The Mini was launched on an unsuspecting British public in 1959. The brainchild of Sir Alec Issigonis (who also had a hand in designing the classic Morris Minor), it was the first car to have a transversely mounted engine driving the front wheels. On its introduction, it was not known as a 'Mini' - this name was invented by the press, and stuck so much that in the end the manufacturers gave in - but came in two versions, differing only in the badges and the design of the front grille: a Morris Mini-Minor and an Austin Seven (recalling the famous small family car from between the wars).

The first Minis sold for under £500. But then, this was at a time when petrol cost around 3/6 a gallon (3s 6d = 18p in today's money).

I got my first car in 1971, and it was an Austin Seven. At that time, the price of a gallon of petrol had risen to almost 5/- (five shillings = 25p). The tank would only take about 5 1/2 gallons so, even if I let it run practically dry, I would never pay as much as thirty bob (£1.50) to fill it - and that tankful would carry me for 200 miles.

For all its dumpy looks, it was a fun car to drive - there was little need to slow down for corners or roundabouts, for instance: you just needed to get in the right gear, point the wheels where you wanted to go and keep your foot down and it would take you there as if on rails. It was also red, and also it had an Ulster registration. For whatever reason, the Boys in Blue seemed to take more of an interest in it than I would have thought was strictly necessary.

One year I took it to Germany. This was a bit of a culture shock, because the car had a top speed of rather more than 70 mph (well, the engine was only 850 cc) and I had got used to being one of the fastest cars on the motorway - there were not a lot of fast drivers in those days, just a few Jags. But on the Autobahn, no sooner had I pulled out to overtake than I had a BMW driver on my tail, impatient to get his speed back up to 180 kph.

Despite this, my German friends insisted on calling it a 'Mini-Cooper'. This shows the fame that the souped-up Cooper version of the car had gained through its rallying and racing activities, but was not really merited.

By this time, I had made one or two minor modifications. The car had front seat covers to give the effect of bucket seats, for instance, and I had fitted a smaller rally-style steering wheel. And I had used black upholstery paint on the rest of the interior to match the front seats (and to hide the naff red-and-beige colour scheme). Eventually, the front of the car showed signs of rot and was replaced by a complete new front end in fibreglass, which hinged forward, headlamps and all, on a pivot behind the front bumper. One night I pulled up at the top of a motorway slip road to discover I had forgotten to fasten the straps properly. The panic on the face of my hitch-hiker when everything in front went dark still brings back a smile!

Other Minis

Besides its Cooper avatar, a mini-van (and estate car), a mini-Jeep (the Moke) and a beach buggy, the Mini also spawned an offshoot which appeared variously as a Riley Elf and a Wolseley Hornet, very few of which seem to remain in existence. These had Pinin-Farina-style fins at the rear (par for the course in their day, but they did increase the size of the boot) and traditional radiator grilles at the front. I rather took to them - I've always been a sucker for traditional grilles - but the styling exercise was not really a success. Myself, I moved up to an MG 1300 saloon. Well, I said I was a sucker for traditional grilles, but it really marked the stage of 'settling down'.

The success of this front-wheel-drive small car also encouraged emulation by a number of other companies, including Fiat, Renault, VW and Ford. I was lucky enough to drive one of the early versions of the Renault 5, and enjoyed it almost as much as my old Mini. Being one of the early cars, it had one of those push-pull gearsticks which came out of the dashboard like an umbrella handle - the only authentic shape for a French gearstick. And it rolled impressively during cornering, which is something the French appear to like, but it made driving seem rather more perilous than perhaps it was. All in all, quite an enjoyable car.

I was also allowed to drive an early VW Polo on a number of occasions. This was every bit as sure-footed as my Mini, but saw it as its business to get you from A to B safely and with a minimum of fuss. (What? A German car, boring? Maybe.) Much the same goes for the Metro I briefly owned in later life: a willing car, but not terribly exciting.

Incidentally, Metros appear to be as easy to break into as Minis (which are famed for it). At all events, although my Mini was never stolen (too old, I expect), my Metro disappeared from the drive by my house at night on a couple of occasions, to be discovered by the police some streets away. Not to be caught out a third time, I bought a thiefproofing device after that.

And now the rights to the Mini badge have been bought by BMW, who have produced what they call a 'Mini'. I’d love to tell you what I think of it, but h2g2 has House Rules. But if you visit The Name Game you should get an inkling of the star ratings I would give it!