(or: My Automotive Journey from Hong Kong to Canada or: Why I am Writing About Cars Now)
As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to write about cars.
I didn't come from an automotive family. None of my family members liked cars all that much. My dad, when I was a kid, once told me that the lump in the middle of the rear seat passenger footwell was the driveshaft -- he drove a
1990 Nissan Sunny. He later replaced that ball of sheer driving pleasure with a
1997 Toyota Regius -- a passenger van that was converted from the HiAce, which is Toyota's version of a giant box on wheels. He still drives that today.
It's not like I was born into an automotive hotbed like Detroit or Stuttgart either. Instead, I was born and raised in Hong Kong, a city built on one of the most sophisticated public transport systems in the world.
And yet, I have always appreciated cars -- or should I say, motoring -- for as long as I remember.
