A jolly little charity shop find - and an easily attached, rustproof brassiere repair outfit that came under the name that was the mark of value - Winfield. Winfield was for many years the own brand labrl of that once bastion of UK High Streets F W Woolworth and indeed, the W stood for Winfield. This little packet, in cellophane wrapping, enabled repairs to be made to the bra but hopefully it wasn't like a bike tube repair kit, to be carried with you in case of the need of a running repair.

1940's era home in Evergreen Park. Sold in 2020

The new owner painted the brick house a steel blue in the spring of 2020. The house had been vacant for about 2 years after the owners died.

A new six foot tall, solid board fence with steel posts was erected around the yard, replacing the original 48" cyclone fence. At least the decades old tree is still there.

In the 70's the owner of the local Ziebart Rustproofing lived here.

Originally conceived by British Leyland, the Metro was built to similar principals as those of the Mini it was intended to replace, with a small, practical platform with as much use available to the passenger as was possible. The car came under various initial guises, including the Austin Metro, the Austin miniMetro, the Morris Metro van and the MG Metro, a version of the car with a 1.3L A-Series Turbo Engine.

Although the car was launched in 1980, development of a Mini replacement had dated back to the beginning of the 70's. Dubbed ADO88 (Amalgamated Drawing Office project number 88), the Metro was eventually given the go ahead in 1977, but wanted to have the appeal of some of the larger 'Supermini' (what a contradiction in terms) cars on the market, including cars such as the Ford Fiesta and the Renault 5. Designed by Harris Mann (the same guy who gave us the Princess and the Allegro), the car was given a much more angular body for the time, but despite its futuristic looks did share many features of the earlier Mini, including the 675cc BMC-A Series engine that dated back to 1959, and the gearbox. Initial cars also included the Hydragas Suspension system originally used on the Allegro and the Princess, though with no front/rear connection. The car was also built as a hatchback, which would eventually be a key part of its success as the Mini instead utilised only a small boot.

The Metro was originally meant for an earlier 1978 launch, but a lack of funds and near bankruptcy of British Leyland resulted in the car's launch being pushed back. This delay however did allow the folks at Longbridge to construct a £200m robotic assembly plant for the new Metro line, with the hope of building 100,000 cars per year. Finally the car entered sales 3 years late and got off to quite promising initial sales, often being credited for being the saviour of British Leyland. The Metro was in fact the company's first truly new model in nearly 5 years, with the 9 year old Allegro still in production, the 1980 Morris Ital being nothing more than a 7 year old Marina with a new face, and the 5 year old Princess not going anywhere!

As mentioned, an entire myriad of versions came with the Metro, including the luxury Vanden Plas version and the sporty MG with its top speed of 105mph and 0-60mph of 10.1 seconds. Eventually the original incarnation of the car, the Austin Metro, went on to sell 1 million units in it's initial 10 year run, making it the second highest selling car of the decade behind the Ford Escort. However, like most other British Leyland products, earlier cars got a bad reputation for poor build quality and unreliability, combined with the lack of rustproofing that was notorious on many BL cars of the time.

The show was not over however, as in 1990 the car was given a facelift and dubbed the Rover Metro. The 1950's A-Series engine was replaced by a 1.1L K-Series, and the angular bodyshell was rounded to similar principals as those by acclaimed styling house Ital to create a more pleasing look for the 90's. This facelift, combined with an improvement in reliability and build quality, meant that the car went on to win the 'What Car?' of the Year Award in 1991.

In 1994 the car was given yet another facelift, with once again a more rounded design and removal of the Metro name, the car being sold as the Rover 100. Engines were once again changed, this time to a 1.5L Peugeot engine and more audacious colour schemes were available for the even more rounded design of the new car. However, the car was very much starting to look and feel its age. Aside from the fact that the design dated back to 1977, the new car was not well equipped, lacking electric windows, anti-lock brakes, power steering, or even a rev counter! In terms of safety, it was very basic, with most features such as airbags, an alarm, an immobiliser and central locking being optional extras.

Eventually the curtain had to fall on the Metro, and in 1997, twenty years after the initial design left the drawing board, it was announced that the car would be discontinued. Spurred on by dwindling sales due to lack of safety and equipment, as well as losing out to comparative cars such as the ever popular Ford Fiesta, VW Polo and Vauxhall Corsa, with only fuel economy keeping the car afloat, Rover axed the Metro in 1998 with no direct replacement, although many cite the downsized Rover 200 a possible contender. Stumbling blindly on, the next car to fill the gap in Rover's market was the 2003 CityRover, based on the TATA Indica, which flopped abysmally and pretty much totalled the company (but that's another story).

In the end only 2,078,000 Metro's were built in comparison to the 5.3 million examples of the Mini that it was meant to replace. The main failings of the Metro were down to the fact that the car was too big compared to the Mini, and the rounded old-world charm of the Coopers and Clubmans was replaced by the angular corners. Because of this the car simply didn't have the novelty that the Mini continued to claim even 20 years after the first ones left the factory, and the Mini would even go on to outlive the Metro by another 2 years, ending production in 2000, then going on to have a revival in the form of BMW's New Mini Cooper that's still being built today. Unlike the Mini, the Metro also failed to conquer the international market in the same way, scoring its 2 million units pretty much in Britain alone, although some cars were sold in France and Spain, but only to the total of a few hundred.

The Metro however survived only on fuel economy and its spacious interior, but by the early 1990's, whilst other car manufacturers had moved on leaps and bounds, Rover continued to be stuck in the past with not the money or the enthusiasm to change what was a terribly outdated and extremely basic car. Towards the end the Metro, which had only a few years earlier won awards for its practical nature, was ending up on lists for Worst car on the market.

Today however you can still see Metro's, later editions are especially common on the roads of Britain. Earlier models built under British Leyland have mostly rusted away and are apparently only down to about a thousand nowadays, but the Rover 100's and Rover Metros continue to ply their trade, a lonely reminder of how here in Britain, we can never ever seem to move on! :S

Hand beaded hangers for Blythe, Pullip, Barbie Doll Clothes.

Solids to "national flag" colours.

Or will customize!

24 colours to choose from (top-bottom, L-R)

white, shimmery white/silver, pearlized white, plum

emerald green, lime green, passionate red, copper

royal blue, baby blue, pearlized pink, pink centre & clear outer bead

encased blue, pearlized blue, national colours-yellow, green, white & red, white,blue

coffee brown, khaki, national colours, yellow, blue & red, white

shimmery gold, solid gold, black, national colours, red, green, white

barbie hanger, plain hanger with beads, pink and grey barbie hanger (barbie hangers to show comparison for size).

pearlized lavendar and pearlized peach not shown.

the plain hangers come with a large selection of beads you can string on.

Playing with the AfterFocus app that fakes DoF blur and bokeh - quite intelligently (if not with forensic accuracy)

Ah, the Morris Marina, the woeful shame that sent the British car industry 20 years back, the poorly designed waste that failed to achieve any of the most basic goals set by car builders, a machine that has become a by-word for failure and a symbol for terrible workmanship and everything that was wrong with British industry in the 1970's, and nowadays known better for being cannon-fodder for an onslaught of spontaneous piano drops...

But much like the Austin Allegro, is it really as bad as all that?

The Morris Marina was launched in 1971 by British Leyland to replace the 23 year old Morris Minor. Designed by Roy Haynes, the Marina, despite being considered repugnant by many, doesn't actually look that bad, in some cases it's better than the Allegro. It was very much a design staple of its time, with the Hillman Avenger, the Vauxhall Viva and the Ford Escort sharing very similar bodyshapes.

But the problems came with its other developments. The car may have had a new body, but underneath it was just another Morris Minor, sharing a majority of parts including the suspension, with some models being powered by the BMC A-Series engine from the Mini.

Nevertheless, the car was launched in 1971 after only 18 months of development, and was made available across the Commonwealth under a variety of badges, including the Leyland Marina in Australia, the Austin Marina in North America, and the Morris 1700 in New Zealand. It was also available in a selection of trim tabs, including a 4-door saloon, a 2-door coupé, a camper variant and as a pickup truck.

Much like the Allegro, the Marina did sell well initially, being the 2nd highest selling car in the UK behind the Ford Cortina in 1973, but was not without major public issues to begin with.

During initial reviews the poorly put together press cars suffered from terrible suspension trouble which resulted in the cars finding it near impossible to take corners. Although this problem was later rectified, 39,000 cars still went out with this original poor suspension without recall to fix these issues.

But after the initial design faults came to light, the production quality faults were the next issue. Much like the Allegro, during strike periods, strike cars left the factories with major components missing, or pieces of trim not in place or not functioning properly, or suffered heavily from malfunctions, be they mechanically or electronically. At the same time the sheer lack of rustproofing on these cars meant that showing them a damp cloth would result in the bare metal brown of death appearing in more places than one.

Even so, the car did continue to sell, and achieve the goal of being basic, simple motoring for the masses despite all its faults, and remained in production for 9 years until it was replaced by a facelifted version known as the Ital in 1980. Although the Ital also sold well for its 4 year production life, the legacy of its forebears was still enough to tarnish its reputation, mixed with a less than stellar body design.

Today both Marina's and Ital's are near impossible to come by. Of the 809,000 Marina's built, only 670 remain on the roads, whilst of the 175,000 Ital's sold, only 174 continue to exist.

This is not helped by the running gag on the BBC car show Top Gear, where whenever a Marina appears on the show it is destroyed by a randomly falling piano dropped by the helicopter piano haulage company 'Careless Airways'.

But either way, despite all its criticism, I personally don't think the Marina is as bad a car as the world gives it credit for. Sure it's basic, not well equipped, slow, unreliable and prone to rusting, but as a small family car that ambles about the countryside, it's not as bad as some obscure Eastern Block models, and even today holds a place in the hearts of many as either a happy-go-lucky little runabout, or a cautionary tale of how not to build a car.

Although not as famous, or in this case infamous, as the Austin Allegro, the Morris Marina has often been placed as a contender for worst car ever made ever, a point I find very confusing when you really think about it. I've heard so many people at car shows mention how it was the bane of the British motor industry, how it set us back 20 years and was such a massive failure that it made the Allegro look like a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow in comparison!

But is it true? Is the Morris Marina, that car we all know and love for the various onslaught of spontaneous piano drops, really the most awful thing to come out of Britain's automotive history?

The Morris Marina was launched in 1971, and immediately inundated with problems, largely because of what it was replacing, that symbolic and beautiful piece of post-war British design, the Morris Minor of 1948. The 23 year old design had long passed its sell-by date, and the Marina was meant to be the superb next step for the 1970's. The design and styling was done by Roy Haynes, famous also for the facelifted Mini Clubman and the Ford Cortina, and externally the car was, dare I say, quite handsome. I know, shock horror, but despite being considered repugnant by many, I honestly believe the Marina doesn't actually look that bad, following what appeared to be a design staple of its time with the Hillman Avenger, the Vauxhall Viva and the Ford Escort sharing very similar bodyshapes.

But styling was the least of the Marina's problems, as in a bid to get the car into production in 18 months, the hashed together design was based almost entirely on the Morris Minor it was built to replace. Essentially, underneath the new 1970's body, the Morris Marina is nothing more than another Minor, sharing a majority of parts including the suspension, with some models being powered by the BMC A-Series engine from the Mini. In fact many people cannibalized Morris Marina's back in the 1980's and 90's so as to keep their various Morris Minor projects alive due to the high parts compatibility.

Nevertheless, 18 months of development (in spite of the recommended 32) later, the car hit the showrooms on the 27th March, 1971, and was made available across the Commonwealth under a variety of badges during its production life, including the Leyland Marina in Australia, the Austin Marina in North America, and the Morris 1700 in New Zealand. It was also available in a selection of trim tabs, including a 4-door saloon, a 2-door Coupé, a camper variant, a panel van and as a pickup truck.

Much like the Allegro, the Marina did sell well initially, being the 2nd highest selling car in the UK behind the Ford Cortina in 1973, but was not without major public issues to begin with.

During initial reviews the poorly put together press cars suffered from terrible suspension trouble which resulted in the cars finding it near impossible to take corners. Although this problem was later rectified, 39,000 cars still went out with this original poor suspension without recall to fix these issues.

But after the initial design faults came to light, the production quality faults were the next issue. Much like the Allegro, during strike periods, strike cars left the factories with major components missing, or pieces of trim not in place or not functioning properly, or suffered heavily from malfunctions, be they mechanically or electronically. At the same time the sheer lack of rustproofing on these cars meant that showing them a damp cloth would result in the bare metal brown of death appearing in more places than one.

Even so, the car did continue to sell, and achieve the goal of being basic, simple motoring for the masses despite all its faults, and remained in production until it was replaced by a facelifted version that would become synonymous with lazy ideas.

In 1980, the nine year old Marina was given a new look dubbed the Ital, a name obviously spun to try and draw in the masses for people who thought that this car had been designed by the same people who gave us the Maserati Merak, the Alfasud, the DeLorean and the Lotus Esprit. In fact the truth of the matter is the Morris Ital was a lie in its name, as ItalDesign had only been asked by British Leyland to provide creative consultancy to the company during development. Although Ital did take a look, the final product was the brainchild of Harris Mann, BL's chief engineer who had been known for other strange concoctions like the Triumph TR7, the Princess and the Allegro. Not all blame can fall on Harris Mann though, by God I'm sure he tried, indeed many of his preliminary designs for the Allegro and the Princess looked magnificently space-age, but after some watering down by the folks at British Leyland head office, these things were very much less than stellar.

Other than that though, the Morris Ital, for all intents and purposes, was exactly the same as the Marina that preceded it, same running gear, same door panels, same dashboard, same everything, except this time it had big chunky headlights and tail-lights. In fact you could say that the Morris Ital internally dated back to 1948, seeing as a majority of its internal parts were simply handed down from the Minor! Reliability hadn't improved much and the car was still very basic in terms of equipment. From its launch in 1980 the car was sold as a pickup truck, a van, and a 5-door family estate, although plans for a Sport Coupé were ultimately scrapped. Some cars were also produced in Portugal at the British Leyland factory in Setubal, with these cars being outshopped with 1950's B-Series engines that gave the dizzying power output of 37hp!

Sales however were reasonable, largely due to its low price and running costs, but its reliability and build quality left a lot to be desired. Eventually only 175,000 cars were produced by the time production ended in 1984, the car being replaced by the new Austin Maestro and Montego. The Ital however does have the distinction of being the last production car to wear the Morris badge as after this no other cars were given this name, although this was briefly placed on the Morris Metro van. The Ital did, for some very strange reason, gain a revival in 1998, when the First Auto Works Group of Sichuan province, China, started building the cars again as the Huandu CAC6430 until the closure of the factory in 1999, another very obscure revival of a British Leyland product, but oddly enough 15 years after the last Itals were built!

