No classic car makes me go quite as weak at the knees – even the thought of it turns them to jelly, the sight of one makes me soil my underpants – as the Lamborghini Espada.
Of all the cars likely to feature in this horribly self-indulgent series of listing the cars I don't have the wherewithal or guts to own, this one has been the object of the most agonising close encounters.
The main problem with the Espada is that, even when they were teetering on the precipice of affordability for me – gosh that was a long time ago, they're mostly POA nowadays – the only ones I could afford were precisely the ones that I shouldn't have bought.
Decent examples that wouldn't turn me upside down and empty my pockets weren't that much more expensive at the time, but all classic buyers fit into two groups: those who buy the worst example of the cars they most desire because that is all they can afford (and then try to live with the inevitable consequences) or those who work out what they can afford and then buy the best example of something sensibly within that price range. Maybe even putting aside a little contingency fund.
As you know, I am a mercurial and impulsive person who is easily besotted with cars and therefore comfortably fits into the former group, never learning my lesson, repeatedly buying cars that syphon away my assets as relentlessly as a dual cyclone Dyson.
