Whereas most people are eager to learn to drive as soon as they’re of the age to do so, I was keen to avoid having to get behind the wheel, and for the first decade of my adult life, arranged things around being able to walk where I needed to go, or else to take public transport. When my first proper employers subsidised a course of driving lessons for me, I dutifully took them, but wasn’t sorry when I failed the test that followed.

Things changed when I met my wife. She tolerated train-travel, but disdained buses. Meanwhile she liked to drive, and was happy enough for the most part to do the driving for us both. For another decade or so this worked out tolerably well, until a change of location and a change of circumstances obliged me to knuckle down and start taking lessons again. It did not come naturally to me, and I failed test after test. Only after months of struggle, and at the sixth or seventh attempt, did I belatedly pass.

A key, with the prong folded away, for a 2016 Citroën C1.

This serves to explain why, although I’ve owned seven cars in my time, I’ve only driven five of them. Car no. 7 is a 2016 Citroën C1 in plain white, the latest in a line of small, low-powered and (relatively) cheap vehicles. Its key is shown above, with the prong folded away. I’ve had this one for less than a year. I like it quite well, though wish it had a CD-player rather than the bluetooth music-playing contraption it came with. At least it does have a radio.