Today both Marina's and Ital's are near impossible to come by. Of the 809,000 Marina's built, only 670 remain on the roads, whilst of the 175,000 Ital's sold, only 174 continue to exist. As mentioned, most Ital's and Marina's were taken apart as spares donors for the older and far more popular Morris Minor, seeing as a majority of their parts they shared. This is not helped by the running gag on the BBC car show Top Gear, where whenever a Marina appears on the show it is destroyed by a randomly falling Piano dropped by the helicopter Piano haulage company 'Careless Airways'.

But either way, despite all its criticism, I personally don't think the Marina is as bad a car as the world gives it credit for. Even the Ital I'll give some credit as a form of basic motoring, and from some angles it does look quite handsome. Sure it's basic, not well equipped, slow, unreliable and prone to rusting, but as a small family car that ambles about the countryside, it's not as bad as some obscure Eastern Block models, and even today holds a place in the hearts of many as either a happy-go-lucky little runabout, or a cautionary tale of how not to build a car.

Saints and Sinner Chapter Two Mount Royal St Josephs Oratory

The only references I had to Saints in my life were through my Roman Catholic elementary classes and the church. As a child of catholic parents I have to assume that becoming a catholic, a member of the Roman Catholic Church was my birth right. I certainly had no say in it nor was I ever asked if I ever wanted to participate in this organization. In Ontario, Canada where I have lived my life the Catholic Church is a very strong organization that is very powerful in that a large portion of the education dollars in our province are meted out to either the catholic school board or the public school board. When you pay your taxes you are asked on your tax return which board you support. I think this system is under some fire as numerous other religion based organizations are looking to operate their own schools under their rules, they need funding approval to do this. It won’t be an easy nut to crack this two tier system. In my opinion the sensible solution is to have a one tier system only, with no preferential treatment towards any religious bodies.

I have no complaints about my education in the hands of the Roman Catholics. In fact there are times when I appreciate the efforts they made to instill some values in me that come in handy from time to time. Those values include the idea of what is right and what is wrong, though some will argue this point is also taught in the public school system. To those I say, ‘yes, but to a lesser degree.’ Part of our time in catholic school was spent studying the lives of the Saints. In my last year at Our Lady of Victory school we had a priest come to the class room one day and the nature of his chat was very interesting. He spoke about the miracles that various Catholic saints had been party to while they were in their human bodies. For some reason the images that the priest presented of the Saints and their miraculous, cures, manifestations of objects and healing of the ill intrigued me. I remember being overwhelmed by the excitement of his talk, until I was told to be quiet and take my seat as the subject was changed to general Catechism study, this was exceptionally boring, for me, in comparison to the Super Hero stories associated with the Saints.

Any recollection of which specific miracles Father Robitaille was discussing in our grade eight Catechism class have all been forgotten. A quick check on the web tells me of hundreds if not thousands of miracles performed by Catholic Saints over the years. They are all interesting, we have a lot of images of the Virgin Mary appearing to people. One of the biggest miracles is Christs own rising from the dead on Easter Sunday. A man named Joseph of Corpernicus was said to be able to levitate or float this was in the 1630s. As far back as 300 AD Saint Januarius produced liquefying blood three separate times each year. In 700 AD we have the miracle of Lanciano in which the wine and wafers used at communion transform into human tissue said to be the body of Christ. Tawdry by the previous standards Saint Malachy of Ireland was able to prophesise the forthcoming popes, the church is still investigating. Healing is often attributed to the Saints, especially issues involving the limbs of those born with defects. For example thousands have been healed who visited the water at Fatima, their left crutches a reminder of the healing. Obviously, miracles come in all sizes and shapes, bleeding statues are quite common and some have gone under the microscope to be proven true. Faith is indeed a very powerful thing.

The keeping of relics is another Catholic habit. There are over a dozen churches in the United States for example that have body parts of revered persons on display, the arm of Saint Jude one of the twelve disciples is housed in a church in the states, it often goes on display. I myself am familiar with the display of the heart of Brother Andre` of Montreal. As a boy I attended the spectacular St Josephs Oratory on Mount Royal and was impressed with the heart on display but also with the thousands of walking sticks and canes on display in this section of the church. Those devices were all given to the church as mementoes from believers who had their lameness and other maladies cured by praying to Brother Andre`

In the sixth grade I remember my teacher, Miss Christopher asking all of us to come to the front of the class and tell the class something about their family history. Before going that day I had peppered my mother with questions of what my grandfather Noel Lemay did in Quebec. I knew he was a master carpenter, someone who could design and build whatever he wanted all the way from homes to fine wooden work in churches. There were paintings in our house that my grandfather had created, oil paintings that hung on our walls, if nothing else these paintings acted as windows to him, his soul. My mom told me his work was on display in some cathedrals in Quebec and for some reason I remember one of churches name as being St Anne de Beaupre`. At the front of the class I recall being extremely proud of my heritage and to be able to tell the class that my grandfather was a craftsman who had done work in a famous Catholic church.

At the time I did not know that Noel Lemay had actually been a friend of Brother Andre` that they hung around together as friends do. Little was ever said of this friendship. Can you imagine how proud I would have been to tell my class that my grandfather knew Brother Andre`! My recollections of my grandpa are not of a man overly involved in religious activities. As I recall he attended church every Sunday as most good Catholics do, but there was not an overwhelming religious spirit in the house, I am trying to recall if they said grace before their meals, they may have but of this I am unsure. I have seen photos of their living rooms and I see crucifixes on the walls here and there. For many, their faith is held within and that may be the case of the Lemay family who were from Garthby Quebec in the townships. There were thirteen children in all, including my mother Gisele. It must have been an enormous task feeding and providing a roof and clothing for that many children. There would not be much left over for a beer at the end of the week. Though one of my fond memories of grandpa is the time we were staying at his house and before dinner one night he took us fishing on one of the many bridges in Montreal. We got to the spot and he took us to the bridge and got us set up and left Alex and I alone to fish while he went into a Tavern to have a few beers, I suppose having a look for our safety every now and then. It was dark when we got home and we were tired out, just boys of eight and nine.

From time to time I think of the small miracles that have taken place in my own life. The time a car on Brownville Avenue hit me as I errantly ran across the street to deliver the Mt Dennis Newsweekly. I remember getting up off the ground and running all the way home! The police came and saw that I was OK, there were no obvious injuries, dad chided me for not telling them I had been hit by a car. Was that a miracle? Another time, it must have been a miracle when my friend Ken Goobie and I had taken a car for a test ride one rainy afternoon. In a rush on our way back to the dealership me at the wheel, I rolled the car down the embankment of the being built Weston Road cloverleaf that is part of Highway 401. After several mid air turns the car landed plomp on the side of the road, cars speeding by, we escaped up the hill and hid until it was safe. Was that a miracle? One time I was washing down a big foam fire extinguisher system at the Ferranti Packard plant and a wet rag I was using touched the overhead crane that was supposed to have been turned off from power, electricity flowed through me for a bit, as I looked down over the paint vat twenty feet below that had steel spikes protruding upwards, if I had lost grip and fallen, I would have drowned in a vat of rustproofing paint if the fall did not kill me! Was that a miracle? One time a few years later in our hippie days, we were broke, tired of eating peanut butter on crackers, me and a friend headed down town we were going to steal a purse, something I had never done, but we were desperate, we got the little Morris Minor into a nice neighbourhood where there were sure to be old ladies coming from church with their purses held loosely, we drove around these streets, I remember this like yesterday, it was near Eglinton and Yonge and we had spotted someone who we were following, looking for the right spot for my friend to jump out and grab the purse when suddenly the car made this odd mechanical sound, as if a wrench had been thrown into the motor, it scared the shit out of me, we continued till we caught up to our potential client and the same noise happened, as if a spirit from somewhere, another dimension had intentionally prevented the car from going forward, I’ll never forget, it was as if my poor old dead dad was up in heaven and he was watching us and he intervened! Was that a miracle? The time in Windsor when Pete Kalci and I had subleased an apartment for the school year. I woke up in a sweat, this thing, this spirit was inside my chest, I could feel it and I woke up and there was Pete simultaneously waking up in the cupboard we converted into a bedroom for him and he said, “I just had a wet dream, I never have wet dreams!” Was that a miracle?

Using my own examples of miracles I have tried to set the stage for the miracle that my grandpa witnessed one day in Montreal. I know this story as it was told to my Uncle George in 1946 by Noel Lemay. In fact Noel took George to the St Josephs Oratory and showed him the very place where the miracle took place. Now, this is an easier story to accept if you have faith. My Uncle George was a good person a serious Catholic in that he obeyed the Ten Commandments and you can bet that every Sunday of his life since childhood he would have attended Mass on Sundays and observed all the religious ideals of the church at that time. I can’t imagine how exalted he would have been to have been with my grandpa that night they went to the Oratory. George it turns out was in Montreal to act as the best man for my father Alexander Gregory who had gotten our mother in a mothers way. It’s odd to discuss this fact today at my age. I don’t think any of the six Gregory children new that Alex Junior had been procreated prior to the sacred act of matrimony. I really was unaware of this till a few years ago when we saw the civil marriage certificate of my mother and father. It didn’t change a thing, though it would certainly have affected the lives of my mother and father, both Catholics. I suppose it became one of those family secrets that people were prone to keep.

Brother Andre` led an interesting life, He prayed to St Joseph the father of Jesus. He was a sickly boy and I gather that the church took him in when both his parents died. Initially they gave him the job of church porter, cleaning the facility and opening the door when necessary, we are going back to the early 1900s. At some point people with medical issues began to come and see him at the Notre Dame school and he would tell them to pray to St Joseph to help them. Well, they did and many were appreciative, they would make donations to the church. In time, so many were coming after hearing of the miracles that the church built a nice hut for him to meet his followers at the tram stop below the grounds of St Josephs. More healing miracles took place, word spread. The church decided to build a proper building for the people to come and pray and visit Brother Andre` and get his blessing this was in 1904. The first chapel was a humble place, built by friends of Brother Andre` and volunteers but it was all that was needed. As the word of the miracles of healing spread amongst the Quebec population it became necessary to extend the chapel four more times in 1909 in 1910 and 1912 and then again in 1918. It was during one of these expansions that the miracle my grandfather witnessed occurred. I have to assume that Brother Andre` became the ‘Headliner’ at the property that was about to grow in leaps and bounds on Mount Royal. Besides all the canes and walking sticks and braces that were left behind after the healings, one can only think that the collection boxes were situated in prime locations to gather the coppers and dimes and folding money to help the church exist. How else were the expansions done. Though we know through looking at the church archives that many a person honoured their church with sweat and tears as the newer bigger buildings went up as did the reputation of Brother Andre`.

My Uncle George relays the story on a video recorded by his son in law. He says that my grandfather and Brother Andre` were friends. I have tried to confirm this with the living sons of Noel Lemay as this just was not discussed at my family dining table. It may be that I was not paying attention. But it may also be that the incident took place so long ago that only a few view it as a significant phenomenon. What happened would have taken place between the years 1904 and 1918 during that busy time when the first chapel was built and the subsequent expansions and relocation in 1918. Brother Andre` and grandpa Lemay were having a walk one evening when the two of them came across this immense excavation where the chapel was going to be moved to. It is guess work on my part but lets say the hole was twenty feet by thirty feet and twenty feet deep. Brother Andre` wanted to see the rest of the excavation and he floated to the other side of the hole levitating above the ground twenty feet below, a summer wind blew his frock about, when he got to the other side, he looked over to where my grandfather was and said, “come Noel, follow me, you will be safe, don’t worry, I will take care of you.” My grandfather was astonished at what he was seeing, a man floating in the air, but he had not the courage to follow Brother Andre` across the excavation.

There is no doubt that Brother Andre` was a person able to heal. His numerous examples of healing were such that a great church was built, a church that today overlooks the city of Montreal and the deeds associated with Brother Andre` continue to marvel all that come into it and to provide a great degree of pride for Catholics all over the world. I don’t know if this recollection was ever presented to the church authorities at any time and if it were what would it accomplish. For a man like Brother Andre` who was responsible for many miracles another one like walking on air would hardly raise a stir. My Uncle George passed in 2010. On his person, in his wallet was a reliquary bought at St Josephs Oratory, in a tiny worn leather satchel/pouch a few inches square, there is a picture of Brother Andre` and a piece of cloth said to have touched one of his frocks, such was my Uncles faith.

At one time in the sixties a criminal element snuck in to the grand cathedral and stole the heart of Brother Andre` that was on display. A ransom of fifty thousand dollars was demanded but never paid to the crooks. Almost two years went by before the heart was found in the basement of a home in Montreal, not harmed in any way. The church was quick to reinstate it in the Oratory for all to see, even in death Brother Andre` was the Main Attraction.

As in Boston and other North American cities scandals of priestly paedophilia also rocked the foundations of the Order to which Brother Andre` belonged, sums upwards of twenty million were ordered to be paid to those who had been abused.

Originally conceived by British Leyland, the Metro was built to similar principals as those of the Mini it was intended to replace, with a small, practical platform with as much use available to the passenger as was possible. The car came under various initial guises, including the Austin Metro, the Austin miniMetro, the Morris Metro van and the MG Metro, a version of the car with a 1.3L A-Series Turbo Engine.

Although the car was launched in 1980, development of a Mini replacement had dated back to the beginning of the 70's. Dubbed ADO88 (Amalgamated Drawing Office project number 88), the Metro was eventually given the go ahead in 1977, but wanted to have the appeal of some of the larger 'Supermini' (what a contradiction in terms) cars on the market, including cars such as the Ford Fiesta and the Renault 5. Designed by Harris Mann (the same guy who gave us the Princess and the Allegro), the car was given a much more angular body for the time, but despite its futuristic looks did share many features of the earlier Mini, including the 675cc BMC-A Series engine that dated back to 1959, and the gearbox. Initial cars also included the Hydragas Suspension system originally used on the Allegro and the Princess, though with no front/rear connection. The car was also built as a hatchback, which would eventually be a key part of its success as the Mini instead utilised only a small boot.

The Metro was originally meant for an earlier 1978 launch, but a lack of funds and near bankruptcy of British Leyland resulted in the car's launch being pushed back. This delay however did allow the folks at Longbridge to construct a £200m robotic assembly plant for the new Metro line, with the hope of building 100,000 cars per year. Finally the car entered sales 3 years late and got off to quite promising initial sales, often being credited for being the saviour of British Leyland. The Metro was in fact the company's first truly new model in nearly 5 years, with the 9 year old Allegro still in production, the 1980 Morris Ital being nothing more than a 7 year old Marina with a new face, and the 5 year old Princess not going anywhere!

As mentioned, an entire myriad of versions came with the Metro, including the luxury Vanden Plas version and the sporty MG with its top speed of 105mph and 0-60mph of 10.1 seconds. Eventually the original incarnation of the car, the Austin Metro, went on to sell 1 million units in it's initial 10 year run, making it the second highest selling car of the decade behind the Ford Escort. However, like most other British Leyland products, earlier cars got a bad reputation for poor build quality and unreliability, combined with the lack of rustproofing that was notorious on many BL cars of the time.

