It was five years ago that I mistakenly went to a classic car auction and raised my hand at the wrong time, burdening myself with a slice of British automotive history powered by a lump of iron Detroit muscle.
Come to think of it, 7.2 litres is probably as big as engines got in postwar British production cars.
The fuel bills were eye-watering, and although it had never let me down (I had called out the AA once in five years of ownership), the Jensen SP was now in its 40th year and would probably become more difficult to maintain.
I never expected to keep it five years so it was perhaps more surprising that I hadn't put it up for sale before now. Within a week of advertising it was gone. A gentleman who already owned two royal blue Jensen SPs and decided he needed a third, giving him a 1.3% share of all the SPs ever built.
Come to think of it, 7.2 litres is probably as big as engines got in postwar British production cars.
The fuel bills were eye-watering, and although it had never let me down (I had called out the AA once in five years of ownership), the Jensen SP was now in its 40th year and would probably become more difficult to maintain.
I never expected to keep it five years so it was perhaps more surprising that I hadn't put it up for sale before now. Within a week of advertising it was gone. A gentleman who already owned two royal blue Jensen SPs and decided he needed a third, giving him a 1.3% share of all the SPs ever built.
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