Perhaps unsurprisingly, I'm keen to relate Caterham tales more regularly than "normal" people (I shall call you Muggles) are prepared to endure. I imagine this is a process all friends and relatives of new owners have to go through, whilst all secretly wishing they could chew their own ears off instead of hearing another anecdote about steering feel or more justification that it really is practical. Sort of.
Anyway, I know my wife has gone up to and beyond that point - she's had years of motorsport anyway. What normal human being gets up, on the day the clocks go forward, to watch the Australian GP, not only securing a very early start, but losing that extra hour? Me, that's who. And I do it because I have friends who do it too, so if I didn't, I'd have to ignore every text on my phone until I'd seen the conclusion of the race.
I digress. The poor lady is not only enduring a mind-numbingly tedious torrent of Caterham this/driving that, but she's had it for the two weeks leading up to the purchase too. I told her if she got in and immediately hated it, then I wouldn't buy it. I was very nervous she might do just that, though I think she was equally nervous I would throw myself to the floor in a full on public tantrum. One of the most important aspects of purchasing the car was making sure I can live with it every day, but also striving to make it liveable for my wife too. Writing things on here, which is ultimately just a convenient place for me to record thoughts, wrapped up in a little more words and detail just in case a few other people find it useful, is one of the ways I'm safeguarding my wife from the full onslaught of keenness. That way when she sees the car she'll hopefully look forward to the journey, instead of having a subconscious urge to rip my arm off, and beat the car and I to a bloody, but mercifully silent pulp.
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