The show was not over however, as in 1990 the car was given a facelift and dubbed the Rover Metro. The 1950's A-Series engine was replaced by a 1.1L K-Series, and the angular bodyshell was rounded to similar principals as those by acclaimed styling house Ital to create a more pleasing look for the 90's. This facelift, combined with an improvement in reliability and build quality, meant that the car went on to win the 'What Car?' of the Year Award in 1991.

In 1994 the car was given yet another facelift, with once again a more rounded design and removal of the Metro name, the car being sold as the Rover 100. Engines were once again changed, this time to a 1.5L Peugeot engine and more audacious colour schemes were available for the even more rounded design of the new car. However, the car was very much starting to look and feel its age. Aside from the fact that the design dated back to 1977, the new car was not well equipped, lacking electric windows, anti-lock brakes, power steering, or even a rev counter! In terms of safety, it was very basic, with most features such as airbags, an alarm, an immobiliser and central locking being optional extras.

Eventually the curtain had to fall on the Metro, and in 1997, twenty years after the initial design left the drawing board, it was announced that the car would be discontinued. Spurred on by dwindling sales due to lack of safety and equipment, as well as losing out to comparative cars such as the ever popular Ford Fiesta, VW Polo and Vauxhall Corsa, with only fuel economy keeping the car afloat, Rover axed the Metro in 1998 with no direct replacement, although many cite the downsized Rover 200 a possible contender. Stumbling blindly on, the next car to fill the gap in Rover's market was the 2003 CityRover, based on the TATA Indica, which flopped abysmally and pretty much totalled the company (but that's another story).

In the end only 2,078,000 Metro's were built in comparison to the 5.3 million examples of the Mini that it was meant to replace. The main failings of the Metro were down to the fact that the car was too big compared to the Mini, and the rounded old-world charm of the Coopers and Clubmans was replaced by the angular corners. Because of this the car simply didn't have the novelty that the Mini continued to claim even 20 years after the first ones left the factory, and the Mini would even go on to outlive the Metro by another 2 years, ending production in 2000, then going on to have a revival in the form of BMW's New Mini Cooper that's still being built today. Unlike the Mini, the Metro also failed to conquer the international market in the same way, scoring its 2 million units pretty much in Britain alone, although some cars were sold in France and Spain, but only to the total of a few hundred.

The Metro however survived only on fuel economy and its spacious interior, but by the early 1990's, whilst other car manufacturers had moved on leaps and bounds, Rover continued to be stuck in the past with not the money or the enthusiasm to change what was a terribly outdated and extremely basic car. Towards the end the Metro, which had only a few years earlier won awards for its practical nature, was ending up on lists for Worst car on the market.

Today however you can still see Metro's, later editions are especially common on the roads of Britain. Earlier models built under British Leyland have mostly rusted away and are apparently only down to about a thousand nowadays, but the Rover 100's and Rover Metros continue to ply their trade, a lonely reminder of how here in Britain, we can never ever seem to move on! :S

The GAZ M21 Volga, the first car to carry the Volga name, was developed in the early 1950s. Volgas were built to last in the harsh climate and rough roads of the Soviet Union, with high ground clearance (what gives it a specific "high" look, contrary to "low-long-sleek" look of American cars of resembling design), rugged suspension, strong and forgiving engine, and rustproofing on a scale unheard of in the 1950s.

My husband found the hawk feather on a walk - just had to scan it and have a play. Kits used - Anita's Rustic and Rustproof. Hawk from Pixabay.

Originally conceived by British Leyland, the Metro was built to similar principals as those of the Mini it was intended to replace, with a small, practical platform with as much use available to the passenger as was possible. The car came under various initial guises, including the Austin Metro, the Austin miniMetro, the Morris Metro van and the MG Metro, a version of the car with a 1.3L A-Series Turbo Engine.

Although the car was launched in 1980, development of a Mini replacement had dated back to the beginning of the 70's. Dubbed ADO88 (Amalgamated Drawing Office project number 88), the Metro was eventually given the go ahead in 1977, but wanted to have the appeal of some of the larger 'Supermini' (what a contradiction in terms) cars on the market, including cars such as the Ford Fiesta and the Renault 5. Designed by Harris Mann (the same guy who gave us the Princess and the Allegro), the car was given a much more angular body for the time, but despite its futuristic looks did share many features of the earlier Mini, including the 675cc BMC-A Series engine that dated back to 1959, and the gearbox. Initial cars also included the Hydragas Suspension system originally used on the Allegro and the Princess, though with no front/rear connection. The car was also built as a hatchback, which would eventually be a key part of its success as the Mini instead utilised only a small boot.

The Metro was originally meant for an earlier 1978 launch, but a lack of funds and near bankruptcy of British Leyland resulted in the car's launch being pushed back. This delay however did allow the folks at Longbridge to construct a £200m robotic assembly plant for the new Metro line, with the hope of building 100,000 cars per year. Finally the car entered sales 3 years late and got off to quite promising initial sales, often being credited for being the saviour of British Leyland. The Metro was in fact the company's first truly new model in nearly 5 years, with the 9 year old Allegro still in production, the 1980 Morris Ital being nothing more than a 7 year old Marina with a new face, and the 5 year old Princess not going anywhere!

As mentioned, an entire myriad of versions came with the Metro, including the luxury Vanden Plas version and the sporty MG with its top speed of 105mph and 0-60mph of 10.1 seconds. Eventually the original incarnation of the car, the Austin Metro, went on to sell 1 million units in it's initial 10 year run, making it the second highest selling car of the decade behind the Ford Escort. However, like most other British Leyland products, earlier cars got a bad reputation for poor build quality and unreliability, combined with the lack of rustproofing that was notorious on many BL cars of the time.

The show was not over however, as in 1990 the car was given a facelift and dubbed the Rover Metro. The 1950's A-Series engine was replaced by a 1.1L K-Series, and the angular bodyshell was rounded to similar principals as those by acclaimed styling house Ital to create a more pleasing look for the 90's. This facelift, combined with an improvement in reliability and build quality, meant that the car went on to win the 'What Car?' of the Year Award in 1991.

In 1994 the car was given yet another facelift, with once again a more rounded design and removal of the Metro name, the car being sold as the Rover 100. Engines were once again changed, this time to a 1.5L Peugeot engine and more audacious colour schemes were available for the even more rounded design of the new car. However, the car was very much starting to look and feel its age. Aside from the fact that the design dated back to 1977, the new car was not well equipped, lacking electric windows, anti-lock brakes, power steering, or even a rev counter! In terms of safety, it was very basic, with most features such as airbags, an alarm, an immobiliser and central locking being optional extras.

Eventually the curtain had to fall on the Metro, and in 1997, twenty years after the initial design left the drawing board, it was announced that the car would be discontinued. Spurred on by dwindling sales due to lack of safety and equipment, as well as losing out to comparative cars such as the ever popular Ford Fiesta, VW Polo and Vauxhall Corsa, with only fuel economy keeping the car afloat, Rover axed the Metro in 1998 with no direct replacement, although many cite the downsized Rover 200 a possible contender. Stumbling blindly on, the next car to fill the gap in Rover's market was the 2003 CityRover, based on the TATA Indica, which flopped abysmally and pretty much totalled the company (but that's another story).

In the end only 2,078,000 Metro's were built in comparison to the 5.3 million examples of the Mini that it was meant to replace. The main failings of the Metro were down to the fact that the car was too big compared to the Mini, and the rounded old-world charm of the Coopers and Clubmans was replaced by the angular corners. Because of this the car simply didn't have the novelty that the Mini continued to claim even 20 years after the first ones left the factory, and the Mini would even go on to outlive the Metro by another 2 years, ending production in 2000, then going on to have a revival in the form of BMW's New Mini Cooper that's still being built today. Unlike the Mini, the Metro also failed to conquer the international market in the same way, scoring its 2 million units pretty much in Britain alone, although some cars were sold in France and Spain, but only to the total of a few hundred.

The Metro however survived only on fuel economy and its spacious interior, but by the early 1990's, whilst other car manufacturers had moved on leaps and bounds, Rover continued to be stuck in the past with not the money or the enthusiasm to change what was a terribly outdated and extremely basic car. Towards the end the Metro, which had only a few years earlier won awards for its practical nature, was ending up on lists for Worst car on the market.

Today however you can still see Metro's, later editions are especially common on the roads of Britain. Earlier models built under British Leyland have mostly rusted away and are apparently only down to about a thousand nowadays, but the Rover 100's and Rover Metros continue to ply their trade, a lonely reminder of how here in Britain, we can never ever seem to move on!

Originally conceived by British Leyland, the Metro was built to similar principals as those of the Mini it was intended to replace, with a small, practical platform with as much use available to the passenger as was possible. The car came under various initial guises, including the Austin Metro, the Austin miniMetro, the Morris Metro van and the MG Metro, a version of the car with a 1.3L A-Series Turbo Engine.

Although the car was launched in 1980, development of a Mini replacement had dated back to the beginning of the 70's. Dubbed ADO88 (Amalgamated Drawing Office project number 88), the Metro was eventually given the go ahead in 1977, but wanted to have the appeal of some of the larger 'Supermini' (what a contradiction in terms) cars on the market, including cars such as the Ford Fiesta and the Renault 5. Designed by Harris Mann (the same guy who gave us the Princess and the Allegro), the car was given a much more angular body for the time, but despite its futuristic looks did share many features of the earlier Mini, including the 675cc BMC-A Series engine that dated back to 1959, and the gearbox. Initial cars also included the Hydragas Suspension system originally used on the Allegro and the Princess, though with no front/rear connection. The car was also built as a hatchback, which would eventually be a key part of its success as the Mini instead utilised only a small boot.

The Metro was originally meant for an earlier 1978 launch, but a lack of funds and near bankruptcy of British Leyland resulted in the car's launch being pushed back. This delay however did allow the folks at Longbridge to construct a £200m robotic assembly plant for the new Metro line, with the hope of building 100,000 cars per year. Finally the car entered sales 3 years late and got off to quite promising initial sales, often being credited for being the saviour of British Leyland. The Metro was in fact the company's first truly new model in nearly 5 years, with the 9 year old Allegro still in production, the 1980 Morris Ital being nothing more than a 7 year old Marina with a new face, and the 5 year old Princess not going anywhere!

As mentioned, an entire myriad of versions came with the Metro, including the luxury Vanden Plas version and the sporty MG with its top speed of 105mph and 0-60mph of 10.1 seconds. Eventually the original incarnation of the car, the Austin Metro, went on to sell 1 million units in it's initial 10 year run, making it the second highest selling car of the decade behind the Ford Escort. However, like most other British Leyland products, earlier cars got a bad reputation for poor build quality and unreliability, combined with the lack of rustproofing that was notorious on many BL cars of the time.

The show was not over however, as in 1990 the car was given a facelift and dubbed the Rover Metro. The 1950's A-Series engine was replaced by a 1.1L K-Series, and the angular bodyshell was rounded to similar principals as those by acclaimed styling house Ital to create a more pleasing look for the 90's. This facelift, combined with an improvement in reliability and build quality, meant that the car went on to win the 'What Car?' of the Year Award in 1991.

In 1994 the car was given yet another facelift, with once again a more rounded design and removal of the Metro name, the car being sold as the Rover 100. Engines were once again changed, this time to a 1.5L Peugeot engine and more audacious colour schemes were available for the even more rounded design of the new car. However, the car was very much starting to look and feel its age. Aside from the fact that the design dated back to 1977, the new car was not well equipped, lacking electric windows, anti-lock brakes, power steering, or even a rev counter! In terms of safety, it was very basic, with most features such as airbags, an alarm, an immobiliser and central locking being optional extras.

Eventually the curtain had to fall on the Metro, and in 1997, twenty years after the initial design left the drawing board, it was announced that the car would be discontinued. Spurred on by dwindling sales due to lack of safety and equipment, as well as losing out to comparative cars such as the ever popular Ford Fiesta, VW Polo and Vauxhall Corsa, with only fuel economy keeping the car afloat, Rover axed the Metro in 1998 with no direct replacement, although many cite the downsized Rover 200 a possible contender. Stumbling blindly on, the next car to fill the gap in Rover's market was the 2003 CityRover, based on the TATA Indica, which flopped abysmally and pretty much totalled the company (but that's another story).

In the end only 2,078,000 Metro's were built in comparison to the 5.3 million examples of the Mini that it was meant to replace. The main failings of the Metro were down to the fact that the car was too big compared to the Mini, and the rounded old-world charm of the Coopers and Clubmans was replaced by the angular corners. Because of this the car simply didn't have the novelty that the Mini continued to claim even 20 years after the first ones left the factory, and the Mini would even go on to outlive the Metro by another 2 years, ending production in 2000, then going on to have a revival in the form of BMW's New Mini Cooper that's still being built today. Unlike the Mini, the Metro also failed to conquer the international market in the same way, scoring its 2 million units pretty much in Britain alone, although some cars were sold in France and Spain, but only to the total of a few hundred.

The Metro however survived only on fuel economy and its spacious interior, but by the early 1990's, whilst other car manufacturers had moved on leaps and bounds, Rover continued to be stuck in the past with not the money or the enthusiasm to change what was a terribly outdated and extremely basic car. Towards the end the Metro, which had only a few years earlier won awards for its practical nature, was ending up on lists for Worst car on the market.

Today however you can still see Metro's, later editions are especially common on the roads of Britain. Earlier models built under British Leyland have mostly rusted away and are apparently only down to about a thousand nowadays, but the Rover 100's and Rover Metros continue to ply their trade, a lonely reminder of how here in Britain, we can never ever seem to move on!

Some pictures from a Heuliez publication showing the production of the Citroen BX Break that they built in the mid eighties.

Although not as famous, or in this case infamous, as the Austin Allegro, the Morris Marina has often been placed as a contender for worst car ever made ever, a point I find very confusing when you really think about it. I've heard so many people at car shows mention how it was the bane of the British motor industry, how it set us back 20 years and was such a massive failure that it made the Allegro look like a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow in comparison!

But is it true? Is the Morris Marina, that car we all know and love for the various onslaught of spontaneous piano drops, really the most awful thing to come out of Britain's automotive history?

The Morris Marina was launched in 1971, and immediately inundated with problems, largely because of what it was replacing, that symbolic and beautiful piece of post-war British design, the Morris Minor of 1948. The 23 year old design had long passed its sell-by date, and the Marina was meant to be the superb next step for the 1970's. The design and styling was done by Roy Haynes, famous also for the facelifted Mini Clubman and the Ford Cortina, and externally the car was, dare I say, quite handsome. I know, shock horror, but despite being considered repugnant by many, I honestly believe the Marina doesn't actually look that bad, following what appeared to be a design staple of its time with the Hillman Avenger, the Vauxhall Viva and the Ford Escort sharing very similar bodyshapes.

