only offer £500 for her in part exchange and on asking why so little, they tried as tactfully as possible to suggest that with 196,000 miles on the clock, they considered it a reasonably high mileage vehicle. The visual assessment was equally as damning, revealing at least one dent in every panel, the cost of rectification they said, outweighed the value of the car.
When I met my wife years later, she also drove a Primera. A 1.6 litre manual in black, with Nissan alloy wheels and a big noisy exhaust. It was a Primera with a very different character to my family car and yet my wife and I loved it until the day we blew its head gasket coming off the M61. Being my wife's first car, she felt the need to personalise and 'upgrade' the interior, which of course meant adorning it with animal print seat covers and massive pink fluffy cushions, all of dubious taste. At the time we could only afford to run one car and 'Princess' (that was our black Primera, not my wife) was what we used for the daily commute. I was briefly the shipping manager of a commercial importer in Cheatham Hill, Manchester and I remember with a mixture of embarrassment and pride my first day. Arriving late I had to drive past the warehouse lads, who were outside having a smoke. Princess, with her pink cushions and zany cow print seats were in full view. It’s fair to say they laughed their socks off and as a result I was shown very little respect from them during my time there. I didn’t mind as it was a fabulous car to drive, the stubby gear stick with its short throw produced satisfying gear changes and it handled beautifully. It also accelerated off the line very swiftly, but only nought to thirty. Anything of greater speed took an age, which was perfect for my wife, who loved driving fast but who was a rubbish driver at the time. Princess ended her days banger racing. We found out that she lasted just the one corner, being shunted from behind and on losing control received a terminal crunch into the tire wall.
To the original Nissan Primera then, a quietly British built car introduced in 1990. Despite denting very easily, it was in my opinion, streets ahead of the competition in terms of price, reliability and practicality. Ford took another three years to launch their Mondeo and that was more expensive, far less fun to drive and had far less internal space. Writing this has made me want to get another Primera. Maybe I will. So what is next you may ask? Before I get started on some of the other cars in my life, my next couple of blog posts will be on the nature of the classic car obsession itself and some of the consequences involved in its pursuit.
It was the family workhorse that ferried us all over the country for eight years and it did us proud. We never went abroad on holiday as my younger brother had terrible asthma as a child and needed to be within a short drive of an A&E. Mum also had claustrophobia, so planes were out of the question, plus we had sod all cash. So during our teenage years we mainly went camping and this brings me to the most amazing facet of the Primera. I challenge anyone to produce a car that in relation to its external dimensions, has more internal luggage space. It is quite extraordinary what you can fit in a Primera and we had no trouble fitting all kinds of camping equipment into its cavernous boot. If you don't believe me, buy one off eBay and see if you can’t fit everything you own into the back of one, especially with the back seats down. Mums Primera lasted until late 2002. We took H678 FBB back to Wilson's to trade her in for a newer Nissan due to the intermittent immobiliser fault. Mum was most put out when they would only offer £500 for her in part exchange and on asking why so little, they tried as tactfully as possible to suggest that with 196,000 miles on the clock, they considered it a reasonably high mileage vehicle. The visual assessment was equally as damning, revealing at least one dent in every panel, the cost of rectification they said, outweighed the value of the car.
When I met my wife years later, she also drove a Primera. A 1.6 litre manual in black, with Nissan alloy wheels and a big noisy exhaust. It was a Primera with a very different character to my family car and yet my wife and I loved it until the day we blew its head gasket coming off the M61. Being my wife's first car, she felt the need to personalise and 'upgrade' the interior, which of course meant adorning it with animal print seat covers and massive pink fluffy cushions, all of dubious taste. At the time we could only afford to run one car and 'Princess' (that was our black Primera, not my wife) was what we used for the daily commute. I was briefly the shipping manager of a commercial importer in Cheatham Hill, Manchester and I remember with a mixture of embarrassment and pride my first day. Arriving late I had to drive past the warehouse lads, who were outside having a smoke. Princess, with her pink cushions and zany cow print seats were in full view. It’s fair to say they laughed their socks off and as a result I was shown very little respect from them during my time there. I didn’t mind as it was a fabulous car to drive, the stubby gear stick with its short throw produced satisfying gear changes and it handled beautifully. It also accelerated off the line very swiftly, but only nought to thirty. Anything of greater speed took an age, which was perfect for my wife, who loved driving fast but who was a rubbish driver at the time. Princess ended her days banger racing. We found out that she lasted just the one corner, being shunted from behind and on losing control received a terminal crunch into the tire wall.
To the original Nissan Primera then, a quietly British built car introduced in 1990. Despite denting very easily, it was in my opinion, streets ahead of the competition in terms of price, reliability and practicality. Ford took another three years to launch their Mondeo and that was more expensive, far less fun to drive and had far less internal space. Writing this has made me want to get another Primera. Maybe I will. So what is next you may ask? Before I get started on some of the other cars in my life, my next couple of blog posts will be on the nature of the classic car obsession itself and some of the consequences involved in its pursuit.
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