Personally, I don’t really get cars. I drive one of these. Yes, that’s right: a 1985 Renault 5. I bet there are readers of this blog who are younger than my car. Please don’t think that I don’t love my car, because I do – but I love this car in particular, not cars in general, and feel no desire to upgrade to something more flashy. Unlike, say, Teodorin Obiang, son of the president of Equatorial Guinea. He drives two Bugatti Veyrons, a Ferrari 599 GTO and a Maserati MC12 – or at least he did, until they were seized by the French authorities last year. That’t two Bugatti Veyrons – of only thirty made of that model, top speed 250 mph, each costing about €1.1 million. (I’m guessing they were on tick, as his salary is €3,200 a month. He’ll be done paying for them in 2069.)
Slightly lower down the scale, we have James Ibori – once a cashier in a DIY store, then a governor in Nigeria, and now enjoying a well-deserved rest at Her Majesty’s pleasure, serving thirteen years for money laundering. He acquired a fleet of armoured Range Rovers (well, you can’t be too careful around the yummy mummies of Hampstead) costing £600,000, a £120,000 Bentley, a Jaguar and a £335,000 Maybach limousine. Setting his sights high, at the time of his arrest he was trying to buy a private jet – for £15 million.
About once a year, someone will ask me whether my line of business is in fact a type of money laundering, as I benefit from crime: if there was no crime, there would be no laundering, and I would be teaching Shakespeare to hormonal teenagers, like, whatevah. Fun though that question always is, I would just like to point out that while Obiang and Ibori were melting the tarmac of various European cities with their speed machines, the last time I was in Guernsey, I used my Ormer Card on the bus. It’s all glamour.