THERE WAS ALSO A DVD PLAYER INSTALLED AND A WINDSCREEN DECAL OF AN EAGLE

Tribe Called Quest once left a wallet in El Segundo - I magnificently left mine, along with every lesson learned over the last 34 years at the gateway to a villa in Al Barsha, Dubai.

Yes, a stone's throw from the Mall of the Emirates I exchanged my much-loved red Caterham Super 7 HPC for the honesty of a handshake and the promise of funds the very next day. You may fault me for my ignorance, as I do my very utmost to part-fund the revival of the yellow Caterham G7 260 after its meeting with a wall, but I wasn't dealing with your average Joe!

The story started back at the evo stand at the Dubai Motorshow, in 2007. One fine day at the show, I was introduced to a prominent figure of Dubai. He was an avid reader of evo and enquired curiously after my HPC Super 7. His fascination with the feisty flame red one of the evo fast fleet led to one evening where potential customer, Caterham and I drove up and down Sheikh Zayed road and a stint carving a path around the back roads of Al Barsha. By the end of the night we'd struck a deal, shaken hands and by all accounts smiled a lot. The young man had a very rare Caterham, while I technically had secured half the funds to put the spectacularly binned G7 260 bang to rights. Then came crunch time, a time where most people (including I any other day) would have walked away, when the question was posed that he take the car and then - as is the way I guess - a driver is deployed the following day to collect yours truly to sign the necessary paperwork and (of course) collect the cash. And I did walk away, while the chap drove away with the car. I made a few calls, and widespread it was believed that this was the way things are done, leaving the car with the palace for checks to be made, new plates issued and so forth.

The next time I saw the car was a week later when said significant person paid a visit to the evo office, drank some coffee, talked about cars and asked my advise on an oil leak that had surfaced in the last few days. The leak was significant, caused by a hardy altercation with a speed bump I surmised, a bump that had ripped the sump guard clean in two, possibly holing the sump itself. Adding insult, on a more aesthetical tip, the Super 7 was now covered in stickers and stars, with flags hanging from every corner. There was also a DVD player (I kid you not) installed, a windscreen decal of an eagle, another of Sheikh Mohammed and number 26 stuck on both sides of the car. There was also a stonking sub and various other speakers littering the boot area.

But this was not my car anymore, so I turned a blind eye and waited for the exchange of cash for the 'now' damaged goods. But he simply jumped in the car and drove off. I later heard a story of family illness, and a financial delay of say two days. The two days turned into another week, until phone calls were simply ignored. Finally after a barrage of calls from my end, the new royal owner of the red Caterham buckled under pressure and told me to visit his villa. On arrival he was nowhere to be seen, but miraculously my Caterham was, being stripped of the sound system by his minions, but alas not the stickers or the flags. I was then handed back the keys by his smug brother, who brushed his palms together and then told me to leave.

I was also handed half the passenger door, which had been damaged and watched as the electric gates of the villa drew the curtains on their fun time with my classic car.

I unashamedly wept as I drove home that night, feeling the car's pain. The little Super 7 was disappointed in the trust I had bequeathed and my ultimate failure to adhere to every golden rule when it comes to car sales. And the little sports car was within its rights to avoid my eye contact. The engine was losing oil at an alarming rate - and there was an awful lot of damage to the once gleaming bodywork - dented, scratched and creased in many parts, by all means necessary I assume.

The revs rose violently and dipped to the point of stalling, then back up again. The brake lights had stopped working too, as had the indicators, the rear lights stayed on constantly, the driver's seat was totally destroyed and there were (and remain) holes all over place where the DVD player was installed, later removed, and a wiring loom trunked through the length of the car. And then there was glue splashed about the interior, wooden flags glued to the side of the car, and a ghastly gash that has split the fibreglass rear arch in two. The rear number plate assembly has been bent backwards too and the car has lost its balance, veering to the right no matter what you do.

How you can destroy a car in such little time is beyond me, and why you'd treat such a classic as this in such a way is another question. I am quite glad to have my Caterham back now, I must say, salvaging her from the temporary ownership of mistreatment and abuse. Naturally I wish things had turned out better and I hadn't just given my car to someone for a total of 21 days to have it handed back a wreck, but hey these things happen. Oh and there were $ 736 of traffic violations too. Lets just hope 2008 has something better in store for old red! I owe her that much at the very least.

On a slightly different note, I had the very pleasure of installing the roof of the Caterham recently, when the clouds opened up and dished up Dubai a jolly good gush of rain. As the Super 7 is currently my only mode of 'registered' transport I had to brave the elements in my shin-high sports car; soaked on the first day, lacking any intuition that bad weather was heading our way and of course a roof. I still can't predict the weather, but I do know how to fit the roof, which hadn't been out of its custom leather bag for ten years at least.

Later that day I headed to Yellow Hat and spent $ 110 on a beefier horn, a tartan cushion to tuck behind the damaged seat, an air-freshener to hopefully rid the cabin of the damp smell and some brighter headlamp bulbs. I also bought a tool kit too, as I feel many more issues will surface in the next few weeks - and I want to be prepared.