All in all, we think this is a highly characterful car in decent cosmetic condition for its age and with solid, recently fettled mechanicals that should keep it honest and enjoyable for a good few years yet.
It’s a long way from perfect, but measured in Jaguar Mk 2 terms (the car with which it shares its body and many underpinnings), it’s much nearer to Morse’s cossetted and cherished example than it is to Withnail & I’s basket-case scrapper.
The car starts first time on the button (literally), and it drives and handles well, although the first purchaser, for reasons known only to him- or herself, chose not to tick the power steering box on the options list. Consequently, you wouldn’t want to take this car over a twisty mountain pass unless you had forearms like Popeye and felt like a workout.
This car was born in the year that the Beatles released their debut album, Lamborghini stared making cars, Christine Keeler was arrested for perjury and JFK was assassinated. So, it’s getting on a bit.
It looks great from 20ft away. And it’s a lovely colour. A closer inspection tells the slightly more accurate - but by no means shocking - story of its years.
The paintwork has a scratch here, a ripple there, and scuffs, marks and micro-blistering here, there and elsewhere (but not everywhere). The interior is in good fettle generally – and certainly for its age – but there are some decidedly ‘quirky’ aspects to it – more of which later - and there are plenty of cosmetic jobs to be done if the future owner fancies getting it to the next level.
Mechanically the car seems perfectly sound and we’ve discovered no serious rot and hardly any rust at all.
And so to the mileage. Well, nobody knows. The odometer is clearly delusional but it is at least consistent in being ridiculously wrong when you look through the papers!
Even the briefest look at this vehicle’s MOT history as recorded on the gov.uk site will make your brain hurt. We thought that the only car capable of travelling backwards and forwards through time was, in fact, a DeLorean. But no, this Daimler 250 V8 can also do it.
So, here is just one sample sequence:
10.4.10 – 3,045 miles
29.6.12 – 13 miles
21.6.13 – 5,088 miles
3.7.14 – 589 miles
It’s bonkers.
But it’s not any kind of skullduggery – just a mad odometer – and the very good news is that it has passed 9 times in the DVLA’s digital history.
Which is why we’re happy to go with the car’s condition, the money that’s recently been spent on it and the fact that it drives as it should. All of which observations tell their own, rather more meaningful story.
The vendor, who really hasn’t had much opportunity to do much more than spend some money on it, is selling because he needs the space for another classic, one that’s just returned from being fettled – a splendid 1936 Alvis Silver Eagle.
We are reassured that a chap with such obvious good taste was happy to buy and own this Daimler.