You know when you go on holiday, you always remark on return how nice it is to be back in your own bed. This is probably true the world over: the familiarity of your own pillows, the smell of your own clean sheets, your bedside paraphernalia, and knowing how to get to the toilet in the dark at 3am without stubbing your toe on some unanticipated obstacle.
I drive a lot of different cars. Nothing necessarily unusual in that as, like me, many others drive a lot of cars from their preferred hire car provider. Last year I drove 13 different cars for up to a week at a time. Mostly left-hand-drive in Europe, but a range of manual and automatic transmission, compact to MPV and SUV, petrol and diesel.
The variety is great, as is always having a ‘new’ car, but the truth is I have to admit to a favourite. It is not new, always a bit dirty, has 80,000km on the clock, but it is mine!
I know that ‘own bed’ experience, and always welcome being back under my own duvet after weeks of living from a suitcase, but getting back in my own car is a very close second. The seat adjusted just as you like it, your preferred radio channel always set, the bass-line not turned up so high that the windows noticably vibrate, and your gadgets readily available in the glove box.
Others will have their own second-best experience (assuming your own-bed is number one the world over!). Due to my various travel arrangements I only get about four month each year with my own car to drive, so I will continue to relish the moment when I get home and I turn the key on my old Chevrolet.