Volkswagen, *sigh*. Volkswagen might as well have been the 6th child in our family. Maybe like some sort of a mystical sibling that everyone knows oh so well, and is yet embarrassed of, all at the same time. 'It' or 'Vinnie' as I will affectionately refer to, partook in all of the family vacations, and stood as an obstacle if it didn't want to take us there, or was having a bad day. Bad day might be an understatement when you consider 'fig. A' below...
I first came to know the Volks as a teenager. We quickly cultivated a love/hate relationship as these wheels were a source of my independence and freedom, but an independence that was shackled to humility. In my own mind there are vivid pictures of Jettas, Passatts, Foxes, Golfs, Rabbits, and the infamous Vanagon (Westfalia). I think we have had multiples of almost every single model except the most normal looking one: the Golf. That being said, we drove that thing until the death. I remember when the interior fabric on the roof was sagging down onto our heads, and the rear-view mirror fell off the windshield...but we just swatted that fabric off our 80's/90's hairstyles and held up the rear-view airborne mode if we wanted to switch lanes. There was no way we were watching that baby retire.
Let me introduce you to our fleet (or at least a few of our faves):
|Affectionately known as "Sandy" or "the Nug" (short for the golden nugget). It was touch and go with her for a few years, but luckily Gare was able to resurrect her back to life every time.|