A career in a stressful job running a business in the ‘city’ afforded me the ability to indulge in my passion for sports cars, in particular Porsche 911s. To me car ownership has never been about status or impressing mates, in fact I have always been uneasy about what it might say about me to family, clients and friends to spend – some might say – silly sums of money on what amounts to a combination of tin, plastic, glass and rubber.

The enjoyment I derive from these cars comes from using them, driving on quiet roads, testing my ability on track days and occasionally getting my hands dirty working on them (in a very limited manner, as befits my lack of confidence).

I have never really been one for car clubs, or car meets, although as I get older and find myself with more down time I have admittedly recently spent the odd morning drinking mediocre coffee and chatting with fellow enthusiasts who suffer from the same nerdish interest. And at these meets (often held during the early hours of a Sunday morning when I really should be walking the dog or making breakfast for my long-suffering wife) there are usually a collection of other 911s and their owners who may ask why did you choose to own a 32-year old 911 (derivative 964) rather than a modern GT3 which would cost the same and offer up massively superior performance?

The simple answer is I've been there, done that, got the t-shirt – okay, the branded clothing, long-since relegated to polishing cloths, after being ribbed mercilessly. But why? Let me explain.

Driving a Porsche 911 for the first time

The first 911 I drove was a Guards red (with linen interior) 1990 964 Carrera 4 that my brother bought when it was two years old. Frankly, at the time you could hardly give the cars away. If you think depreciation on a new EV daily driver is terrible, I could trump that with the residual nightmare that was the early 1990s for Porsche.

However, as far as I was concerned, this was good news as it afforded my brother with the opportunity to drive a lightly used 911, when I could barely scrape together the funds necessary to insure my little Citroën AX GT, mostly parked outside my flat in Fulham.

Needless to say the odd drive in my older brother's 911 blew my mind, but no matter what level of man maths I tried I simply couldn’t justify the running costs of even the rustiest worn out '70s or '80s 911.

Making matters even harder I decided upon receipt of my first bonus – in the mid '90s – to spend it not on a deposit for a flat to get myself on the property ladder, but instead to go motor racing. So every spare penny went into a very expensive hobby that further ruled out the possibility of Porsche ownership. Soon my brother had sold his red 911 only for another of my brothers to purchase an immaculate, one previous German doctor owner, 1988 911 3.2 Clubsport. Now this car really was a dream to own and drive, right up to the moment some light-fingered so-and-so lifted it off the street in Clapham onto (would you believe it) a Porsche-branded recovery truck and it was never to be seen again. For my brokenhearted brother Dan, the insurance payout was wisely absorbed into a house deposit.

Fast forward almost 10 years and after a string of fast BMW daily drivers and a new business venture, I had sufficient funds to walk into my local Porsche centre and order the latest 911. At the time, in the autumn of 2004, that boiled down to a choice of either the new 997 generation or one of the last 996 GT3s. Pen poised above the two differing order forms, I had a sudden moment of parental guilt and decided to forgo the GT3 for a 997 Carrera 2 S which had little seats in the back so that my first-born could come along for the rise. She rarely did of course, preferring the vista from her child seat in my wife’s Subaru Forester Turbo, so after 18 months of limited use the 997 was swapped for a Manthey-tuned 996 GT3 RS – and this is where the trouble really started.

Now that I was no longer able to continue with club motorsport (not a pursuit well suited to being a present dad with a growing young family) I had to get my fix through doing the odd track day with other pals who’d had to kick the racing bucket and had bought similar toys. It also signified the beginning of a chapter of serial 911 ownership and a relationship with my local Porsche specialist, Paragon Porsche near Mayfield, East Sussex.

At one point I had acquired a total of six 911s, four of which were RS models, including a 1973 2.7 RS (M472 Touring, chassis no' 672), followed by at least one new or used GT3 of most generations. Clearly I had been possessed with an obsession for hardcore 911s and this luckily was exorcised by an expensive divorce, which rather brought me back to earth. Even so, I still managed to find the funds to order a new 981 Cayman GT4 which was later replaced with a 991.2 GT3 Touring, whilst owning a second more focused GT3 RS for occasional track day use.

A change of career and new business venture meant that I could no longer afford a brace of 911’s, so a choice had to be made last year whether to keep the truly wonderful sapphire blue 991 GT3 Touring that I had ordered from new six years ago, or the Maritime blue 964 Carrera RS I had swapped a GT3 RS for with Paragon just before Covid hit in early 2020. Whilst it was hard deciding which car to let go, both of which I felt were highpoints in Porsche’s back catalogue, it did force me to question what it was about these cars that I derive the most enjoyment from.

Neither were daily drivers, both saw use both on the road and track, but increasingly predominately on the road for high days and holidays. Therefore what I really wanted was a car that felt quite different to the daily driver, a car with character, a sense of occasion. The fact that the car wasn’t the most refined cruiser, or didn’t have a sound system or modern creature comforts was on no concern. What I want is a car that feels special and demands something from you the driver. In return of your commitment it rewards with unfiltered feedback and theatre. This is where the Carrera RS really scores for me; it is perfectly happy pottering about, but also excites and involves the driver at semi-sensible, socially acceptable speeds. Try saying that about most modern sports cars. To me they feel bland unless you are prepared to drive at more than 7/10ths and I am simply not comfortable doing that on today's crowded and camera-covered roads. Whereas the 964 has a small footprint on the road, doesn’t cost a fortune to run and doesn’t eat up consumables, yet it still feels strong, modern enough and dependable.

To me it’s the classic car that you can use on any journey without considerable preparation to mitigate the potential for breakdowns. Short of the usual lights and levels check up I’d happily drive it to Goodwood for a day spent driving flatout on track or a roadtrip with friends to Le Mans. Whilst a modern GT3 really comes alive on the track, and frankly I would argue nothing with numberplates and a nod to civility compares, to me they feel like big and conspicuous motorcars when driven with restraint on the road. For the way I use my 911, the older air cooled cars seem to make more sense and hold greater appeal.

So the 964 Carrera RS makes me happy and I would urge anyone given the chance to sample one. As was very evident when Harry Metcalfe recently reviewed one on his popular ‘Harrys Garage’ YouTube channel, the smile says it all…

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