Sophie - first impressions

Fiona's sudden departure - traded in for Sophie - left me rather tearful for a day or two. I had loved that car. You can love things, those vitally important possessions that you use daily; the ones that give you faithful and reliable service. They can become the focus for your highest regard. Plenty of people would say this is a waste of love and affection. Well, I can see what they mean. But it must be better to give some love to a favourite thing, than not give love at all. Human beings need an emotional outlet, and you do whatever you can. Besides, back in the nineteenth century - and for millennia before - I would have had a horse to get around on. Nobody would have questioned my lavishing fondness and expense on a cherished horse who was also my only personal travel option. Or to make that horse a close friend. Fiona was simply the twenty-first century equivalent.

Well, she's gone, and I now have Sophie. And already I think we are going to bond. We have certainly got off to a very good start. 

The first thing I did, after all purchasing formalities at Caffyns Volvo Eastbourne had been dealt with, was to drive to the nearest filling station and get a full tank of diesel. We'd be doing a lot of motoring together over the coming weekend, regardless of how bad the weather might be! In any case, I urgently needed to get used to how Sophie handled on the road. 

After filling up, I headed for Eastbourne's seafront for a first quick photo-shoot, and to begin fine-tuning the equipment settings to my liking. The first thing that struck me was her appearance. Although grey exteriors are commonplace, and nothing special, Sophie's 'Osmium Grey' metallic paintwork did have tiny reflective particles in it that made her catch the ambient light in various ways. She could change colour, depending on the angle of view and how bright the day was. So she could be dark grey, silvery grey, or even blueish:

It wasn't the strong blue Fiona had had, of course, but it was something to distinguish Sophie from completely dull matt-grey cars. 

Could I have got a car with a more spectacular colour? No, not unless I'd been prepared to travel a very long distance to the North, or even Scotland. Research on the internet had shown me that most used diesel Volvo XC60s currently on the market in Sussex were grey, dark grey or white. Cars with more interesting colours existed, but they were (as I said) all up north, or in Scotland, way too distant to inspect them personally before test driving and buying. So although grey would never have been my preferred choice, the colour had to be a secondary consideration if I particularly wanted a low-mileage diesel XC60 with the largest and most powerful diesel engine, and all-wheel drive, the specification you need for caravanning. Pretty well Hobson's Choice.

It was at least a nice, inoffensive grey, and the R-Design detailing added stylish flashes of silver and chrome. But grey cars were ubiquitous, and rather anonymous. I didn't want my car to look like a hundred thousand others. 

Changing the number plate would add distinction. Once the V5 came through from the DVLA, I'd see to that without delay.

What else could I do? I wasn't going to modify her paintwork in any way. But I could put distinctive stickers in her windows, at a top corner front and rear, to make her easier to spot in a crowded car park. As it happened, I had two unused Britannia Rescue stickers from some years ago. These were in red and blue with a white trident symbol on them, rather eye-catching. International Rescue stickers would of course be better - or indeed IMF stickers - but this would do for the time being, until I found something more suitable. 

But it was unnecessary. I soon learned to distinguish Sophie from other grey cars. The sticker was removed next day.

Now let's move on to a batch of important positives. 

In her latter years Fiona had lost these things, which Sophie now restored:

# Door mirrors with memory, that moved in and out. Although the passenger door mirror still worked fine, the mechanism inside the driver's door mirror had worn so much that it extended fully, beyond where I wanted it to stop, right out to its useless limit. I'd turned the motors off, and had resigned myself to having fixed door mirrors. Now I had extending mirrors again, ones that worked properly.

# DAB radio reception. The DAB module was dead, and as access was difficult, replacing it was an expensive operation. It wasn't worth doing, as I still had FM. Now I could have DAB radio stations again. 

# Lit-up driver's sunshade vanity mirror. The electrical contacts were kaput, and in dim light I had no illumination. Now I could put on lipstick at night without the risk of smearing it all over my face, and tidy my hair properly.

Fiona had lacked the following, which Sophie now gave me:

# A large, very clear and colourful navigation screen. It wasn't the super-large and clear touchscreen you get in the latest cars, internet-connected and essentially Google Maps with knobs on. It was still GPS-only. But it was a great improvement on Fiona's old-tech mapping. This, for example, when parked at Bosham, the yachty spot on Chichester Harbour:

And when reversing, I got a sharper rear-camera view, with brighter yellow lines to tell me where the sides of the car were, and where my tyres were going. You can clearly see the (covered) towball. I'm just over three weeks away from Sophie's first hitch-up, when the caravan goes in for a service.

# A fully-digital dashboard display, with a choice of styles. I could now switch between Elegance, a blue and red-themed screen for drivers who simply wanted a pleasant and undistracting screen; Eco, a soothing, calming green-themed screen for drivers chiefly interested in squeezing the most miles from their fuel tank; and Performance, an exciting red and yellow themed screen that was dominated by a rev dial, with one's speed shown by bold white digital numerals: a screen for press-on drivers in a hurry. (The red line at the top edge in each shot was a refection of my red ski jacket)

I tried out the Performance screen, but after half an hour I'd had enough. It was too red, too restless. I settled for the Elegance screen. 

# Bluetooth. Which meant I could pair my phone and supply Sophie with the Internet, take hands-free phone calls if I wished, or just play my music collection through Sophie's speakers. An occasionally handy facility, but not one I'd be making very much use of. Anyway, Sophie and Prudence were paired now.

# A firmer, more controlled ride. Sophie's suspension was stiffer than Fiona's, so (for instance) there was less roll on corners. I expected the ride to be much more fidgety, with more jolts felt, but it wasn't so, although on rough roads Sophie did judder a bit. On the other hand, she felt glued to the road, reassuringly sure-footed on wet roads, with highly responsive steering - although her high-performance Pirelli tyres must have helped. 

# A little more power. Both Fiona and Sophie had the D5 five-cylinder diesel engine, but Sophie's was an uprated version with rather more oomph. Better for hauling a caravan, although successful towing really depended on the engine-gearbox relationship working well, and the auto gearbox being properly efficient. With no previous towing, and only 58,500 miles done, I could expect Sophie to take me around the country for some years ahead without the current factory-fitted auto gearbox getting too tired. But from the start I'd avoid stressing it, intending to make it last until Sophie herself was replaced.

# Sports seats. Fiona's were very good. These were super. Wonderfully comfortable and supportive.    

My initial impressions then. I'll accumulate more in the coming days. Meanwhile, two shots of Sophie at Bosham on Chichester Harbour yesterday, just as the high tide was receding, so that one could park at the water's edge. Note her very pleased new owner.