Here we take the Morris 1300GT out of its cell, the first time in years, and take it to the MoT station. Ah, the whine of idler gear...

IT’S NOT often you unearth a bonafide classic, let alone one which epitomises its era – like the Morris 1300GT.

    Okay so it’s a four-door and it’s painted a rather sobre colour – white – instead of a yellow, orange or red so bright that it makes your retinas itch, but there is something definitely lustful about these very English cars.

    Trimmed inside and out with vinyl and Dunlop alloy lookalike wheeltrims, the only thing which would make the 1300GT more Seventies would be an Alvin Stardust starter motor. Coo-coo-acoo-ca-tchoo and you’d be off, a young groover on the hunt for a suitable hot-pants wrapped chick or two.

    Another thing which appeals about these cars is their rarity; both 1100s and 1300s of all persuasions have fizzled off the face of the Earth – most the victim of rust, others villainously at the greedy paws of scrappage-offering dealers peddling Korean-built blandness. Bastards.

    In the Seventies and early Eighties, there were plenty of these cars around, but now so many of them have gone. The little old lady down the street passed away years ago. Your school teacher retired, upgrading to something more reliable with less soul. You might have crashed yours and John Cleese hasn’t beaten one up since his ‘Fawlty Towers’ homage in the middle of his Eighties flick ‘Clockwise’.

    It’s a shame, because a quick ride in the vinyl-clad, twin-carb rortiness of the 1300GT’s cabin and I really would love to have one – plus I can’t help but think that it would make a fine complement to the Cosmic Bus...

    However, Mad Mark has now got it up for sale and you might have seen at the Beaulieu Autojumble priced at £3750 – and one A-series is enough for me. Plus I’d feel more or less obligated to fill the BL gap with a Maxi.