Ford Anglias were two a penny when I was a girl – well at least £610, and were billed as the perfect family car. Even my parents had one – although I am far too young to remember of course!

You can just imagine it; father with a soft cloth, buffing and polishing of a Sunday morning and mother getting the children ready while making the sandwiches for the Sunday outing…

We used ours for holidays to Wales and Anglesey, and while I do have vague recollections of eating ice-creams and collecting cowry shells, our means of transport did pass me by. It couldn’t have been pleasant though, with three children in the back, one of them being the “child from hell”. My mother swears my middle brother (since left the country) ruined every family holiday. She now keeps calling my middle child by the “child from hell’s” name. Things don’t change, but at least we have a bigger car which avoids my little darlings being squashed together as we must have been in our Anglia.

Life did seem so much simpler then, as were the cars. Motorways were the new thing and this car, with its top speed of 80 mph, was just the ticket for those longer journeys.

The only safety feature that I could see in the Anglia I drove recently was a very baggy, hard-to-adjust seatbelt. I still have vivid memories of my mother pulling hers over her head so that she could reach the overflowing basket of goodies at her feet, from which she would constantly produce wonderful treats. And the lack of airbags and roll-over protection, while unthinkable in this day and age, does mean the pillars are slimline, allowing light to flood the cabin providing all-round, unimpeded visibility. There are no head restraints either, which enhances this open feeling. Very refreshing.

I was ready to have a few giggles at the car’s expense, but instead it was giggles of sheer delight. I was initially alarmed at the thought of using a choke but was saved any embarrassment as the car started first time. Then I was away – very gently through the gears but eventually up into fourth and 60 mph. I felt like the bees knees, despite the vague steering and brakes, and being overtaken by everyone else on the road. But what did I care?

It would be so much fun to have a car like this to potter around in. The kids would be mortified though – perhaps it might make them walk a bit more?