I’ve always lusted after the Aston Martin DB5. I’m not sure whether it’s the James Bond connection or whatever, but for some reason I felt I always wanted one.
One came up for sale near me about a year-and-a-half ago. I went to look at it – a right-hand-drive model that a man had owned since 1972 or ’73. We got down there and it was pretty much a complete wreck. I mean, I could see from 50 feet it was a mess. It was pewter grey with red leather interior. As I got closer I saw that the leather was completely cracked, broken, torn up.