I saw a Triumph Herald the other day. It looked just like this: It brought back memories of my own Herald. When I bought mine, I didn't really know what I was getting into. It was really pretty worn-out, with intermittent brakes, an oil-burning engine, and no seat belts. After I had had it for a few months, I was toodling down a back road at about 50 mph, when a lady pulled out in front of me. I hit the brakes, the car pulled hard to the left, and I shot across a drainage ditch on the left side of the road. The front of the car hit a guy wire attached to a telephone pole, the back hit the pole, and I went shooting out the door (door latches didn't work too well, either). I tumbled across the ground, and somehow ended up landing on my feet, hurling imprecations at the driver who had pulled out in front of me. Only later did I realize how fortunate I was to be alive. It was nice to see such a beautifully restored Herald, but I don't miss mine.