Not that long ago, there were at least eleventy twelve different e-petitions calling for a re-introduction of a rolling ‘free’ road tax for classic cars. I didn’t sign. I actually don’t mind paying a bit of road tax – or Vehicle Excise Duty to give it its proper name – because I do like the freedom to drive my car where I want. Fair enough.

The same to tax as a diesel BX. Not fair!

Only it isn’t really. Successive governments, but primarily Labour, have really ballsed up the tax system. In trying to incentivise sales of environmentally sound cars, road tax has become trifling on new cars. Some are entirely free, others a mere £35 or so. Yet my pre-2001 cars are left with comparitively huge annual tax bills – £145 for the 2CV and Sirion, £230 for the BX. I feel I’m being unfairly punished here. After all, by running older vehicles, I’m saving the manufacture of a new one. It isn’t like they’re thirsty, fossil-fuel munching monsters either. They all deliver 45mpg or more. The Sirion even has a catalytic converter. Tax rates for my older cars don’t account for size. It’s a flat rate bar the 1549cc cut-off that separates Sirion/2CV and BX. I could buy a 6.75-litre Rolls-Royce and it would cost the same to tax as the BX.

It’s surely about time for a change. Why not reduce the VED for pre-2001 vehicles? There can’t be that many in regular use as people blindly follow the fashion for buying new. I’m not asking for free tax, just something that doesn’t punish those of us who can’t afford or who really don’t want to buy new.

This is especially topical at the moment as I’m currently faced with not being able to tax the Sirion. It expires at the end of May, but it seems I don’t currently have the funds to pay for it. Getting the 2CV more solid has been the priority, and it has eaten up my meagre funds. Had I a car officially classed as low emission, I’d face a much smaller bill. Even a Sirion 1.0 registered after March 2001 has a tax bill of £110. £35 less, just because of when it was registered. It’s still the same car!

It does upset me greatly. VED has become a hugely unfair system, punishing the wrong people. Not that I’ll be setting up an e-petition about it. For all the use those things are, I might as well present my case via the medium of contemporary dance. (I won’t be though, sorry to disappoint).

Last year’s test drive of a Nissan Leaf has properly got under my skin. I was amazed at how good the car was, and how it confirmed that electric power makes so much sense, so much of the time. Sure, if you’re clocking up tens of thousands of miles per year, then electric isn’t the answer yet. But most people I know don’t often travel more than 80 miles a day by car, and then electric really makes sense.

I still like the Leaf

For instance, I do a lot of trips to the next village. It’s about five miles away. By the time I’ve got there, I bet the engine oil isn’t even up to temperature – especially as a lot of the journey there is downhill. Even trips to town are only 25 miles in total there and back. Easily within the scope of an electric car.

Now, much as I like them, I can’t afford to buy a Leaf. Not even the £10k one I spied on Ebay recently. They’re not cheap. So, what other options are there? The Volkswagen e-UP! is a car with many grammatical annoyances, but seems a good car. They’re still £20,000 new though, even with the government’s helpful £5000 plug-in grant.

Electric cars can be cheaper though. What about the wacky Renault Twizy? The problem is, the Twizy is utterly stupid. Yes, I found a one-year old one for a mere £5000 on Ebay, but it didn’t have any doors. Why on earth did Renault design a car with no doors?! Even if you do raid the options list for such fancy features, they don’t have windows, so don’t offer that much protection from the elements. In short, it’s a motorbike with none of the performance, manoeuvrability or style. And the idea of French electrics is pretty terrifying too.

Renault Twizy. Pointless. http://tinyurl.com/twizych

Ok then. So buying a new/nearly-new electric car clearly isn’t an option. The second-hand market isn’t too promising either, as mainstream manufacturers haven’t really taken the concept too seriously until very recently. Hybrids are a possibility. In theory, this are the best of both worlds. An electric motor for pottering around town, with a petrol engine for longer trips – and both units working together when you really want to get a shift on. I’ll admit, I’m intrigued about these and would dearly like to try one. Not sure I’d want to buy one just yet though, and the cheapest are still only just sub-£2000 for a 2000-build example.

Mind you, that’s still cheaper than my next option, which is to convert the 2CV. The little Citroen makes an ideal base for an electric car, as they’re so simple in the first place. There’s no cooling system, power assists or complicated drivetrain. You really can just remove the engine and bolt an electric motor in place. Job done.

Naturally, there are batteries and controllers to consider and so far I’m struggling to find a complete package of bits that comes in much less than £10,000. I have found many different electric 2CVs around the world as part of my research though, including this excitingly brisk one in Australia.

It really has got me thinking. I know it may seem like sacrilege for a petrolhead to like electric vehicles, but the truth is, most four-cylinder petrol engines are about as exciting to listen to as an electric motor. The Leaf proved that you can still have a car that’s entertaining to drive with electric power. A car is a car after all. Diesels don’t sound good, yet people are happy enough to buy them. In fact, the idea of an electric BX is rather appealing! It’d be a lot quieter than the clattering XUD diesel.