But styling was the least of the Marina's problems, as in a bid to get the car into production in 18 months, the hashed together design was based almost entirely on the Morris Minor it was built to replace. Essentially, underneath the new 1970's body, the Morris Marina is nothing more than another Minor, sharing a majority of parts including the suspension, with some models being powered by the BMC A-Series engine from the Mini. In fact many people cannibalized Morris Marina's back in the 1980's and 90's so as to keep their various Morris Minor projects alive due to the high parts compatibility.

Nevertheless, 18 months of development (in spite of the recommended 32) later, the car hit the showrooms on the 27th March, 1971, and was made available across the Commonwealth under a variety of badges during its production life, including the Leyland Marina in Australia, the Austin Marina in North America, and the Morris 1700 in New Zealand. It was also available in a selection of trim tabs, including a 4-door saloon, a 2-door Coupé, a camper variant, a panel van and as a pickup truck.

Much like the Allegro, the Marina did sell well initially, being the 2nd highest selling car in the UK behind the Ford Cortina in 1973, but was not without major public issues to begin with.

During initial reviews the poorly put together press cars suffered from terrible suspension trouble which resulted in the cars finding it near impossible to take corners. Although this problem was later rectified, 39,000 cars still went out with this original poor suspension without recall to fix these issues.

But after the initial design faults came to light, the production quality faults were the next issue. Much like the Allegro, during strike periods, strike cars left the factories with major components missing, or pieces of trim not in place or not functioning properly, or suffered heavily from malfunctions, be they mechanically or electronically. At the same time the sheer lack of rustproofing on these cars meant that showing them a damp cloth would result in the bare metal brown of death appearing in more places than one.

Even so, the car did continue to sell, and achieve the goal of being basic, simple motoring for the masses despite all its faults, and remained in production until it was replaced by a facelifted version that would become synonymous with lazy ideas.

In 1980, the nine year old Marina was given a new look dubbed the Ital, a name obviously spun to try and draw in the masses for people who thought that this car had been designed by the same people who gave us the Maserati Merak, the Alfasud, the DeLorean and the Lotus Esprit. In fact the truth of the matter is the Morris Ital was a lie in its name, as ItalDesign had only been asked by British Leyland to provide creative consultancy to the company during development. Although Ital did take a look, the final product was the brainchild of Harris Mann, BL's chief engineer who had been known for other strange concoctions like the Triumph TR7, the Princess and the Allegro. Not all blame can fall on Harris Mann though, by God I'm sure he tried, indeed many of his preliminary designs for the Allegro and the Princess looked magnificently space-age, but after some watering down by the folks at British Leyland head office, these things were very much less than stellar.

Other than that though, the Morris Ital, for all intents and purposes, was exactly the same as the Marina that preceded it, same running gear, same door panels, same dashboard, same everything, except this time it had big chunky headlights and tail-lights. In fact you could say that the Morris Ital internally dated back to 1948, seeing as a majority of its internal parts were simply handed down from the Minor! Reliability hadn't improved much and the car was still very basic in terms of equipment. From its launch in 1980 the car was sold as a pickup truck, a van, and a 5-door family estate, although plans for a Sport Coupé were ultimately scrapped. Some cars were also produced in Portugal at the British Leyland factory in Setubal, with these cars being outshopped with 1950's B-Series engines that gave the dizzying power output of 37hp!

Sales however were reasonable, largely due to its low price and running costs, but its reliability and build quality left a lot to be desired. Eventually only 175,000 cars were produced by the time production ended in 1984, the car being replaced by the new Austin Maestro and Montego. The Ital however does have the distinction of being the last production car to wear the Morris badge as after this no other cars were given this name, although this was briefly placed on the Morris Metro van. The Ital did, for some very strange reason, gain a revival in 1998, when the First Auto Works Group of Sichuan province, China, started building the cars again as the Huandu CAC6430 until the closure of the factory in 1999, another very obscure revival of a British Leyland product, but oddly enough 15 years after the last Itals were built!

Today both Marina's and Ital's are near impossible to come by. Of the 809,000 Marina's built, only 670 remain on the roads, whilst of the 175,000 Ital's sold, only 174 continue to exist. As mentioned, most Ital's and Marina's were taken apart as spares donors for the older and far more popular Morris Minor, seeing as a majority of their parts they shared. This is not helped by the running gag on the BBC car show Top Gear, where whenever a Marina appears on the show it is destroyed by a randomly falling Piano dropped by the helicopter Piano haulage company 'Careless Airways'.

But either way, despite all its criticism, I personally don't think the Marina is as bad a car as the world gives it credit for. Even the Ital I'll give some credit as a form of basic motoring, and from some angles it does look quite handsome. Sure it's basic, not well equipped, slow, unreliable and prone to rusting, but as a small family car that ambles about the countryside, it's not as bad as some obscure Eastern Block models, and even today holds a place in the hearts of many as either a happy-go-lucky little runabout, or a cautionary tale of how not to build a car.

A fantastic original example of a 1976-1979 Mk4 Cortina, which is now the rarest Cortina generation, due to a shorter production run, popularity with banger racers, and poor rustproofing.

You couldn't get anymore 70s than beige with a brown vinyl roof!

The vehicle details for GLU 566T are:

Date of Liability 01 03 2014

Date of First Registration 13 07 1979

Year of Manufacture 1979

Cylinder Capacity (cc) 1593cc

CO₂ Emissions Not Available

Fuel Type PETROL

Export Marker N

Vehicle Status Licence Not Due

Vehicle Colour BEIGE

Originally conceived by British Leyland, the Metro was built to similar principals as those of the Mini it was intended to replace, with a small, practical platform with as much use available to the passenger as was possible. The car came under various initial guises, including the Austin Metro, the Austin miniMetro, the Morris Metro van and the MG Metro, a version of the car with a 1.3L A-Series Turbo Engine.

Although the car was launched in 1980, development of a Mini replacement had dated back to the beginning of the 70's. Dubbed ADO88 (Amalgamated Drawing Office project number 88), the Metro was eventually given the go ahead in 1977, but wanted to have the appeal of some of the larger 'Supermini' (what a contradiction in terms) cars on the market, including cars such as the Ford Fiesta and the Renault 5. Designed by Harris Mann (the same guy who gave us the Princess and the Allegro), the car was given a much more angular body for the time, but despite its futuristic looks did share many features of the earlier Mini, including the 675cc BMC-A Series engine that dated back to 1959, and the gearbox. Initial cars also included the Hydragas Suspension system originally used on the Allegro and the Princess, though with no front/rear connection. The car was also built as a hatchback, which would eventually be a key part of its success as the Mini instead utilised only a small boot.

The Metro was originally meant for an earlier 1978 launch, but a lack of funds and near bankruptcy of British Leyland resulted in the car's launch being pushed back. This delay however did allow the folks at Longbridge to construct a £200m robotic assembly plant for the new Metro line, with the hope of building 100,000 cars per year. Finally the car entered sales 3 years late and got off to quite promising initial sales, often being credited for being the saviour of British Leyland. The Metro was in fact the company's first truly new model in nearly 5 years, with the 9 year old Allegro still in production, the 1980 Morris Ital being nothing more than a 7 year old Marina with a new face, and the 5 year old Princess not going anywhere!

As mentioned, an entire myriad of versions came with the Metro, including the luxury Vanden Plas version and the sporty MG with its top speed of 105mph and 0-60mph of 10.1 seconds. Eventually the original incarnation of the car, the Austin Metro, went on to sell 1 million units in it's initial 10 year run, making it the second highest selling car of the decade behind the Ford Escort. However, like most other British Leyland products, earlier cars got a bad reputation for poor build quality and unreliability, combined with the lack of rustproofing that was notorious on many BL cars of the time.

The show was not over however, as in 1990 the car was given a facelift and dubbed the Rover Metro. The 1950's A-Series engine was replaced by a 1.1L K-Series, and the angular bodyshell was rounded to similar principals as those by acclaimed styling house Ital to create a more pleasing look for the 90's. This facelift, combined with an improvement in reliability and build quality, meant that the car went on to win the 'What Car?' of the Year Award in 1991.

In 1994 the car was given yet another facelift, with once again a more rounded design and removal of the Metro name, the car being sold as the Rover 100. Engines were once again changed, this time to a 1.5L Peugeot engine and more audacious colour schemes were available for the even more rounded design of the new car. However, the car was very much starting to look and feel its age. Aside from the fact that the design dated back to 1977, the new car was not well equipped, lacking electric windows, anti-lock brakes, power steering, or even a rev counter! In terms of safety, it was very basic, with most features such as airbags, an alarm, an immobiliser and central locking being optional extras.

Eventually the curtain had to fall on the Metro, and in 1997, twenty years after the initial design left the drawing board, it was announced that the car would be discontinued. Spurred on by dwindling sales due to lack of safety and equipment, as well as losing out to comparative cars such as the ever popular Ford Fiesta, VW Polo and Vauxhall Corsa, with only fuel economy keeping the car afloat, Rover axed the Metro in 1998 with no direct replacement, although many cite the downsized Rover 200 a possible contender. Stumbling blindly on, the next car to fill the gap in Rover's market was the 2003 CityRover, based on the TATA Indica, which flopped abysmally and pretty much totalled the company (but that's another story).

In the end only 2,078,000 Metro's were built in comparison to the 5.3 million examples of the Mini that it was meant to replace. The main failings of the Metro were down to the fact that the car was too big compared to the Mini, and the rounded old-world charm of the Coopers and Clubmans was replaced by the angular corners. Because of this the car simply didn't have the novelty that the Mini continued to claim even 20 years after the first ones left the factory, and the Mini would even go on to outlive the Metro by another 2 years, ending production in 2000, then going on to have a revival in the form of BMW's New Mini Cooper that's still being built today. Unlike the Mini, the Metro also failed to conquer the international market in the same way, scoring its 2 million units pretty much in Britain alone, although some cars were sold in France and Spain, but only to the total of a few hundred.

The Metro however survived only on fuel economy and its spacious interior, but by the early 1990's, whilst other car manufacturers had moved on leaps and bounds, Rover continued to be stuck in the past with not the money or the enthusiasm to change what was a terribly outdated and extremely basic car. Towards the end the Metro, which had only a few years earlier won awards for its practical nature, was ending up on lists for Worst car on the market.

Today however you can still see Metro's, later editions are especially common on the roads of Britain. Earlier models built under British Leyland have mostly rusted away and are apparently only down to about a thousand nowadays, but the Rover 100's and Rover Metros continue to ply their trade, a lonely reminder of how here in Britain, we can never ever seem to move on!

Some pictures from a Heuliez publication showing the production of the Citroen BX Break that they built in the mid eighties.

Here you can see the BCA sticker. I can't read what the blue sticker says as it's very sun-scorched, but on the other side of the screen there was a yellow Ziebart rustproofing sticker. I don't think this green colour was available on NZ assembled Allegros, which is why it immediately stood out to me (apart from the fact it was an Allegro!)

A 1985 Toyota MR2, 1983 Mazda 323 and 1985 Nissan Sunny, parked near Roncalli College, Timaru.

Here in New Zealand, Japanese cars started becoming commonplace in the 1970s, and by the 1980s dominated the marketplace. Unfortunately, a number of the earlier 1970s models were renowned for rust, hence most have now disappeared.

From the early 1980s onwards however, rustproofing had improved greatly on Japanese models sold here, hence 1980s models in general tended to have a longer lifespan than their 1970s counterparts.

Well, you're looking very proud Mr. Marina...

Ah, the Morris Marina, the woeful shame that sent the British car industry 20 years back, the poorly designed waste that failed to achieve any of the most basic goals set by car builders, a machine that has become a by-word for failure and a symbol for terrible workmanship and everything that was wrong with British industry in the 1970's, and nowadays known better for being cannon-fodder for an onslaught of spontaneous piano drops...

But much like the Austin Allegro, is it really as bad as all that?

The Morris Marina was launched in 1971 by British Leyland to replace the 23 year old Morris Minor. Designed by Roy Haynes, the Marina, despite being considered repugnant by many, doesn't actually look that bad, in some cases it's better than the Allegro. It was very much a design staple of its time, with the Hillman Avenger, the Vauxhall Viva and the Ford Escort sharing very similar bodyshapes.

But the problems came with its other developments. The car may have had a new body, but underneath it was just another Morris Minor, sharing a majority of parts including the suspension, with some models being powered by the BMC A-Series engine from the Mini.

Nevertheless, the car was launched in 1971 after only 18 months of development, and was made available across the Commonwealth under a variety of badges, including the Leyland Marina in Australia, the Austin Marina in North America, and the Morris 1700 in New Zealand. It was also available in a selection of trim tabs, including a 4-door saloon, a 2-door coupé, a camper variant and as a pickup truck.

Much like the Allegro, the Marina did sell well initially, being the 2nd highest selling car in the UK behind the Ford Cortina in 1973, but was not without major public issues to begin with.

During initial reviews the poorly put together press cars suffered from terrible suspension trouble which resulted in the cars finding it near impossible to take corners. Although this problem was later rectified, 39,000 cars still went out with this original poor suspension without recall to fix these issues.

But after the initial design faults came to light, the production quality faults were the next issue. Much like the Allegro, during strike periods, strike cars left the factories with major components missing, or pieces of trim not in place or not functioning properly, or suffered heavily from malfunctions, be they mechanically or electronically. At the same time the sheer lack of rustproofing on these cars meant that showing them a damp cloth would result in the bare metal brown of death appearing in more places than one.

Even so, the car did continue to sell, and achieve the goal of being basic, simple motoring for the masses despite all its faults, and remained in production for 9 years until it was replaced by a facelifted version known as the Ital in 1980. Although the Ital also sold well for its 4 year production life, the legacy of its forebears was still enough to tarnish its reputation, mixed with a less than stellar body design.

Today both Marina's and Ital's are near impossible to come by. Of the 809,000 Marina's built, only 670 remain on the roads, whilst of the 175,000 Ital's sold, only 174 continue to exist.

This is not helped by the running gag on the BBC car show Top Gear, where whenever a Marina appears on the show it is destroyed by a randomly falling piano dropped by the helicopter piano haulage company 'Careless Airways'.

But either way, despite all its criticism, I personally don't think the Marina is as bad a car as the world gives it credit for. Sure it's basic, not well equipped, slow, unreliable and prone to rusting, but as a small family car that ambles about the countryside, it's not as bad as some obscure Eastern Block models, and even today holds a place in the hearts of many as either a happy-go-lucky little runabout, or a cautionary tale of how not to build a car.

