11 Jun 07
You're never off-duty when you're a motoring journalist.
It must be a bit like being a doctor: if you reveal at some sort of social function what it is you do, some hypochondriac or other will always start asking you about some ache or pain.
If some one asks me what I do, I sometimes have the good sense not to say immediately what kind of journalist I am, for fear of being asked some mechanical or technical question (that, with my ignorance about what happens under the skin of a car, I won't be able to answer).
However, if I'm too drunk to remember to lie, the first question I generally have to answer is 'What's the best car you've driven?' (the length of the answer to which depends on how much I like the look of the interrogator), closely followed by an appeal for buying advice.
It's a testament to the social circles I tend to circulate in that the most common question I now get asked is about the best seven-seaters on the market. The people I tend to know are family types, with two or three children, who want something that they can get the kids in plus all the paraphernalia involved with a weekend away at the grandparents', with the option of also taking said grannies and grandpas on board.
This question only has one answer. Ford S-MAX.