I will keep exploring this area though. Diesels are being squeezed to the point that they’re struggling to remain reliable these days – a far cry from the sheer, wondrous simplicity of the BX’s powerplant. Getting petrol engines to be cleaner is likely to take them down the same road. Burning oil is increasingly not as much fun. Perhaps electric power really can take over. Once we get around the small problem of generating electricity that is…

I hate surveys. People unlucky enough to own a television are never far away from a show all about ‘the funniest TV moments ever’ or ‘the best people we love most who wear jumpers and were once on a tv show, slightly’ or something. A great opportunity to wheel out folk you wished were a part of history to make some ‘hilarious’ comments on how good these people they’ve never met are. Ugh.

Best British car of all time my arse. It’s broken!

Sadly, the car world falls for this scam from time to time. Autocar, for instance, has just released the results of a survey to find ‘The best ever British car.’ Why? What good can such a survey achieve? Considering it found the Mini to be the best car, clearly not very much. It’s proof that democracy doesn’t work. Yes, the best car we British have ever produced was horrible to work on, ran badly and leaked when it rained, and generated pretty much no profit at all. I guess it does at least prove that the Brits really do love something that’s hopeless. Like Eddie the Eagle Edwards.

Don’t get me wrong, the Mini does actually have stuff to recommend it. They do handle well, and they don’t take up a lot of space. The constant engine oil leaks ensure that the front subframe is the one part that doesn’t actually rust too.

But these surveys are just pointless. The Top Ten is basically a list of supercars that few people have ever been near, let alone driven and a slightly-sporty Ford Escort – the rather feeble, incorrectly feted Mexico. Again, not a bad car, but it was the RS models that actually had exciting levels of power and went on to rally successes.  Why present the mild one as the best?

You really can’t go around comparing supercars with family bread-and-butter anyway. The word ‘best’ is so loose that really, it doesn’t say anything at all. It’s just a list of cars in a slightly random order.

Doesn’t handle as well as a Japanese shopping trolley

It’s for reasons like this that I absolutely hate being asked what my favourite car is. I don’t have one, because there is not one car out there that does everything I want from a car. Many cars do many things well – the 2CV for instance. But the 2CV doesn’t have a V8 engine. The Range Rover does, and also does many things well (fourth in the pointless survey by the way) but it can’t deliver 40+mpg. It’s not as much fun to point down a tight, twisty lane as a Daihatsu Sirion either. I don’t have a favourite, because I like all of them. Not having a favourite doesn’t seem to cause me problems in day to day life. It is unnecessary.

There is no point trying to see one car as better than another. Don’t see a list of 100 ‘best’ cars as anything other than a list of cars to try. Even then, don’t rank them against each other. Just enjoy what they are! Cars are not to be ranked. Just enjoy them, and leave pointless surveys to pointless TV programmes.

I’m still trying to re-adjust after a week with a 245bhp Jaguar. My three cars have only 154bhp between them. The thing is, that’s just how I like it. After all, the Jaguar was capable of reaching quite naughty speeds even when still in second gear. What’s the point of that?

Power not included

I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again. Power is not essential to have fun. Any 2CVer knows this, and so do Austin 7 owners and custodians of Austin-Healey Sprites. Power has the ability to make pretty much any car exciting, but it isn’t a must-have ingredient. No matter what the presenters of a so-called motoring programme on the BBC may try to convince you.

The more I drive my 71bhp, non-turbo diesel BX, the more I’m convinced it’s the best engine you could specify. I’ve tried the turbo diesels, and they’re frustrating. Yes, the taller gearing is nice, and accelerating up a hill is a pleasant novelty, but you end up working so hard to keep them on boost. That means extra engine noise, as you must keep it between 2000 and 4000 rpm. By contrast without the turbo, I rarely trouble 3000rpm. Doesn’t sound like fun does it? But it is. I can mash the throttle pedal into the floor in all gears, and barely trouble the law. I also have to work hard to preserve momentum, which is an enjoyable challenge in itself – one alien to those accustomed to loads of power.

Speaking of which, the most exciting BX I’ve ever owned was a 160bhp 16v sports model. It was hilarious with its VTEC-like power delivery but, as with the Jaguar, you really had to blow speed limits to shreds to properly enjoy yourself. I sold it before it blew my driving licence to shreds. I imagine the 1905cc 8-valve petrol is a good engine choice, as you don’t need to rag one of those silly to get a shift on. But it won’t do 50mpg.

So, I’ll stick with the non-turbo diesel. Sure, overtaking needs a lot of planning and care, but that’s probably a good thing anyway. Lots of power means you’re tempted to have a go at gaps that aren’t really there. You can still have lots of fun though, due to the BX’s keen handling and excellent steering. Even when there’s play in the steering rack. After all, the real beauty of diesel for me is simplicity. Once you start bolting on turbos, you’ve started on the slippery slope that has led to today’s hideously complicated, problematic diesel engines. The Keep It Simple Stupid motto really is the way to go.