Skinny Cappuccino: Part one

In what is most accurately described as a bout of (hopefully) temporary insanity, I recently dropped off my Suzuki Cappuccino for some ‘light’ restoration work and, in an entirely predictable turn of events, it all quickly got out of hand.

I am first to admit that when I embarked upon 1990s Japanese car ownership, I did so somewhat naïvely. First, coming from Portugal, a rather more temperate country than this, I hugely underestimated the fulminant effect of salt road residue on a car’s underside.

‘Rust’ wasn’t really part of my vocabulary until I moved to the UK and watched horrified as my first car ripened over winter. Secondly, and it’s possible there’s an element of love being blind here, I gaslighted myself into believing parts scarcity wouldn’t really be an issue. After all, the Cappuccino had been sold domestically here, so there was bound to be a stock of bits stowed away somewhere – right? Very wrong, actually, as I was to find out. Paraphrasing one of my favourite TV shows (BoJack Horseman; if you haven’t, you really should), you can’t really see red flags through rose-tinted glasses.

Read part two here