Mini rag-top a perfect fit for mum and me

My mum, bless her, is 94 and long past caring how old people think — or know — her to be. A bit dodgy on the legs these days and macularly degenerated to the point she can no longer do her beloved crosswords or even read the paper, she’s still as lively as a bag of ferrets.

Savagely independent and still cursing the day she was told she’d have to stop driving, with so much independence bled from her, she still enjoys travelling and is game to be driven pretty much anywhere within comfortable travelling time.

She has willingly taken up the navigator seat, although she is a no-nonsense co-pilot. A trip from Cork to Dublin could be summed up as follows: