This is the Galea-mobile. It’s a 1987 Renault. Makes me feel young again.And it makes us all feel a lot taller too. Mark can barely squeezes his 6’2” self into the back seat and its even a tight squeeze for my sister and I, a foot shorter than he is.
My parents bought the rickety old auto about four years ago and are driving it to the dirt before they have to replace it with something that is hopefully bigger and better, and perhaps with power steering this time.
With a full load and in lowest gear, the old engine can barely haul us up the steep slopes of Xaghra, stalling here and there and often just at the crest of a steep hill. Relieved to reach any destination, the lot of us pile out of the car like a clown show at the circus.
My dad confessed to have replaced the windshield washer container with an old plastic detergent bottle and there is a spatula under the hood that holds this mechanism together together.
It’s no wonder I walk myself to the beach every day.
This car can turn even the laziest person into a pedestrian.
