It is ironic that the first time I see petrol hit $2 a litre it is as I drive my new van toward the ferry terminal. The van, of course, should be electric, or powered by the captured methane of soft hooved cattle. It should not be a 1998 Toyota Townace that I flew from Hobart to Sydney to purchase. This is what comes of having driven two classic cars for the majority of my adult existence. You drive a classic car because you love it and are willing to mingle with esoteric groups of older men who can access a replacement for the part of your car that has just broken.
