‘Black! Oh Pup, it looks like the Batmobile.’
Scarlett, my daughter, was impressed with my new whip, but unimpressed with its hue. In the artistic family I belong to, black isn’t a colour, rather an absence of all visible light, or in the case of a Honda Civic Type R, just lots of water marks if you don’t clean it with two separate buckets and dry it with towels (towels, for Pete’s sake!). I’ve even joined a Facebook group for chauffeurs, which gives valuable advice on the streak-free cleaning of shiny black cars.
By now the more assiduous of you will be questioning the colour of my Type R, which has previously appeared as Milano Red.
