My ma’s first car was the 1964 Opel Kadett Sports Coupe; colour taupe. She learnt to drive in the vehicle once she put her feet on the floor and finally the pedals; she was a nervous learner. Its name was Marmaduke.

When the novelty of driving wore off she needed something fast and something flash. The 1970 Alfa Romeo Giulia arrived; red of course. I hated it. Not because my mom still maintained her good looks into her 30’s and every moron that pulled up at the traffic lights wanted to see what she had under her bonnet (so to speak) while I cringed in the back seat to the roar of duelling engines. I hated it because the slightest hint of moisture would kill the engine leaving us stranded; something about wet points and plugs the experts used to say but who the hell really knew. The family drive times were strategically planned around the afternoon summer downpours.

Hard times befell my ma and the Alfa was traded in for a 1972 VW Beetle; off white, I was so happy. After a while, we learnt the Beetle had a mind of its own; no water needed to shut this demonic hunk of junk down it just switched off after driving too long. How long is a piece of string I often wondered? The roadside strandings became increasingly explosive. We joined the Automobile Association.

My ma eventually got back on her feet and purchased the 1980 Ford Escort RS; ice white. The morons were back at the traffic lights with overheated engines in pursuit of my ma who was now well into her 40’s and still had her smile. Her driving skills were sharpened too and they had an arduous time when the lights turned green. Once again I watched from behind, not in the back seat but from my own car, the hand-me-down Beetle. When I finally caught up, the lights would instantly turn green again. I have fond memories of burnt rubber, exhaust fumes and exclusion.

The Ford Escort RS would be my ma’s last car, it died a slow death of rust after the move to the coast and one Sunday afternoon a stranger knocked on my ma’s door and offered her R3500.

This is probably my ma’s last drive. It’s a 2016 trike; deep red and a bit slower but has onboard scissors and panic button. The intersections are quieter too.