Do sensible people buy a second hand Visa, drive in it for years and then refuse to part with it? I don't know, but I did... I even decided to restore it. How did it come this far?

In the beginning, there was the 1981 metallic sea-green Visa Super E of my brother Maarten: his first car. Although Visas were notorious rusters those days, my brother's car is known to have lasted for about ten years.

Maarten traded in his Visa I for a bright red 1986 Visa 11 RE in 1989. By then, I drove a blue Lancia Delta, which was reputedly a car for the real conoisseur. I had never been impressed by the Visa. Hence, Maarten's choice was treated to a good laugh. But when the Lancia kept losing parts and became totally immobile by a definitive failure of the terrible electrics (the car was six years old, remember...), I was forced to look for a quick solution. Maarten was very content with the Visa en his dealer. And so it occured, that I found myself behind the wheel of a Visa in the same shade of red as my brother's. PL-41-HK, as the number plates indicated, was meant to be a means of temporary transport. I was wrong. The Visa grew on me, faster and intenser than I could have imagined.

Maarten and his first Visa. Today, he drives a Toyota Prius...

A certain drawback was that the cars of Maarten and me differed so little. The only difference was, that his car had a five speed, and my car a four speed gearbox. On the outside, it did not show. Even the keys were almost identical. You could enter both cars with one key. Ignition, however, only worked with the original key. If you wanted to be funny, you could go to a voluntary Visa and unlock it. I tried once before the eyes of a perplexed group of collaegues. Maarten once night sat in what he thought was his own car. When starting the car proved to be fruitless failed he discovered his fault: it was mine!

When I bought the Visa, there were about 60.000 kilometers on the clock. With each year, the kilometrage grew and grew. My girl friend Monieke and I travelled a lot each summer, and the humble red car proved to be an excellent companion.

The Visa remained a steady partner for many years, but around 1995, when the car had covered 200.000 kilometers, more often problems arose. Especially the carburettor became troublesome. Accelerating became tricky: when you did it wrong, the engine stalled. People who did not know the car could actually not drive it. In 1996 we planned a holiday in Denmark. The carburettor problem was worse than ever. We doubted: was the Visa still reliable enough, or should we buy something else? Under the pressure of time, we nearly bought a Skoda Felicia... Happily, the Visa was repaired in time, and we set for the journey.

Our home journey from Denmark was quite thrilling: after a short distance, the light switch gave up, causing the lights to fail. We drove very fast to reach our home in time before dark. We hardly succeeded.

In the end, a new car finally had to come. It became a metallic blue Citroën Saxo with five doors, just like the Visa. But, how strange: I had become attached to my own little Visa. Even the new car could't take the fondness away (although the Saxo is really a much better car than the Visa, which has become rather out of date). So I donated the car to Monieke's mother, who drove a very old Volkswagen Golf at the time.

But, after two years, disaster struck: the car was declared unfit and had to be taken off the road. There were various problems: rust in vital places, defective brakes, bad shock absorbers, and more. The engine was worn out. Was there any other road than the road to the breaker?

November, 1998: abandoned! Does really nobody love me?

A Visa can be dismantled quickly and easily: in the picture left after a few days in the workshop. below after a few weeks when, effectively, there had been worked on the car for only a few hours.

When the Visa was dismantled, it appeared that rust had done more harm than expected. The front doors were obviously very bad. It seemed appropriate to look out for better ones, but doors without rust, unless brand new, were hard to obtain. When no alternatives came up, another strategy was chosen. Juan, known as the best panel beater in the world, made in a couple of hours the most wonderful replacement panels one can imagine.

The bottom of the car looked reasonable, with only a few tiny holes to repair. The most unpleasant surprise was near the left rear wheelarch. After the last technical inspection, we knew that somewhere in that area something had badly rusted. The size of the gap, however, really appalled us: it measured about nine inches. On the right side, strange enough no rust was found. Large as it was, this final gap was closed too in February, 2000.

Besides the rust mentioned, ther were numerous other spots of rust: at edges, in the engine compartment, at the bottom of the doors, and so on.

The engine could be overhauled, but in view of the cost, it seemed more sensible to search for a good donor. My Visa never performed very well, and was also quite thirsty on petrol. So, when it comes to swapping engines, we plan to fit an engine with a five speed gearbox.

Frequently, people are amazed to see a humble Visa in a restauration workshop. They think the owner must be out of his mind. Who ever is so crazy to invest in such a worthless car?

February, 2000: the rust has been cut out, new metal has been welded in. Now is the waiting for the moment the bodywork will be prepared for spraying.

PL-41-HK, ready for the final work.