PHILIPPINE RABBIT BUS LINES 1

Bus Number: 7093

Bus engine: Hino RF

Bus body: Del Monte/ Columbian

Seater: 50-60+

Classification: Ordinary Fare

Seating Classification: 2x3x50 or 60

Route: Laoag/ Vigan/ Abra (Bangued)- Avenida

Additional Information: Ito po yung sinasabi ko na currently rehabilitated units ng PRBL with the matching jumping rabbits sa livery which I like so much. I guess mas okey itong livery na ito kung sa AC Nissan Diesel UD Euro edition. Ito rin po yung hinalintulad sa Philtranco Cargo Series na Man ang makina na kulay red ang livery. Sa loob po eh wala halos pinag-iba sa dating interior niya except wala po itong back seat na diretso, after ng dulong silya eh may guard rail that separates the passenger area to the cargo bay. Yung Cargo bay is as is na pinag-alisan ng mga silya kayalang malinis. Walang trace ng dating pinaglagyan ng silya. Pwede talaga ang in bulk na cargo dito!

Date taken: April 23, 2007

Place taken: Town Plaza, Bangar, La Union

Time taken: 05:21pm

Some pictures from a Heuliez publication showing the production of the Citroen BX Break that they built in the mid eighties.

Originally conceived by British Leyland, the Metro was built to similar principals as those of the Mini it was intended to replace, with a small, practical platform with as much use available to the passenger as was possible. The car came under various initial guises, including the Austin Metro, the Austin miniMetro, the Morris Metro van and the MG Metro, a version of the car with a 1.3L A-Series Turbo Engine.

Although the car was launched in 1980, development of a Mini replacement had dated back to the beginning of the 70's. Dubbed ADO88 (Amalgamated Drawing Office project number 88), the Metro was eventually given the go ahead in 1977, but wanted to have the appeal of some of the larger 'Supermini' (what a contradiction in terms) cars on the market, including cars such as the Ford Fiesta and the Renault 5. Designed by Harris Mann (the same guy who gave us the Princess and the Allegro), the car was given a much more angular body for the time, but despite its futuristic looks did share many features of the earlier Mini, including the 675cc BMC-A Series engine that dated back to 1959, and the gearbox. Initial cars also included the Hydragas Suspension system originally used on the Allegro and the Princess, though with no front/rear connection. The car was also built as a hatchback, which would eventually be a key part of its success as the Mini instead utilised only a small boot.

The Metro was originally meant for an earlier 1978 launch, but a lack of funds and near bankruptcy of British Leyland resulted in the car's launch being pushed back. This delay however did allow the folks at Longbridge to construct a £200m robotic assembly plant for the new Metro line, with the hope of building 100,000 cars per year. Finally the car entered sales 3 years late and got off to quite promising initial sales, often being credited for being the saviour of British Leyland. The Metro was in fact the company's first truly new model in nearly 5 years, with the 9 year old Allegro still in production, the 1980 Morris Ital being nothing more than a 7 year old Marina with a new face, and the 5 year old Princess not going anywhere!

As mentioned, an entire myriad of versions came with the Metro, including the luxury Vanden Plas version and the sporty MG with its top speed of 105mph and 0-60mph of 10.1 seconds. Eventually the original incarnation of the car, the Austin Metro, went on to sell 1 million units in it's initial 10 year run, making it the second highest selling car of the decade behind the Ford Escort. However, like most other British Leyland products, earlier cars got a bad reputation for poor build quality and unreliability, combined with the lack of rustproofing that was notorious on many BL cars of the time.

The show was not over however, as in 1990 the car was given a facelift and dubbed the Rover Metro. The 1950's A-Series engine was replaced by a 1.1L K-Series, and the angular bodyshell was rounded to similar principals as those by acclaimed styling house Ital to create a more pleasing look for the 90's. This facelift, combined with an improvement in reliability and build quality, meant that the car went on to win the 'What Car?' of the Year Award in 1991.

In 1994 the car was given yet another facelift, with once again a more rounded design and removal of the Metro name, the car being sold as the Rover 100. Engines were once again changed, this time to a 1.5L Peugeot engine and more audacious colour schemes were available for the even more rounded design of the new car. However, the car was very much starting to look and feel its age. Aside from the fact that the design dated back to 1977, the new car was not well equipped, lacking electric windows, anti-lock brakes, power steering, or even a rev counter! In terms of safety, it was very basic, with most features such as airbags, an alarm, an immobiliser and central locking being optional extras.

Eventually the curtain had to fall on the Metro, and in 1997, twenty years after the initial design left the drawing board, it was announced that the car would be discontinued. Spurred on by dwindling sales due to lack of safety and equipment, as well as losing out to comparative cars such as the ever popular Ford Fiesta, VW Polo and Vauxhall Corsa, with only fuel economy keeping the car afloat, Rover axed the Metro in 1998 with no direct replacement, although many cite the downsized Rover 200 a possible contender. Stumbling blindly on, the next car to fill the gap in Rover's market was the 2003 CityRover, based on the TATA Indica, which flopped abysmally and pretty much totalled the company (but that's another story).

In the end only 2,078,000 Metro's were built in comparison to the 5.3 million examples of the Mini that it was meant to replace. The main failings of the Metro were down to the fact that the car was too big compared to the Mini, and the rounded old-world charm of the Coopers and Clubmans was replaced by the angular corners. Because of this the car simply didn't have the novelty that the Mini continued to claim even 20 years after the first ones left the factory, and the Mini would even go on to outlive the Metro by another 2 years, ending production in 2000, then going on to have a revival in the form of BMW's New Mini Cooper that's still being built today. Unlike the Mini, the Metro also failed to conquer the international market in the same way, scoring its 2 million units pretty much in Britain alone, although some cars were sold in France and Spain, but only to the total of a few hundred.

The Metro however survived only on fuel economy and its spacious interior, but by the early 1990's, whilst other car manufacturers had moved on leaps and bounds, Rover continued to be stuck in the past with not the money or the enthusiasm to change what was a terribly outdated and extremely basic car. Towards the end the Metro, which had only a few years earlier won awards for its practical nature, was ending up on lists for Worst car on the market.

Today however you can still see Metro's, later editions are especially common on the roads of Britain. Earlier models built under British Leyland have mostly rusted away and are apparently only down to about a thousand nowadays, but the Rover 100's and Rover Metros continue to ply their trade, a lonely reminder of how here in Britain, we can never ever seem to move on!

I asked her to blow a fireball over my head.... so she did.

Camera is rustproof ever since. Didn't expect that, I always thought the fluid they use was very volatile but it seems to be plain lamp-oil.

Still trying to work on my photo-skills concerning fireballs like this. It is very hard to get the light well. Are there any firebreathers out there to let me have a try to get the right fireball capture??

Great to see this, I can remember the adverts for it in car mags when I was a kid, and my dad used this stuff to "rustproof" the Citroen Visa that we had, not that it did any good at the end of the day, as the car still rusted very badly.

It was a messy day in Toronto with the weather alternating between snow, rain, and freezing rain. It wasn’t a great day to be on the streets but it was a good day to pay a visit to my friends and former coworkers. I didn’t expect to be doing any photography, but that changed when I saw this man from behind while approaching the subway station. Actually, it was his hat I saw from behind, and it intrigued me. When I saw him entering the same subway station as I, I made up my mind to get ahead of him and then approach him (trying to avoid my “ambush the subject from behind approach). He seemed surprised by my speaking to him out of the blue (well, out of the grey today) but listened with obvious interest and said “Sure.” Meet Herman.

I checked that he wasn’t in a rush and he said “Any other day of the week I would have had to say ‘Sorry, but I’m in a hurry to get to work.’ Not today. The garage is closed. Sure, I’ve got some time.” Excellent. Herman accompanied me out onto the streetcar/bus platform where I’ve made a few photos in the past, despite the hustle and bustle of commuters. Herman was amused that I had noticed his hat. “You will tell people that you saw the coolest hat in Toronto, right?” Definitely. The story behind the hat is that he was without a hat on a -36 C day and his ears were bleeding form the cold. A friend had this extra hat and gave it to him which he really appreciated. As I prepared to take the photo, he suddenly asked me to wait a moment and he undid the tie for the ear flaps. “It looks better this way” he said.

Herman was 6’7” tall and I had to hold my camera up high and use the “live view” on the display instead of the electronic viewfinder. Otherwise I would have been looking up at him from below. After taking a few photos with slight variations in framing, I realized I’d not given adequate emphasis to The Hat. Herman turned around with his back to me and shot me the Peace sign and I got the photo. I told him I liked the shot and then he clowned a bit more, shooting me with a finger-gun. We were having fun as the commuters walked around us.

As it turned out, Herman was going to be taking the westbound subway that I was taking so we agreed to travel together for a bit and had a friendly chat as we waited for the train and on the train. Herman is 31 and was born in Nova Scotia, one of Canada’s Maritime Provinces. He’s been in Toronto for 16 years. “What brought you to Toronto?” I asked. “I had to get away from my parents” he said. I suspected abuse and he said “Yes. I try to find creative ways of expressing it. Let’s say my home experience was ‘disturbingly pornographic.’” I told him I had worked with many sexual abuse survivors during my career as a Social Worker and was aware of the awful impact it can have. He said overcoming that and overcoming his addictive personality were major challenges but life is better now. As he put it “When you’re used to misery, you’re going to grab at anything which makes you feel better but that’s no solution.” When I asked what helped him the most in moving forward from that difficult past he said “Coming to Toronto and finally meeting nice people who treated me in a healthy way.”

Herman is licensed as a swing stage operator and works on the exterior of highrise buildings in the summer months as a painter. He likes the work because of the solitude. When I told him of my own lack of comfort with heights he said “It’s only the first three floors that are hard. If you fall from that height you’re going to break you limbs, your back, and your neck. I couldn’t live as a cripple. Above that height, if you fall you don’t have to worry about anything: It’s game over.” Well, that’s one way of looking at it. He said licensed swing stage operators are a somewhat small group. “It’s hard to maintain the license because they give spot inspections without notice and if you make the slightest mistake, you can forget your license.” I pointed out that it is wise of the government to oversee things because it’s for everyone’s protection. Herman said “True. Usually I don’t like pencil-necks and pencil-pushers, but these guys I respect. They have an important role.”

In the winter he works in a garage detailing and washing cars and applying rustproofing. “We’re closed today because of the weather but I have to go in anyway to get my boots. I left them there but today I really need them.” No kidding.

About being asked to participate in my photo project he said with a smile “Conversation with strangers is a lost art now. When you approached me, I welcomed it. A message to share through the project? “The Universe is inevitably going to hurt you. Try not to take it personally.” When I asked if anything he had shared was off-limits for my project story he said “No man. I’m an open book. If anything I’ve said could possibly help someone else, that would really make my day.” Herman’s subway stop came and we parted with a handshake and he wished me luck with my project. I wished him luck with life.

Thanks, Herman. I’m glad I approached you. Meeting you was enjoyable and I think your story could prove inspirational for someone who reads it at The Human Family on Flickr.

This is my 179th submission to The Human Family Group on Flickr.

You can view more street portraits and stories by visiting The Human Family.

Outlines of the previous owner's badges just visible on the grille.

It sits very high at the front, exaggerated by that black paint on the bottom of the valance. I think that was applied when it was rustproofed new, but I'd like to remove it. And I do want to lower the front a touch.

Some pictures from a Heuliez publication showing the production of the Citroen BX Break that they built in the mid eighties.

Although not as famous, or in this case infamous, as the Austin Allegro, the Morris Marina has often been placed as a contender for worst car ever made ever, a point I find very confusing when you really think about it. I've heard so many people at car shows mention how it was the bane of the British motor industry, how it set us back 20 years and was such a massive failure that it made the Allegro look like a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow in comparison!

But is it true? Is the Morris Marina, that car we all know and love for the various onslaught of spontaneous piano drops, really the most awful thing to come out of Britain's automotive history?

The Morris Marina was launched in 1971, and immediately inundated with problems, largely because of what it was replacing, that symbolic and beautiful piece of post-war British design, the Morris Minor of 1948. The 23 year old design had long passed its sell-by date, and the Marina was meant to be the superb next step for the 1970's. The design and styling was done by Roy Haynes, famous also for the facelifted Mini Clubman and the Ford Cortina, and externally the car was, dare I say, quite handsome. I know, shock horror, but despite being considered repugnant by many, I honestly believe the Marina doesn't actually look that bad, following what appeared to be a design staple of its time with the Hillman Avenger, the Vauxhall Viva and the Ford Escort sharing very similar bodyshapes.

But styling was the least of the Marina's problems, as in a bid to get the car into production in 18 months, the hashed together design was based almost entirely on the Morris Minor it was built to replace. Essentially, underneath the new 1970's body, the Morris Marina is nothing more than another Minor, sharing a majority of parts including the suspension, with some models being powered by the BMC A-Series engine from the Mini. In fact many people cannibalized Morris Marina's back in the 1980's and 90's so as to keep their various Morris Minor projects alive due to the high parts compatibility.

Nevertheless, 18 months of development (in spite of the recommended 32) later, the car hit the showrooms on the 27th March, 1971, and was made available across the Commonwealth under a variety of badges during its production life, including the Leyland Marina in Australia, the Austin Marina in North America, and the Morris 1700 in New Zealand. It was also available in a selection of trim tabs, including a 4-door saloon, a 2-door Coupé, a camper variant, a panel van and as a pickup truck.

Much like the Allegro, the Marina did sell well initially, being the 2nd highest selling car in the UK behind the Ford Cortina in 1973, but was not without major public issues to begin with.

During initial reviews the poorly put together press cars suffered from terrible suspension trouble which resulted in the cars finding it near impossible to take corners. Although this problem was later rectified, 39,000 cars still went out with this original poor suspension without recall to fix these issues.

But after the initial design faults came to light, the production quality faults were the next issue. Much like the Allegro, during strike periods, strike cars left the factories with major components missing, or pieces of trim not in place or not functioning properly, or suffered heavily from malfunctions, be they mechanically or electronically. At the same time the sheer lack of rustproofing on these cars meant that showing them a damp cloth would result in the bare metal brown of death appearing in more places than one.

Even so, the car did continue to sell, and achieve the goal of being basic, simple motoring for the masses despite all its faults, and remained in production until it was replaced by a facelifted version that would become synonymous with lazy ideas.

In 1980, the nine year old Marina was given a new look dubbed the Ital, a name obviously spun to try and draw in the masses for people who thought that this car had been designed by the same people who gave us the Maserati Merak, the Alfasud, the DeLorean and the Lotus Esprit. In fact the truth of the matter is the Morris Ital was a lie in its name, as ItalDesign had only been asked by British Leyland to provide creative consultancy to the company during development. Although Ital did take a look, the final product was the brainchild of Harris Mann, BL's chief engineer who had been known for other strange concoctions like the Triumph TR7, the Princess and the Allegro. Not all blame can fall on Harris Mann though, by God I'm sure he tried, indeed many of his preliminary designs for the Allegro and the Princess looked magnificently space-age, but after some watering down by the folks at British Leyland head office, these things were very much less than stellar.

