Sunday began in an unusual way, with a packed schedule and a strange mix of emotions. First up was Luke’s very first rugby training session with De La Salle Palmerstown, up at Kirwan Park for 9am. There was a buzz of excitement for him, but waiting for me afterwards was a challenge closer to home, quite literally parked in the driveway.
For the past four years, my wife’s first car had sat idle, gathering moss, bird droppings, and the nickname “The Jungle Gym.” Rose, Luke, and their friends had turned it into their personal climbing frame and parcour pen. My wife had long wanted it gone, or so she thought. Dealerships regularly left offers to take it away for scrap, but I wasn’t ready to let it go like that. It never felt right. This little car, a 2006 Renault Clio, had history.
Then came the neighbourly twist. My next-door neighbour had spotted a request: another local was looking for a starter car for their son. That struck a chord. That was how I always imagined the Clio leaving our family, not as scrap, but as a helping hand for someone starting out. I told my neighbour to pass on my number, and just like that, we arranged for the car to change hands on Sunday.
Bringing the Clio Back to Life
After Luke’s training, I set about preparing the car. Off came the roof rack stacked with LEGO boxes and other bits and pieces. The electronic key refused to open the car, so I had to climb onto the roof to manually unlock the passenger door (the passenger side of the car wasn’t accessible due to being parked against the driveway wall. From there I clambered into the back, popped the bonnet, and hooked up jump leads from the X-Trail. To my surprise, the Clio roared back to life immediately.
The front left tyre had been flat for two years, wedged up against the driveway wall, but I managed to move the car onto the road and swap in the spare from its clever under-boot cradle. A trip to the petrol station revealed the tyre would hold air for now, though the wall damage meant a new one was inevitable.
The dashboard threw up warnings for the passenger airbag and power steering, but I suspected a new battery would solve most of it. I gave the car a deep clean, removing moss, scrubbing off bird mess, and even reattaching the grill. Slowly, the old Clio began to look presentable again, ready for collection.
Buyer’s Remorse
The new “owner” arrived, keys were exchanged, and with the X-Trail giving a boost, the Clio rolled to the end of our road. Then, everything cut off. We parked it at the bottom of the street, locked it (with help from jump leads), and he walked away with the keys.
Less than an hour later, my phone buzzed. It was the buyer. He’d spoken to a mechanic who warned of possible clutch and accelerator issues. Spooked, he pulled out. Classic buyer’s remorse.
Seller’s Remorse
I collected the keys back from him at the local Fresh and returned home, ready to tell Jill the deal had fallen through. To my surprise, she was delighted. Seeing the car cleaned up, roof rack gone, she admitted to her own wave of seller’s remorse. This was her first car, 18 years of memories, buzzing around Stillorgan with her friends. And with the X-Trail being used for LEGO runs instead of my motorbike, maybe we did need a second car after all.
The Happy Ending
So began the rescue mission:
- New battery from Autocare, Bird Avenue – €70
- New tyre from Sandyford Tyre Centre – €95
- Full service booked in Sandyford – €260
- NCT test – €60
- Insurance with Allianz – just €295 for the year
Suddenly, for under €800, the Clio had a whole new lease of life. Jill was thrilled, and so was I. A reliable second car, perfect for juggling rugby training, swimming runs, and LEGO hauls.
Ironically, the buyer came back once again, asking if he could still have it. But by then, the decision was made: the Clio stays. Apologies.
From Driveway Eyesore to Roadside Companion
With the front grill, radio aerial, and wipers reattached, a stitched-up driver’s seat, the new tyre, and that new battery humming, the Clio is no longer an ornament in the driveway. It’s now the runaround we needed, ready to help with the logistics of Redmond’s Forge life, whether that’s getting Luke to rugby and football while Jill and Rose head elsewhere, or driving me to the next LEGO pickup.
And fittingly, that same evening, I took it on its first outing in years, down to Killiney for some Star Wars LEGO, then on to Carnew, Co. Wicklow for six Minecraft sets (car old headed to Carnew), before swinging by Tinahely to check out our future unit in Riverside Business Park. A full-circle moment of community, family, and fresh starts.
From buyer’s remorse to seller’s remorse, it turned into the happiest of endings. The Clio is back, the family is happy, and life moves forward, with two sets of four wheels.
