A Love Letter to My L322

“I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In”

I thought I’d talk about my L322 for a while here, given that everyone on the planet seems to be talking about the L322…

It’s a good example of the kind of car where The Vault workshop can make a real difference: complex, somewhat archaic electronically and in many cases (but for the love of the owner) one major failure away from being parted out. We’re very, very good at understanding cars like these, and providing cost effective, clever and high quality solutions to complex problems - as we shall discover…

I’ve always wanted one. I’ve had the predecessor, the P38, and that journey was worth covering in a later blog… And I remember seeing them around when new, and just being spellbound as a ten year old by the acres of leather, the best interior I’d ever encountered. The imposing stance - the Range Rover is a British institution, and this felt like the best of them.

I love this car. Love isn’t a word I throw around with abandon… I do believe that cars, or the right kind of cars, are more than just an assembly of metal, rubber and upholstery - but for a car to find a place in my heart, it has to have an X factor - a je ne sais quois. This has got it in spades - it’s a little slice of upper middle England, a sense of superiority that can be yours for less than a tenth of the first sale price.

£48,995 - that’s what my beloved car was ticketed new - confirmed by the original bill of sale still present in the history file. That’s over £90,000 in today’s money - part of what I adore about it is it still feels like the best car on the road in 2002. Most of the time.

I must admit, it felt a little less premium when it was dogged with an issue with the infamous air suspension. Nothing major in the end, but the kind of annoying dashboard message that devalues the experience somewhat every time you open the drivers door… A complex system that once understood, was easy to remedy. And once it is working, the ride quality is so utterly, utterly brilliant - I’d go as far as to say Rolls Royce quality. I’ll take the additional benefits too, like the fact that it will self-level if I’m ever brave enough to hook a trailer up to the anxiety-inducing gearbox…

The fuel pump also let me down, inconveniently on my driveway. But as the air suspension was working, I could at least raise the car up to access and get to the pump with plenty of headroom… It’s almost like BMW knew.

I bought my car last year from a dealer - Heel and Toe in Coggeshall, a couple of guys about my age with an impressive selection of desirable modern and future classic cars, a great experience all round - check them out.

Seen on an EBay advert, it was relatively close, and close by - a low mileage, low ownership gem with a great history and a sense that it had been well looked after. I loved the spec - a stunning shade of deep metallic blue with a cream leather interior, which was (not is, regrettably, it doesn’t mix well with oily hands) unmarked. Unmodified too - no 22s or tints here, just as it left Solihull.

Things that are important to me when selecting my next partner-in-crime include matching tyres of a brand you’ve heard of - it’s not conclusive but gives a sense that the car hadn’t been maintained on a shoestring. The spec is less important - mine is an HSE and the next one up, the Vogue, comes with heated steering wheel and rear seats, and a couple of other options I just wasn’t concerned about. The most appealing aspect however, was the mileage - at a shade over 80k it was the lowest I could find, stacking the odds in the favour of trouble-free honeymoon period.

Not that I was tremendously concerned about that, to be honest… I wanted one, and I wanted one like this - and that’s just good enough sometimes. It had to be diesel, and I wanted a TD6 over a later car - it’s aged well, almost a neo-classic with orange indicators, and reminds us of a time when 18 inch wheels were considered big. With the budget I was operating in, I also preferred a tidy TD6, over a ropey TDV8; and so far, so good.

If it plays up? I’ll fix her, because she’s beautiful, elegant and cosseting, and she deserves it.

And here’s the thing: The Vault makes the difference. The ability to run a nearly-25-year-old, occasionally temperamental, gentle giant every day - and do so with confidence - comes from the backing of a team at TVE that really understand what makes cars of this ilk tick. It’s a pleasure to own this car, and a joy to be part of the operation that keeps it alive. The Vault Workshops are open to you too, and we’ll care for your car with the same pride and adoration we bestow upon our own.