LANDROVER DEFENDER - THE UNWRITTEN RULE

There is an unwritten rule of the countryside that you will not know unless you drive a Landover of a certain age and style. That is when you pass another Landover on the open road, you must wave. 

We are not talking a curtain call in a West End musical wave here. The Landrover sign of mutual respect is far more understated. In Norfolk it may be nothing more than a single, arthritic digit raised as if sending an hapless batsman back to the pavilion.

It doesn't happen in any other vehicle. Pick up truck drivers don't wave at complete strangers. They are more than likely thinking seriously about the job of work they are on their way to and so are less predisposed to wave. 

On the other hand, drivers of 90 and 110 Landrovers of any vintage have a default position of cheerfulness. You have to, as it is less about driving and more about guiding a collection of bolts moving in close formation.

To put up with an ageing Landrover's many faults requires a cheerful stoicism. Who else would suffer being that stiff, and that deaf after a 25 mile journey? If you are anywhere near 6 foot then you will almost certainly have your lumbar vertebrae screaming at you by the end of a journey, and have to open the window to alleviate the cramp in your right arm. 

Too hot in the summer, too cold in the winter and yet for some reason an old Defender puts a smile on the face of anyone who drives one. It is the anti-hero of 20th century automotive manufacture. An accidental design classic with a loyalty that borders on fanaticism.

My only real complaint is I have to give the one I am borrowing back to its owner. It's been an awful, and at the same time wonderful experience to drive one again.