By Nathan Green
I am happy to report the Corsa and I both made it through the storms without incident. I am absolutely ecstatic to report that, after a week of quite severe discomfort, my neck is finally fixed. Thankfully, I am now able to move my head independently from the rest of my body, meaning actions required while driving are much easier and much less painful to complete. Also, with looking both ways back in my arsenal of body movements, I can once again nail the Green Cross Code. Winning.
Unfortunately, I also have some not so good news – the front bumper splitter has sort of, um, fallen off. Well, half of it has.
The front splitter is the lowermost part of the front bumper, a relatively small, usually plastic lip that aides aerodynamic stability and is also used to form part of the cars visual identity, making the front end appear closer to the ground by actually making it closer to the ground. Amazing stuff, I know.
Anyway, the Corsa has a two-part splitter which is clipped onto the bottom of the front bumper and is made of two pieces of cheap, unpainted moulded plastic that join in the middle and reflect each other, covering the full lower frontal area of the car. The half of the splitter which was once connected to the passenger side of the bumper (the side which, coincidently, was subject to a vicious battering from the sporadic patches of standing water that existed on almost every road I drove on last week) came unstuck and was dragging along the floor.
I actually have no idea how long it had been hanging there, I can only hope it wasn’t long as it was not a good look. It seemed to draw the attention of many people as I left the gym on Wednesday. I rolled slowly through the car park at Stratford Park, totally ignorant to the plastic appendage hanging, being tortured by a combination of friction and heat, the tarmac grinding away at its edges. I got to the roundabout at the bottom of the car park and gave way to a car coming from my right. The guy driving said car pointed at me then pointed at the floor. I was baffled, thinking I had run over something. Then a lady walked over and told me something was broken on the bumper and whatever it was, was hanging off. A young Polish man even bent down and tried to clip the splitter back on for me but he explained it was broken, in broken English. Top man for trying, though. Would you do that for someone you didn’t know? I appreciated it, that’s for sure.
With a queue forming behind me I had to drive on and pull over again in a suitable place just a few hundred metres up the road. I tried to clip the splitter back on but I was cold and it was fiddly. With it barely hanging on, it was easier to just remove it (gently of course) and place it neatly in the boot. The front end face created by the headlight eyes, the Vauxhall badge nose and the bumper grill mouth is now missing a front splitter, or a tooth, to follow the facial feature trend. It looks wonky and will need to be fixed as soon as possible. I’ll need to dust off my patient hat and find some suitable tools. Working on a Vauxhall Corsa again. My first car was a Corsa, but that one had a turbo’d Red Top underneath the bonnet. Happy times…
On a different note: Blog editor Tim and I met yesterday, Sunday, to discuss a few things about the blog: current audience (expanding every week, thank you all), what the future holds, plans for expansion and eventual total world domination. But I digress. A valid point was raised about the longevity of this piece due to the fact that all cars have a useable life, a company car probably has a shorter and harder “life” than most, and you, the audience, need to read fresh stuff to keep it all interesting and enjoyable. We will, eventually, need to change the core subject matter of this piece- the Vauxhall Corsa.
I know this will be tinged with sadness, like the passing of a Top Gear ‘Reasonably Priced Car’ but it made me think. I work for a media company. We print car reviews in our newspapers to attract reader interest. I’m writing a weekly review based around my company car which, for some strange reason, is attracting reader interest. Surely giving me a different, brand new, company car every week, or month, their choice (always giving) and letting me write their reviews would be an intelligent business decision? Or is it just an exuberant and delusional fantasy created by someone clearly getting well ahead of their station? Only one way to find out I guess: get the corporate email address book out and find a suitable recipient for my request. What was it I said a few pieces back about not being afraid to ask?
Weekly Mileage- 346
Fuel Cost: £35
Repair cost: £0 (splitter needs fixing, no quotes yet.)
Repair costs (2014)- £849