"MY first car was a 1947 MG Midget which I bought for £200 in 1962 after seeing an advert in the newspaper.

It was a thing of beauty. I had seen one in a garage in Ferryhill and it was the car of my dreams.

My father took me out and we saw various cars which were all probably very sensible buys, but I only wanted an MG Midget.

The going rate was £150 for it, but I paid £200. I was a teacher and it was all the money I had at the time.

I was crazy, but I was young.

It had its own visitors book which I used to ask people I took for a ride to write in. Some just signed their names, but others put comments in. My Uncle Jack wrote 'Flintstone Bus'.

Lots of the entries relate to things I had to get fixed - January 6: Car wouldn't start, battery needed replacing, 17 and 6. January 14: Puncture repair, four shillings. January 17: Backed slowly and carefully into a wall - no visible damage to car. February 18: Here I am sitting outside Burnmoor church, supposedly on my way to Stanwick. I have had a breakdown. I think a half-shaft has gone. I am waiting for a tow and wondering how long it will be and what it will cost.

Every journey was an adventure.

I once got a police escort after quite an interesting evening.

I had been to a dance in Frosterley and it was quite late. I was giving someone a lift who said rude things about my car, so I said 'right, out you get'. I went zooming off and suddenly realised I didn't know where I was. I did what I always did and got out and stood looking mournful.

A car came along and the driver asked if I was okay. He said he would take his lady home and come back. I said I needed to be at the Brown Horse in Weardale and I could find my way home from there.

I waited a while and a car past and his lights flashed, so I flashed mine and set off after him. All of a sudden a police car came zooming past and stopped in between us. Two policemen got out and on seeing me one started to laugh and said 'that's not him'. Apparently there had been a murder in Weardale and the suspected murderer had gone off in a red sports car. They had seen all the light flashing business and stopped my car.

The policeman asked how fast my car would go. I said it said 120mph on the clock, but I said it might get up to 70mph. They said 'right, follow us'. I had never had a ride like it, it was quite exhilarating.

I now drive a Vauxhall Agila."