It’s 1983, and my first day as a paper boy at the local newsagent in Motspur Park, South London. I’m waiting outside the shop by myself at 6am for the manager to arrive; it’s quiet, a milkman is delivering his goods and pulls up just in front of the shop, double parking next to a throng of Cortinas, Vivas and Allegros - all rubbish British cars of the time! A Guards red 911 with a whaletail pulls up behind the milk float, waiting for a car to pass from the other direction. For a few seconds I’m mesmerised by the shape and the noise. It’s the first time I have seen one in the metal. The driver then overtakes the milk float and fully gasses it up the road, over the level crossing and up the hill into the distance, leaving me with a memory I’ll never forget. I then spent the next 35 years dreaming of owning my own 911: cue many years of searching Autotrader, throwing up a few ‘nearly’ moments along the way. I didn’t quite have the budget, or the car wasn’t right, you know the score… Then, a visit to Luftgekühlt GB (on the only rainy day in the glorious summer of 2018) pushed me to start the search for that dream 911. I toyed with a G body, maybe a 964 or 993, all of which were on my radar.
I found my 993 in Bridport on the other side of Dorset, at a Porsche specialist called Marque 21. They’d looked after the 993 for the last 16 years of the then-owner’s stewardship, carrying out all services and some select modifications. The seats were converted to Sports seats by Southbound Trimmers, an RS steering wheel was fitted, along with red seat belts, lowering springs, refurbished Cup 2 wheels with red centres, a tuning chip, motorsound air filter housing, and big oval tailpipes amongst others. Colin, the owner, had completed many trips to Europe over those 16 years. In his 70s by September ’18, Colin decided to sell the car due to a knee operation that made driving a manual difficult. I made my offer and had the car inspected, which came back fine. The deal was done and the 911 was mine.