The MOT did not go well. I knew the outer sills were ropey and unlikely to get through, but had failed to notice that the inner sills had disintegrated quite horribly since I last looked. To think, a Daihatsu dealer had it lifted on a four-post lift earlier in the year on the sill jacking points! Perhaps that’s why they’re now so knackered…

Jehosephat! That’s rotten!

Looking at that picture, I’m amazed the lift didn’t go up while the car remained on the ground! I’m pretty sure the lift exacerbated an already poor situation.

It highlights why the poor car must go. Chasing out rot like that can only get seriously expensive. Or it requires a skill set I simply don’t have. I can’t afford for both of my two cars to end up being a thorough restoration case! As it is, I’m already trying to keep the 2CV going with almost zero budget.

A deal has now been done to find the Sirion a new home. In reality, all I’m doing is passing it on to someone who can take it for that last, fateful drive to the breaker’s yard. Instead, I shall drive home in another dreadful vehicle, which I look forward to introducing you to on Saturday. It has an MOT until next year, which is good news! It also doesn’t have a cambelt, a catalytic converter, an ECU, teeth or bright yellow paintwork. That’s a shame. I was really enjoying driving around in a sunny little car!

The Sirion will be missed, but I doubt I’ll have another. The main issues also apply to other Daihatsus. Corrosion and parts supply. A shame really, as so few cars genuinely impress me. I’m very hard to satisfy. 2CVs manage it, BXs come close but very few go beyond my expectations. The Rover P6 and Daihatsu Sirion are amongst the rare breed. You don’t often see those two mentioned in the same breath.

The Sirion soon lost the silly graphics

Few cars bought for less than £400 have been as reliable as the Sirion. It has needed an exhaust (only because the baffles fell apart), some tyres and brake caliper sliders. I chucked some fresh oil into it but otherwise thrashed it all over the country – from the north of Scotland to the perils of the South East corner of England. It even survived Peterborough.

I think my last drive in it on Saturday will be a rather sombre affair. Or maybe not. One last hurrah and the barking frenzy of that tiny, three-cylinder engine!