The Stag has always seemed to me one of the most beautifully designed cars around - all swoops and burble. I'd had the chance to have a spin in one once. After Mandy and I became an 'item' in the December of 1984, we were both invited up to her parents' place in Scotland to see in the New Year. Mandy's mother and step-father lived in a huge lodge with a drive longer than the M6. As we rounded the last bend of the drive in our taxi, the lodge revealed itself and there, nonchalontly parked at a jaunty angle, was a highly polished, regularly serviced, purple Stag. I could hardly contain myself. It was Mandy's mother's car and she very kindly gave me the keys the next day and suggested Mandy and I go for a drive. (more...)
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