Other than that though, the Morris Ital, for all intents and purposes, was exactly the same as the Marina that preceded it, same running gear, same door panels, same dashboard, same everything, except this time it had big chunky headlights and tail-lights. In fact you could say that the Morris Ital internally dated back to 1948, seeing as a majority of its internal parts were simply handed down from the Minor! Reliability hadn't improved much and the car was still very basic in terms of equipment. From its launch in 1980 the car was sold as a pickup truck, a van, and a 5-door family estate, although plans for a Sport Coupé were ultimately scrapped. Some cars were also produced in Portugal at the British Leyland factory in Setubal, with these cars being outshopped with 1950's B-Series engines that gave the dizzying power output of 37hp!

Sales however were reasonable, largely due to its low price and running costs, but its reliability and build quality left a lot to be desired. Eventually only 175,000 cars were produced by the time production ended in 1984, the car being replaced by the new Austin Maestro and Montego. The Ital however does have the distinction of being the last production car to wear the Morris badge as after this no other cars were given this name, although this was briefly placed on the Morris Metro van. The Ital did, for some very strange reason, gain a revival in 1998, when the First Auto Works Group of Sichuan province, China, started building the cars again as the Huandu CAC6430 until the closure of the factory in 1999, another very obscure revival of a British Leyland product, but oddly enough 15 years after the last Itals were built!

Today both Marina's and Ital's are near impossible to come by. Of the 809,000 Marina's built, only 670 remain on the roads, whilst of the 175,000 Ital's sold, only 174 continue to exist. As mentioned, most Ital's and Marina's were taken apart as spares donors for the older and far more popular Morris Minor, seeing as a majority of their parts they shared. This is not helped by the running gag on the BBC car show Top Gear, where whenever a Marina appears on the show it is destroyed by a randomly falling Piano dropped by the helicopter Piano haulage company 'Careless Airways'.

But either way, despite all its criticism, I personally don't think the Marina is as bad a car as the world gives it credit for. Even the Ital I'll give some credit as a form of basic motoring, and from some angles it does look quite handsome. Sure it's basic, not well equipped, slow, unreliable and prone to rusting, but as a small family car that ambles about the countryside, it's not as bad as some obscure Eastern Block models, and even today holds a place in the hearts of many as either a happy-go-lucky little runabout, or a cautionary tale of how not to build a car.

Alumilux

The Water Heater of Rustproof Aluminum

Date: 1958

Source Type: Postcard

Publisher, Printer, Photographer: Dexter Press

Postmark: None

Collection: Steven R. Shook

Remark: Alumilux - CLAYTON & LAMBERT'S

NEW ALUMINUM WATER HEATER.

* More hot water per hour!

* Two temperature water optional -- 180 degrees for appliances, lower for general use!

* No rods! No rust!

* Gas OR electric!

* Highest Recovery!

* Lowest per gallon cost!

Copyright 2010. Some rights reserved. The associated text may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Steven R. Shook.

Originally conceived by British Leyland, the Metro was built to similar principals as those of the Mini it was intended to replace, with a small, practical platform with as much use available to the passenger as was possible. The car came under various initial guises, including the Austin Metro, the Austin miniMetro, the Morris Metro van and the MG Metro, a version of the car with a 1.3L A-Series Turbo Engine.

Although the car was launched in 1980, development of a Mini replacement had dated back to the beginning of the 70's. Dubbed ADO88 (Amalgamated Drawing Office project number 88), the Metro was eventually given the go ahead in 1977, but wanted to have the appeal of some of the larger 'Supermini' (what a contradiction in terms) cars on the market, including cars such as the Ford Fiesta and the Renault 5. Designed by Harris Mann (the same guy who gave us the Princess and the Allegro), the car was given a much more angular body for the time, but despite its futuristic looks did share many features of the earlier Mini, including the 675cc BMC-A Series engine that dated back to 1959, and the gearbox. Initial cars also included the Hydragas Suspension system originally used on the Allegro and the Princess, though with no front/rear connection. The car was also built as a hatchback, which would eventually be a key part of its success as the Mini instead utilised only a small boot.

The Metro was originally meant for an earlier 1978 launch, but a lack of funds and near bankruptcy of British Leyland resulted in the car's launch being pushed back. This delay however did allow the folks at Longbridge to construct a £200m robotic assembly plant for the new Metro line, with the hope of building 100,000 cars per year. Finally the car entered sales 3 years late and got off to quite promising initial sales, often being credited for being the saviour of British Leyland. The Metro was in fact the company's first truly new model in nearly 5 years, with the 9 year old Allegro still in production, the 1980 Morris Ital being nothing more than a 7 year old Marina with a new face, and the 5 year old Princess not going anywhere!

As mentioned, an entire myriad of versions came with the Metro, including the luxury Vanden Plas version and the sporty MG with its top speed of 105mph and 0-60mph of 10.1 seconds. Eventually the original incarnation of the car, the Austin Metro, went on to sell 1 million units in it's initial 10 year run, making it the second highest selling car of the decade behind the Ford Escort. However, like most other British Leyland products, earlier cars got a bad reputation for poor build quality and unreliability, combined with the lack of rustproofing that was notorious on many BL cars of the time.

The show was not over however, as in 1990 the car was given a facelift and dubbed the Rover Metro. The 1950's A-Series engine was replaced by a 1.1L K-Series, and the angular bodyshell was rounded to similar principals as those by acclaimed styling house Ital to create a more pleasing look for the 90's. This facelift, combined with an improvement in reliability and build quality, meant that the car went on to win the 'What Car?' of the Year Award in 1991.

In 1994 the car was given yet another facelift, with once again a more rounded design and removal of the Metro name, the car being sold as the Rover 100. Engines were once again changed, this time to a 1.5L Peugeot engine and more audacious colour schemes were available for the even more rounded design of the new car. However, the car was very much starting to look and feel its age. Aside from the fact that the design dated back to 1977, the new car was not well equipped, lacking electric windows, anti-lock brakes, power steering, or even a rev counter! In terms of safety, it was very basic, with most features such as airbags, an alarm, an immobiliser and central locking being optional extras.

Eventually the curtain had to fall on the Metro, and in 1997, twenty years after the initial design left the drawing board, it was announced that the car would be discontinued. Spurred on by dwindling sales due to lack of safety and equipment, as well as losing out to comparative cars such as the ever popular Ford Fiesta, VW Polo and Vauxhall Corsa, with only fuel economy keeping the car afloat, Rover axed the Metro in 1998 with no direct replacement, although many cite the downsized Rover 200 a possible contender. Stumbling blindly on, the next car to fill the gap in Rover's market was the 2003 CityRover, based on the TATA Indica, which flopped abysmally and pretty much totalled the company (but that's another story).

In the end only 2,078,000 Metro's were built in comparison to the 5.3 million examples of the Mini that it was meant to replace. The main failings of the Metro were down to the fact that the car was too big compared to the Mini, and the rounded old-world charm of the Coopers and Clubmans was replaced by the angular corners. Because of this the car simply didn't have the novelty that the Mini continued to claim even 20 years after the first ones left the factory, and the Mini would even go on to outlive the Metro by another 2 years, ending production in 2000, then going on to have a revival in the form of BMW's New Mini Cooper that's still being built today. Unlike the Mini, the Metro also failed to conquer the international market in the same way, scoring its 2 million units pretty much in Britain alone, although some cars were sold in France and Spain, but only to the total of a few hundred.

The Metro however survived only on fuel economy and its spacious interior, but by the early 1990's, whilst other car manufacturers had moved on leaps and bounds, Rover continued to be stuck in the past with not the money or the enthusiasm to change what was a terribly outdated and extremely basic car. Towards the end the Metro, which had only a few years earlier won awards for its practical nature, was ending up on lists for Worst car on the market.

Today however you can still see Metro's, later editions are especially common on the roads of Britain. Earlier models built under British Leyland have mostly rusted away and are apparently only down to about a thousand nowadays, but the Rover 100's and Rover Metros continue to ply their trade, a lonely reminder of how here in Britain, we can never ever seem to move on!

Although not as famous, or in this case infamous, as the Austin Allegro, the Morris Marina has often been placed as a contender for worst car ever made ever, a point I find very confusing when you really think about it. I've heard so many people at car shows mention how it was the bane of the British motor industry, how it set us back 20 years and was such a massive failure that it made the Allegro look like a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow in comparison!

But is it true? Is the Morris Marina, that car we all know and love for the various onslaught of spontaneous piano drops, really the most awful thing to come out of Britain's automotive history?

The Morris Marina was launched in 1971, and immediately inundated with problems, largely because of what it was replacing, that symbolic and beautiful piece of post-war British design, the Morris Minor of 1948. The 23 year old design had long passed its sell-by date, and the Marina was meant to be the superb next step for the 1970's. The design and styling was done by Roy Haynes, famous also for the facelifted Mini Clubman and the Ford Cortina, and externally the car was, dare I say, quite handsome. I know, shock horror, but despite being considered repugnant by many, I honestly believe the Marina doesn't actually look that bad, following what appeared to be a design staple of its time with the Hillman Avenger, the Vauxhall Viva and the Ford Escort sharing very similar bodyshapes.

But styling was the least of the Marina's problems, as in a bid to get the car into production in 18 months, the hashed together design was based almost entirely on the Morris Minor it was built to replace. Essentially, underneath the new 1970's body, the Morris Marina is nothing more than another Minor, sharing a majority of parts including the suspension, with some models being powered by the BMC A-Series engine from the Mini. In fact many people cannibalized Morris Marina's back in the 1980's and 90's so as to keep their various Morris Minor projects alive due to the high parts compatibility.

Nevertheless, 18 months of development (in spite of the recommended 32) later, the car hit the showrooms on the 27th March, 1971, and was made available across the Commonwealth under a variety of badges during its production life, including the Leyland Marina in Australia, the Austin Marina in North America, and the Morris 1700 in New Zealand. It was also available in a selection of trim tabs, including a 4-door saloon, a 2-door Coupé, a camper variant, a panel van and as a pickup truck.

Much like the Allegro, the Marina did sell well initially, being the 2nd highest selling car in the UK behind the Ford Cortina in 1973, but was not without major public issues to begin with.

During initial reviews the poorly put together press cars suffered from terrible suspension trouble which resulted in the cars finding it near impossible to take corners. Although this problem was later rectified, 39,000 cars still went out with this original poor suspension without recall to fix these issues.

But after the initial design faults came to light, the production quality faults were the next issue. Much like the Allegro, during strike periods, strike cars left the factories with major components missing, or pieces of trim not in place or not functioning properly, or suffered heavily from malfunctions, be they mechanically or electronically. At the same time the sheer lack of rustproofing on these cars meant that showing them a damp cloth would result in the bare metal brown of death appearing in more places than one.

Even so, the car did continue to sell, and achieve the goal of being basic, simple motoring for the masses despite all its faults, and remained in production until it was replaced by a facelifted version that would become synonymous with lazy ideas.

In 1980, the nine year old Marina was given a new look dubbed the Ital, a name obviously spun to try and draw in the masses for people who thought that this car had been designed by the same people who gave us the Maserati Merak, the Alfasud, the DeLorean and the Lotus Esprit. In fact the truth of the matter is the Morris Ital was a lie in its name, as ItalDesign had only been asked by British Leyland to provide creative consultancy to the company during development. Although Ital did take a look, the final product was the brainchild of Harris Mann, BL's chief engineer who had been known for other strange concoctions like the Triumph TR7, the Princess and the Allegro. Not all blame can fall on Harris Mann though, by God I'm sure he tried, indeed many of his preliminary designs for the Allegro and the Princess looked magnificently space-age, but after some watering down by the folks at British Leyland head office, these things were very much less than stellar.

Other than that though, the Morris Ital, for all intents and purposes, was exactly the same as the Marina that preceded it, same running gear, same door panels, same dashboard, same everything, except this time it had big chunky headlights and tail-lights. In fact you could say that the Morris Ital internally dated back to 1948, seeing as a majority of its internal parts were simply handed down from the Minor! Reliability hadn't improved much and the car was still very basic in terms of equipment. From its launch in 1980 the car was sold as a pickup truck, a van, and a 5-door family estate, although plans for a Sport Coupé were ultimately scrapped. Some cars were also produced in Portugal at the British Leyland factory in Setubal, with these cars being outshopped with 1950's B-Series engines that gave the dizzying power output of 37hp!

Sales however were reasonable, largely due to its low price and running costs, but its reliability and build quality left a lot to be desired. Eventually only 175,000 cars were produced by the time production ended in 1984, the car being replaced by the new Austin Maestro and Montego. The Ital however does have the distinction of being the last production car to wear the Morris badge as after this no other cars were given this name, although this was briefly placed on the Morris Metro van. The Ital did, for some very strange reason, gain a revival in 1998, when the First Auto Works Group of Sichuan province, China, started building the cars again as the Huandu CAC6430 until the closure of the factory in 1999, another very obscure revival of a British Leyland product, but oddly enough 15 years after the last Itals were built!

Today both Marina's and Ital's are near impossible to come by. Of the 809,000 Marina's built, only 670 remain on the roads, whilst of the 175,000 Ital's sold, only 174 continue to exist. As mentioned, most Ital's and Marina's were taken apart as spares donors for the older and far more popular Morris Minor, seeing as a majority of their parts they shared. This is not helped by the running gag on the BBC car show Top Gear, where whenever a Marina appears on the show it is destroyed by a randomly falling Piano dropped by the helicopter Piano haulage company 'Careless Airways'.

But either way, despite all its criticism, I personally don't think the Marina is as bad a car as the world gives it credit for. Even the Ital I'll give some credit as a form of basic motoring, and from some angles it does look quite handsome. Sure it's basic, not well equipped, slow, unreliable and prone to rusting, but as a small family car that ambles about the countryside, it's not as bad as some obscure Eastern Block models, and even today holds a place in the hearts of many as either a happy-go-lucky little runabout, or a cautionary tale of how not to build a car.

One of the longest running Citroen products and replacement for the legendary DS, the Citroen CX was a worthy continuation of the groundbreaking developments that made its predecessor such a household name, and was able to mix a spacious interior with incredible comfort and all the panache and style you'd expect from a French family car.

The car was designed and styled by Robert Opron, and took on many external features from the previous DS, including a long sweeping body and smooth curved back. Internally the car updated the many endearing features of the original, with unique hydro-pneumatic integral self-leveling suspension, speed-adjustable DIRAVI power steering (first introduced on the Citroën SM), and a uniquely effective interior design that did away with steering column stalks, allowing the driver to reach all controls while both hands remained on the steering wheel.

The car was powered by a range of 2.0L to 2.5L Inline-4 Citroen engines, producing power outputs between 102hp and 141hp, whilst there was also a 180hp edition featuring SM Injection Electronique.

