Louise Limb
After months of rain the venerable Freelander, like everything else, is becoming rather soggy. Pressed into service on alternate days to eke out the miserly mileage allowance permitted under the unreasonably expensive insurance terms, the Land Rover’s eager TD4 engine is relishing the 90 mile commute my other half has begun travelling each day, a more economical if tedious VW Golf doing the other 50 per cent of what are currently very wet journeys. As a result, the old blue Freelander is becoming cosmetically rather sad looking. Kept outside, the metal window seals are crimping even further, giving their rubber coating a curled appearance, the rust spots are spreading and the rear door is becoming even tattier. I dread the day if and when the incredibly complex rear window cum door lock mechanism breaks. Nevertheless, with the repeated deluges something was bound to give.