THIS MONTH my worst fear was realised. I kerbed one of the Cupra’s beautiful 19-inch diamond-cut hoops of alloy loveliness.
It was a weekday morning and I was dropping my wife off at the hospital where she works. There was only a small space at the roadside and traffic was heavy going both ways along the road. I just pushed my luck a few millimetres too far when diving into the gap, and my day was well and truly ruined.
A gut-wrenching vibration ran up through the steering wheel and into my fingertips, leaving my reluctant brain no choice but to acknowledge the petrolhead’s worst nightmare. It was only a brush against the kerb, but the front left-hand wheel was scrubbed badly over nearly a quarter of its circumference.
I hadn’t got the heart to take a picture of the damage before it went into m...