The car was rushed to launch in 1974, sadly resulting in many teething troubles such as a lack of power-steering, making the car very difficult to drive as 70% of its weight is carried over the front wheels. Originally, the CX was developed as a rotary-engined car, with several negative consequences. The CX engine bay is small because rotary engines are compact, but the Comotor three-rotor rotary engine was not economical and the entire rotary project was scrapped the year the CX was introduced. The firm went bankrupt in 1974, partly due a series of investments like Comotor that didn't result in profitable products.

Throughout its production life however, the company continued adding developments to the car, including a 128hp GTi edition in 1977, rustproofing and fully automatic transmission in 1981, and a new 2.5L Turbo-Diesel engine in 1984.

Although the car garnered a reputation for poor reliability at first, it was soon lauded as one of the best Citroens ever built, and a credible replacement for the legendary DS. By the late 1980's however the car's 15 year old design was now in deep water, and competition such as Audi's and Mercedes of the time were starting to damage the sales. As such, in May 1989, the replacement car, the Citroen XM, was launched, but suffered from poor reliability issues due to the electronic hydropneumatic suspension. As such, the CX Estate version remained in production until 1991 when both problems with the XM were rectified, and a later developed XM Break was released.

In total, 1.2 million of these cars were produced, and are widely considered to be the last great Citroen cars before Peugeot took control in 1976. However, many people forget this car as well as the XM that replaced it, most feeling a strong affection towards the original DS of the 1950's. The car did however make a comeback on Top Gear, as Jeremy Clarkson converted a CX into a gigantic block of flats that doubled as a Motorhome, only to be blown over in the wind and eventually be pushed off a cliff!

Originally conceived by British Leyland, the Metro was built to similar principals as those of the Mini it was intended to replace, with a small, practical platform with as much use available to the passenger as was possible. The car came under various initial guises, including the Austin Metro, the Austin miniMetro, the Morris Metro van and the MG Metro, a version of the car with a 1.3L A-Series Turbo Engine.

Although the car was launched in 1980, development of a Mini replacement had dated back to the beginning of the 70's. Dubbed ADO88 (Amalgamated Drawing Office project number 88), the Metro was eventually given the go ahead in 1977, but wanted to have the appeal of some of the larger 'Supermini' (what a contradiction in terms) cars on the market, including cars such as the Ford Fiesta and the Renault 5. Designed by Harris Mann (the same guy who gave us the Princess and the Allegro), the car was given a much more angular body for the time, but despite its futuristic looks did share many features of the earlier Mini, including the 675cc BMC-A Series engine that dated back to 1959, and the gearbox. Initial cars also included the Hydragas Suspension system originally used on the Allegro and the Princess, though with no front/rear connection. The car was also built as a hatchback, which would eventually be a key part of its success as the Mini instead utilised only a small boot.

The Metro was originally meant for an earlier 1978 launch, but a lack of funds and near bankruptcy of British Leyland resulted in the car's launch being pushed back. This delay however did allow the folks at Longbridge to construct a £200m robotic assembly plant for the new Metro line, with the hope of building 100,000 cars per year. Finally the car entered sales 3 years late and got off to quite promising initial sales, often being credited for being the saviour of British Leyland. The Metro was in fact the company's first truly new model in nearly 5 years, with the 9 year old Allegro still in production, the 1980 Morris Ital being nothing more than a 7 year old Marina with a new face, and the 5 year old Princess not going anywhere!

As mentioned, an entire myriad of versions came with the Metro, including the luxury Vanden Plas version and the sporty MG with its top speed of 105mph and 0-60mph of 10.1 seconds. Eventually the original incarnation of the car, the Austin Metro, went on to sell 1 million units in it's initial 10 year run, making it the second highest selling car of the decade behind the Ford Escort. However, like most other British Leyland products, earlier cars got a bad reputation for poor build quality and unreliability, combined with the lack of rustproofing that was notorious on many BL cars of the time.

The show was not over however, as in 1990 the car was given a facelift and dubbed the Rover Metro. The 1950's A-Series engine was replaced by a 1.1L K-Series, and the angular bodyshell was rounded to similar principals as those by acclaimed styling house Ital to create a more pleasing look for the 90's. This facelift, combined with an improvement in reliability and build quality, meant that the car went on to win the 'What Car?' of the Year Award in 1991.

In 1994 the car was given yet another facelift, with once again a more rounded design and removal of the Metro name, the car being sold as the Rover 100. Engines were once again changed, this time to a 1.5L Peugeot engine and more audacious colour schemes were available for the even more rounded design of the new car. However, the car was very much starting to look and feel its age. Aside from the fact that the design dated back to 1977, the new car was not well equipped, lacking electric windows, anti-lock brakes, power steering, or even a rev counter! In terms of safety, it was very basic, with most features such as airbags, an alarm, an immobiliser and central locking being optional extras.

Eventually the curtain had to fall on the Metro, and in 1997, twenty years after the initial design left the drawing board, it was announced that the car would be discontinued. Spurred on by dwindling sales due to lack of safety and equipment, as well as losing out to comparative cars such as the ever popular Ford Fiesta, VW Polo and Vauxhall Corsa, with only fuel economy keeping the car afloat, Rover axed the Metro in 1998 with no direct replacement, although many cite the downsized Rover 200 a possible contender. Stumbling blindly on, the next car to fill the gap in Rover's market was the 2003 CityRover, based on the TATA Indica, which flopped abysmally and pretty much totalled the company (but that's another story).

In the end only 2,078,000 Metro's were built in comparison to the 5.3 million examples of the Mini that it was meant to replace. The main failings of the Metro were down to the fact that the car was too big compared to the Mini, and the rounded old-world charm of the Coopers and Clubmans was replaced by the angular corners. Because of this the car simply didn't have the novelty that the Mini continued to claim even 20 years after the first ones left the factory, and the Mini would even go on to outlive the Metro by another 2 years, ending production in 2000, then going on to have a revival in the form of BMW's New Mini Cooper that's still being built today. Unlike the Mini, the Metro also failed to conquer the international market in the same way, scoring its 2 million units pretty much in Britain alone, although some cars were sold in France and Spain, but only to the total of a few hundred.

The Metro however survived only on fuel economy and its spacious interior, but by the early 1990's, whilst other car manufacturers had moved on leaps and bounds, Rover continued to be stuck in the past with not the money or the enthusiasm to change what was a terribly outdated and extremely basic car. Towards the end the Metro, which had only a few years earlier won awards for its practical nature, was ending up on lists for Worst car on the market.

Today however you can still see Metro's, later editions are especially common on the roads of Britain. Earlier models built under British Leyland have mostly rusted away and are apparently only down to about a thousand nowadays, but the Rover 100's and Rover Metros continue to ply their trade, a lonely reminder of how here in Britain, we can never ever seem to move on!

1979 Ford Escort 1.6 Ghia 4-door.

Supplied by Hensmans of Brentwood (Ford).

Price new (with Strato Silver paint, passenger door mirror, rustproofing and mudflaps) was £3622.31.

1979 Datsun 620 Diesel Flatdeck Pickup

The Datsun (later Nissan) has been a typical Kiwi workhorse, whether it be on the farm, or in town industry. Here in New Zealand, the lack of salt on roads in wintertime, combined with the reliability of Japanese mechanicals, and the better rustproofing on vehicles from around 1982 onwards has meant that many of these 1/2 and one-tonne utes from the late 1970s and 1980s, particularly from Toyota, Nissan, Mazda and Mitsubishi have lived long lives in their intended tasks, often being with the same owners for 20 years or more.

Interestingly, to the left is another vehicle with a habit for longevity in New Zealand, the Nissan Pulsar N12 (Aka Cherry). One can further spot various 1980s and 1990s cars in the background, this being many years after they were built.

Spotted at Oamaru, New Zealand.

One of the longest running Citroen products and replacement for the legendary DS, the Citroen CX was a worthy continuation of the groundbreaking developments that made its predecessor such a household name, and was able to mix a spacious interior with incredible comfort and all the panache and style you'd expect from a French family car.

The car was designed and styled by Robert Opron, and took on many external features from the previous DS, including a long sweeping body and smooth curved back. Internally the car updated the many endearing features of the original, with unique hydro-pneumatic integral self-leveling suspension, speed-adjustable DIRAVI power steering (first introduced on the Citroën SM), and a uniquely effective interior design that did away with steering column stalks, allowing the driver to reach all controls while both hands remained on the steering wheel.

The car was powered by a range of 2.0L to 2.5L Inline-4 Citroen engines, producing power outputs between 102hp and 141hp, whilst there was also a 180hp edition featuring SM Injection Electronique.

The car was rushed to launch in 1974, sadly resulting in many teething troubles such as a lack of power-steering, making the car very difficult to drive as 70% of its weight is carried over the front wheels. Originally, the CX was developed as a rotary-engined car, with several negative consequences. The CX engine bay is small because rotary engines are compact, but the Comotor three-rotor rotary engine was not economical and the entire rotary project was scrapped the year the CX was introduced. The firm went bankrupt in 1974, partly due a series of investments like Comotor that didn't result in profitable products.

Throughout its production life however, the company continued adding developments to the car, including a 128hp GTi edition in 1977, rustproofing and fully automatic transmission in 1981, and a new 2.5L Turbo-Diesel engine in 1984.

Although the car garnered a reputation for poor reliability at first, it was soon lauded as one of the best Citroens ever built, and a credible replacement for the legendary DS. By the late 1980's however the car's 15 year old design was now in deep water, and competition such as Audi's and Mercedes of the time were starting to damage the sales. As such, in May 1989, the replacement car, the Citroen XM, was launched, but suffered from poor reliability issues due to the electronic hydropneumatic suspension. As such, the CX Estate version remained in production until 1991 when both problems with the XM were rectified, and a later developed XM Break was released.

In total, 1.2 million of these cars were produced, and are widely considered to be the last great Citroen cars before Peugeot took control in 1976. However, many people forget this car as well as the XM that replaced it, most feeling a strong affection towards the original DS of the 1950's. The car did however make a comeback on Top Gear, as Jeremy Clarkson converted a CX into a gigantic block of flats that doubled as a Motorhome, only to be blown over in the wind and eventually be pushed off a cliff!

Ah, the Morris Marina, the woeful shame that sent the British car industry 20 years back, the poorly designed waste that failed to achieve any of the most basic goals set by car builders, a machine that has become a by-word for failure and a symbol for terrible workmanship and everything that was wrong with British industry in the 1970's, and nowadays known better for being cannon-fodder for an onslaught of spontaneous piano drops...

But much like the Austin Allegro, is it really as bad as all that?

The Morris Marina was launched in 1971 by British Leyland to replace the 23 year old Morris Minor. Designed by Roy Haynes, the Marina, despite being considered repugnant by many, doesn't actually look that bad, in some cases it's better than the Allegro. It was very much a design staple of its time, with the Hillman Avenger, the Vauxhall Viva and the Ford Escort sharing very similar bodyshapes.

But the problems came with its other developments. The car may have had a new body, but underneath it was just another Morris Minor, sharing a majority of parts including the suspension, with some models being powered by the BMC A-Series engine from the Mini.

Nevertheless, the car was launched in 1971 after only 18 months of development, and was made available across the Commonwealth under a variety of badges, including the Leyland Marina in Australia, the Austin Marina in North America, and the Morris 1700 in New Zealand. It was also available in a selection of trim tabs, including a 4-door saloon, a 2-door coupé, a camper variant and as a pickup truck.

Much like the Allegro, the Marina did sell well initially, being the 2nd highest selling car in the UK behind the Ford Cortina in 1973, but was not without major public issues to begin with.

During initial reviews the poorly put together press cars suffered from terrible suspension trouble which resulted in the cars finding it near impossible to take corners. Although this problem was later rectified, 39,000 cars still went out with this original poor suspension without recall to fix these issues.

But after the initial design faults came to light, the production quality faults were the next issue. Much like the Allegro, during strike periods, strike cars left the factories with major components missing, or pieces of trim not in place or not functioning properly, or suffered heavily from malfunctions, be they mechanically or electronically. At the same time the sheer lack of rustproofing on these cars meant that showing them a damp cloth would result in the bare metal brown of death appearing in more places than one.

Even so, the car did continue to sell, and achieve the goal of being basic, simple motoring for the masses despite all its faults, and remained in production for 9 years until it was replaced by a facelifted version known as the Ital in 1980. Although the Ital also sold well for its 4 year production life, the legacy of its forebears was still enough to tarnish its reputation, mixed with a less than stellar body design.

Today both Marina's and Ital's are near impossible to come by. Of the 809,000 Marina's built, only 670 remain on the roads, whilst of the 175,000 Ital's sold, only 174 continue to exist.

This is not helped by the running gag on the BBC car show Top Gear, where whenever a Marina appears on the show it is destroyed by a randomly falling piano dropped by the helicopter piano haulage company 'Careless Airways'.

But either way, despite all its criticism, I personally don't think the Marina is as bad a car as the world gives it credit for. Sure it's basic, not well equipped, slow, unreliable and prone to rusting, but as a small family car that ambles about the countryside, it's not as bad as some obscure Eastern Block models, and even today holds a place in the hearts of many as either a happy-go-lucky little runabout, or a cautionary tale of how not to build a car.

The very last of British Leyland's attempt to replicate the success of the Mini. Though the Metro did sell strong on the domestic market, it's ability to woo the international market like its predecessor was sadly not meant to be. Here is the very last Rover 100 Metro, signed by members of the production team as it left the Longbridge factory for the last time.

Originally conceived by British Leyland, the Metro was built to similar principals as those of the Mini it was intended to replace, with a small, practical platform with as much use available to the passenger as was possible. The car came under various initial guises, including the Austin Metro, the Austin miniMetro, the Morris Metro van and the MG Metro, a version of the car with a 1.3L A-Series Turbo Engine.

Although the car was launched in 1980, development of a Mini replacement had dated back to the beginning of the 70's. Dubbed ADO88 (Amalgamated Drawing Office project number 88), the Metro was eventually given the go ahead in 1977, but wanted to have the appeal of some of the larger 'Supermini' (what a contradiction in terms) cars on the market, including cars such as the Ford Fiesta and the Renault 5. Designed by Harris Mann (the same guy who gave us the Princess and the Allegro), the car was given a much more angular body for the time, but despite its futuristic looks did share many features of the earlier Mini, including the 675cc BMC-A Series engine that dated back to 1959, and the gearbox. Initial cars also included the Hydragas Suspension system originally used on the Allegro and the Princess, though with no front/rear connection. The car was also built as a hatchback, which would eventually be a key part of its success as the Mini instead utilised only a small boot.

