The Van
25th May 2023

A car doesn’t clock up 349,000km,
without developing the capacity to say fuck you,
develop the nerve to take to the road, dents in panels,
levers and plastic bits missing,
on its own terms,
an engine like that has lived its day of reckoning,
fought the hard battles, and won,
it has proven its worth in a changing landscape of automobilism,
barely noticing the electrification, the Teslas and Leafs, laugh out loud,
what could these possibly bear,
against the faint smell of burnt oil and oppressive engine heat,
emanating from the underfloor compartment,
against the ageless paint stain,
in the crotch position on the bench seat upholstery,
what could they possibly hope to know of a Toyota HiAce van,
of the pedigree, …and the history,
its record proven,
in the distances travelled across the tarmac of a vast land,
yes, they are right to shiver in nervous fright,
to creep along their suburban streets and avenues,
their eery silence, too polite,
and I…,
I am lucky to be blessed with temporary carriage of ‘The Van’,
twelve thousand post covid dollars bought me the right,
to travel with this five speed …steed ,
to ride,
imagined wind in my hair,
freedom in my spirit,
into the night and onto the road,
to adventures yet unknown,
what price freedom and my youth back again,
what price an escape from my now,
from the wipeable Laminex benchtop,
on which my laptop computer sits,
and purrs,
it senses ‘the van’,
senses there are other machines out there in this world,
(a world that has been promised to it),
other machines that are yet unassailable,
unquestionable,
that bear scars from prehistoric, pre-computer ages,
it senses there are lessons to be learned,
if only 'the van' could be kept up with,
and followed wherever it may go,
on the road,
to truly find out,
and to know,
what a machine can be capable of …and be.

Toyota HiAce Van (Used).