The Metro was originally meant for an earlier 1978 launch, but a lack of funds and near bankruptcy of British Leyland resulted in the car's launch being pushed back. This delay however did allow the folks at Longbridge to construct a £200m robotic assembly plant for the new Metro line, with the hope of building 100,000 cars per year. Finally the car entered sales 3 years late and got off to quite promising initial sales, often being credited for being the saviour of British Leyland. The Metro was in fact the company's first truly new model in nearly 5 years, with the 9 year old Allegro still in production, the 1980 Morris Ital being nothing more than a 7 year old Marina with a new face, and the 5 year old Princess not going anywhere!

As mentioned, an entire myriad of versions came with the Metro, including the luxury Vanden Plas version and the sporty MG with its top speed of 105mph and 0-60mph of 10.1 seconds. Eventually the original incarnation of the car, the Austin Metro, went on to sell 1 million units in it's initial 10 year run, making it the second highest selling car of the decade behind the Ford Escort. However, like most other British Leyland products, earlier cars got a bad reputation for poor build quality and unreliability, combined with the lack of rustproofing that was notorious on many BL cars of the time.

The show was not over however, as in 1990 the car was given a facelift and dubbed the Rover Metro. The 1950's A-Series engine was replaced by a 1.1L K-Series, and the angular bodyshell was rounded to similar principals as those by acclaimed styling house Ital to create a more pleasing look for the 90's. This facelift, combined with an improvement in reliability and build quality, meant that the car went on to win the 'What Car?' of the Year Award in 1991.

In 1994 the car was given yet another facelift, with once again a more rounded design and removal of the Metro name, the car being sold as the Rover 100. Engines were once again changed, this time to a 1.5L Peugeot engine and more audacious colour schemes were available for the even more rounded design of the new car. However, the car was very much starting to look and feel its age. Aside from the fact that the design dated back to 1977, the new car was not well equipped, lacking electric windows, anti-lock brakes, power steering, or even a rev counter! In terms of safety, it was very basic, with most features such as airbags, an alarm, an immobiliser and central locking being optional extras.

Eventually the curtain had to fall on the Metro, and in 1997, twenty years after the initial design left the drawing board, it was announced that the car would be discontinued. Spurred on by dwindling sales due to lack of safety and equipment, as well as losing out to comparative cars such as the ever popular Ford Fiesta, VW Polo and Vauxhall Corsa, with only fuel economy keeping the car afloat, Rover axed the Metro in 1998 with no direct replacement, although many cite the downsized Rover 200 a possible contender. Stumbling blindly on, the next car to fill the gap in Rover's market was the 2003 CityRover, based on the TATA Indica, which flopped abysmally and pretty much totalled the company (but that's another story).

In the end only 2,078,000 Metro's were built in comparison to the 5.3 million examples of the Mini that it was meant to replace. The main failings of the Metro were down to the fact that the car was too big compared to the Mini, and the rounded old-world charm of the Coopers and Clubmans was replaced by the angular corners. Because of this the car simply didn't have the novelty that the Mini continued to claim even 20 years after the first ones left the factory, and the Mini would even go on to outlive the Metro by another 2 years, ending production in 2000, then going on to have a revival in the form of BMW's New Mini Cooper that's still being built today. Unlike the Mini, the Metro also failed to conquer the international market in the same way, scoring its 2 million units pretty much in Britain alone, although some cars were sold in France and Spain, but only to the total of a few hundred.

The Metro however survived only on fuel economy and its spacious interior, but by the early 1990's, whilst other car manufacturers had moved on leaps and bounds, Rover continued to be stuck in the past with not the money or the enthusiasm to change what was a terribly outdated and extremely basic car. Towards the end the Metro, which had only a few years earlier won awards for its practical nature, was ending up on lists for Worst car on the market.

Today however you can still see Metro's, later editions are especially common on the roads of Britain. Earlier models built under British Leyland have mostly rusted away and are apparently only down to about a thousand nowadays, but the Rover 100's and Rover Metros continue to ply their trade, a lonely reminder of how here in Britain, we can never ever seem to move on!

It was certainly an interesting day for the good old Marina's, with only a handful left on the roads I very much had my fill of the old British Leyland metal, together with an intruding Morris Ital pickup.

Ah, the Morris Marina, the woeful shame that sent the British car industry 20 years back, the poorly designed waste that failed to achieve any of the most basic goals set by car builders, a machine that has become a by-word for failure and a symbol for terrible workmanship and everything that was wrong with British industry in the 1970's, and nowadays known better for being cannon-fodder for an onslaught of spontaneous piano drops...

But much like the Austin Allegro, is it really as bad as all that?

The Morris Marina was launched in 1971 by British Leyland to replace the 23 year old Morris Minor. Designed by Roy Haynes, the Marina, despite being considered repugnant by many, doesn't actually look that bad, in some cases it's better than the Allegro. It was very much a design staple of its time, with the Hillman Avenger, the Vauxhall Viva and the Ford Escort sharing very similar bodyshapes.

But the problems came with its other developments. The car may have had a new body, but underneath it was just another Morris Minor, sharing a majority of parts including the suspension, with some models being powered by the BMC A-Series engine from the Mini.

Nevertheless, the car was launched in 1971 after only 18 months of development, and was made available across the Commonwealth under a variety of badges, including the Leyland Marina in Australia, the Austin Marina in North America, and the Morris 1700 in New Zealand. It was also available in a selection of trim tabs, including a 4-door saloon, a 2-door coupé, a camper variant and as a pickup truck.

Much like the Allegro, the Marina did sell well initially, being the 2nd highest selling car in the UK behind the Ford Cortina in 1973, but was not without major public issues to begin with.

During initial reviews the poorly put together press cars suffered from terrible suspension trouble which resulted in the cars finding it near impossible to take corners. Although this problem was later rectified, 39,000 cars still went out with this original poor suspension without recall to fix these issues.

But after the initial design faults came to light, the production quality faults were the next issue. Much like the Allegro, during strike periods, strike cars left the factories with major components missing, or pieces of trim not in place or not functioning properly, or suffered heavily from malfunctions, be they mechanically or electronically. At the same time the sheer lack of rustproofing on these cars meant that showing them a damp cloth would result in the bare metal brown of death appearing in more places than one.

Even so, the car did continue to sell, and achieve the goal of being basic, simple motoring for the masses despite all its faults, and remained in production for 9 years until it was replaced by a facelifted version known as the Ital in 1980. Although the Ital also sold well for its 4 year production life, the legacy of its forebears was still enough to tarnish its reputation, mixed with a less than stellar body design.

Today both Marina's and Ital's are near impossible to come by. Of the 809,000 Marina's built, only 670 remain on the roads, whilst of the 175,000 Ital's sold, only 174 continue to exist.

This is not helped by the running gag on the BBC car show Top Gear, where whenever a Marina appears on the show it is destroyed by a randomly falling piano dropped by the helicopter piano haulage company 'Careless Airways'.

But either way, despite all its criticism, I personally don't think the Marina is as bad a car as the world gives it credit for. Sure it's basic, not well equipped, slow, unreliable and prone to rusting, but as a small family car that ambles about the countryside, it's not as bad as some obscure Eastern Block models, and even today holds a place in the hearts of many as either a happy-go-lucky little runabout, or a cautionary tale of how not to build a car.

These were lovely little cars. The slightly more sporting version of the BMC 1100 and later 1300. As a design they were far more advanced than anything being offered by other British or European manufacturers at the time. If only they could have built them better, with some rustproofing, and made a decent profit selling them, then BMC/British Leyland might still be around!

The GAZ M21 Volga is an automobile which was produced in the Soviet Union by GAZ ("Gorki Automobiljni Zavod", in English : "Gorky automobile factory") from 1956 to 1970. The first car to carry the Volga name, it was developed in the early 1950s. Volgas were built with high ground clearance (which gives it a specific "high" look, contrary to "low-long-sleek" look of Western cars of similar design), rugged suspension, strong and forgiving engine, and rustproofing on a scale unheard of in the 1950s.

The Volga was stylistically in line with the major United States manufacturers of the period in which it was introduced, and incorporated such then-luxury features as the reclining front seat, cigarette lighter, heater, windshield washer and 3-wave radio.

When in 1959 the 6-cylinder line of GAZ cars was discontinued, Volga M-21 became the biggest and most luxurious car officially sold to individual owners in the USSR in large quantities, though its price was very high and made it unavailable for most car buyers. 639,478 cars were produced in total.

Source: Wikipedia

Taken at the Västerås Summer Meet 2017

I was approached by an interior design firm to design a chair collection for a Scandinavian hospitality client that were developing hotels throughout Southern Africa. The brief was to create a contemporary chair that was simultaneously International and African.

The inspiration behind this garden chair’s seat pattern is phyllotaxis – the beautiful, spiral growth pattern found in leaf and flower petal arrangements. This organic pattern is naturally in harmony with the chairs intended outdoor environment. The spiral is also symbolic of the African continent being the source of humankind.

The spiral seats physical structure functions both ergonomically and economically, as the pattern is most dense where one’s body comes into contact with the seat and less dense towards the periphery.

It is made from cnc bent, rustproof, recycled, stainless steel and is powder-coated in a variety of floral colours.

Although not as famous, or in this case infamous, as the Austin Allegro, the Morris Marina has often been placed as a contender for worst car ever made ever, a point I find very confusing when you really think about it. I've heard so many people at car shows mention how it was the bane of the British motor industry, how it set us back 20 years and was such a massive failure that it made the Allegro look like a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow in comparison!

But is it true? Is the Morris Marina, that car we all know and love for the various onslaught of spontaneous piano drops, really the most awful thing to come out of Britain's automotive history?

The Morris Marina was launched in 1971, and immediately inundated with problems, largely because of what it was replacing, that symbolic and beautiful piece of post-war British design, the Morris Minor of 1948. The 23 year old design had long passed its sell-by date, and the Marina was meant to be the superb next step for the 1970's. The design and styling was done by Roy Haynes, famous also for the facelifted Mini Clubman and the Ford Cortina, and externally the car was, dare I say, quite handsome. I know, shock horror, but despite being considered repugnant by many, I honestly believe the Marina doesn't actually look that bad, following what appeared to be a design staple of its time with the Hillman Avenger, the Vauxhall Viva and the Ford Escort sharing very similar bodyshapes.

But styling was the least of the Marina's problems, as in a bid to get the car into production in 18 months, the hashed together design was based almost entirely on the Morris Minor it was built to replace. Essentially, underneath the new 1970's body, the Morris Marina is nothing more than another Minor, sharing a majority of parts including the suspension, with some models being powered by the BMC A-Series engine from the Mini. In fact many people cannibalized Morris Marina's back in the 1980's and 90's so as to keep their various Morris Minor projects alive due to the high parts compatibility.

Nevertheless, 18 months of development (in spite of the recommended 32) later, the car hit the showrooms on the 27th March, 1971, and was made available across the Commonwealth under a variety of badges during its production life, including the Leyland Marina in Australia, the Austin Marina in North America, and the Morris 1700 in New Zealand. It was also available in a selection of trim tabs, including a 4-door saloon, a 2-door Coupé, a camper variant, a panel van and as a pickup truck.

Much like the Allegro, the Marina did sell well initially, being the 2nd highest selling car in the UK behind the Ford Cortina in 1973, but was not without major public issues to begin with.

During initial reviews the poorly put together press cars suffered from terrible suspension trouble which resulted in the cars finding it near impossible to take corners. Although this problem was later rectified, 39,000 cars still went out with this original poor suspension without recall to fix these issues.

But after the initial design faults came to light, the production quality faults were the next issue. Much like the Allegro, during strike periods, strike cars left the factories with major components missing, or pieces of trim not in place or not functioning properly, or suffered heavily from malfunctions, be they mechanically or electronically. At the same time the sheer lack of rustproofing on these cars meant that showing them a damp cloth would result in the bare metal brown of death appearing in more places than one.

Even so, the car did continue to sell, and achieve the goal of being basic, simple motoring for the masses despite all its faults, and remained in production until it was replaced by a facelifted version that would become synonymous with lazy ideas.

In 1980, the nine year old Marina was given a new look dubbed the Ital, a name obviously spun to try and draw in the masses for people who thought that this car had been designed by the same people who gave us the Maserati Merak, the Alfasud, the DeLorean and the Lotus Esprit. In fact the truth of the matter is the Morris Ital was a lie in its name, as ItalDesign had only been asked by British Leyland to provide creative consultancy to the company during development. Although Ital did take a look, the final product was the brainchild of Harris Mann, BL's chief engineer who had been known for other strange concoctions like the Triumph TR7, the Princess and the Allegro. Not all blame can fall on Harris Mann though, by God I'm sure he tried, indeed many of his preliminary designs for the Allegro and the Princess looked magnificently space-age, but after some watering down by the folks at British Leyland head office, these things were very much less than stellar.

Other than that though, the Morris Ital, for all intents and purposes, was exactly the same as the Marina that preceded it, same running gear, same door panels, same dashboard, same everything, except this time it had big chunky headlights and tail-lights. In fact you could say that the Morris Ital internally dated back to 1948, seeing as a majority of its internal parts were simply handed down from the Minor! Reliability hadn't improved much and the car was still very basic in terms of equipment. From its launch in 1980 the car was sold as a pickup truck, a van, and a 5-door family estate, although plans for a Sport Coupé were ultimately scrapped. Some cars were also produced in Portugal at the British Leyland factory in Setubal, with these cars being outshopped with 1950's B-Series engines that gave the dizzying power output of 37hp!

Sales however were reasonable, largely due to its low price and running costs, but its reliability and build quality left a lot to be desired. Eventually only 175,000 cars were produced by the time production ended in 1984, the car being replaced by the new Austin Maestro and Montego. The Ital however does have the distinction of being the last production car to wear the Morris badge as after this no other cars were given this name, although this was briefly placed on the Morris Metro van. The Ital did, for some very strange reason, gain a revival in 1998, when the First Auto Works Group of Sichuan province, China, started building the cars again as the Huandu CAC6430 until the closure of the factory in 1999, another very obscure revival of a British Leyland product, but oddly enough 15 years after the last Itals were built!

Today both Marina's and Ital's are near impossible to come by. Of the 809,000 Marina's built, only 670 remain on the roads, whilst of the 175,000 Ital's sold, only 174 continue to exist. As mentioned, most Ital's and Marina's were taken apart as spares donors for the older and far more popular Morris Minor, seeing as a majority of their parts they shared. This is not helped by the running gag on the BBC car show Top Gear, where whenever a Marina appears on the show it is destroyed by a randomly falling Piano dropped by the helicopter Piano haulage company 'Careless Airways'.

But either way, despite all its criticism, I personally don't think the Marina is as bad a car as the world gives it credit for. Even the Ital I'll give some credit as a form of basic motoring, and from some angles it does look quite handsome. Sure it's basic, not well equipped, slow, unreliable and prone to rusting, but as a small family car that ambles about the countryside, it's not as bad as some obscure Eastern Block models, and even today holds a place in the hearts of many as either a happy-go-lucky little runabout, or a cautionary tale of how not to build a car.