The Jimny Diaries
Life with a diminutive off-roader caught on camera
What initially started out as plans for a video series under the title The Jimny Diaries, eventually morphed into the Jimny joining the classic fleet at Classic Car Weekly. In its span on the fleet, it’s bombed down to Le Mans, trekked up to Ben Nevis and shouldered the burden of being a daily driver. The car that properly taught me to love cars. It’s still going and still pressed into regular service as a delivery van, taxi, mile-muncher, off-roader, office and sometimes, camper. It was also replaced for a week by a version of itself in Corfu. But we’ll get to that
Lads on Tour
I’ll admit, I should have seen that one coming. Having rebuilt the rear brakes last year, I was able to get the Jimny through its MOT, but not without cranking the handbrake adjuster to its absolute maximum. Clearly, another year’s service would further exhaust the cables, and they would need replacing ahead of its 2026 exam. Something I flatly forgot to do and dropped the car off with the cheery expectation that it would sail through the test. My ignorance was upturned by a phone call letting me know that JE55EEB hadn’t passed its test due to the handbrake not working efficiently. Shocking I know. Annoyingly, I’d put the car in for its MOT early instead of forgetting and trying get a test in a panic once it’s certificate expired. Once it had failed, its left-over MOT was now invalid. So, an online shopping trip and expedited shipping was called for.
I’m eternally glad for the Jimny’s slow slide into classic treatment, as a result there’s now a wealth of spares options for it online, as well as specialists who are treating typical niggles of the car, like rot creeping in behind the body cladding. Mercifully, Jimny Bits had a set of cables in stock and soon winging their way to me. I spent a Sunday fitting them; slot the toggled end into the spreader bar on the handbrake mechanism having slackened off the adjuster. Run the lines backwards, they come with fresh brackets and bolt into place with ease. Then it’s a case of poking them through the back of the brake drum and tugging the metal aglet at the end into the handbrake armature that sits in the drum.
To remove the old ones, the trick is to tap a 12mm ring spanner over the metal clip that expands into the back of the drum, this compresses the fir-tree clip style element and allows you to tug the old cables out with ease. With a slight adjustment at the lever, and bleed of the rear brakes, we were back up and working for a retest within a week.
The Friday of Scafell was gloriously sunny and prime for a quick photo shoot by Wast Water before the ascent. After a post-climb lunch, the drive out of the lakes, having topped off the tank, later that afternoon was glorious in the setting sun. On a winding sinew of tarmac, with the Irish sea glistening off the distance and the golden hues of the sky flooding the cabin, it was quite fitting that Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance (March 1 if we’re splitting hairs) should have come on the radio as we rumbled across a deeply picturesque corner of England.
Saturday’s schlep across North Wales was equally as relaxed, running out past Llangollen and on to Betws-y-Coed, the route passes by the Llangollen Railway as both twist through the bottom of the valley. The railway’s GWR Pannier Tank (7754) was out in steam and shuttling along the line below me with a rake of coaches, with a few tweaks, a scene that wouldn’t look out of place in one of our The Way We Were spreads.
Post Snowdon, the run back to Bedfordshire was uneventful, the Jimny eating up the motorway miles with aplomb. All in, the Jimny put away 1200 miles in four days without missing a single beat, earning itself a dose of fresh oil and filter. £45 and an evening in the workshop had the oil changed and a new filter spun on. For good measure, I blew out the air-filter. It’s earned it.
Having passed on the Monday, I loaded the car up with my hiking gear on Wednesday and set off for Scotland, via Oswestry, to pick up two mates to tackle the Three Peaks Challenge. Typically, you’d do this in 24 hours, starting at Ben Nevis, before tackling Scafell Pike and Snowdon/Yr Wyddfa. In the interest of safety, we opted to just tackle one each day, which also allowed us to enjoy the adventure.
At Oswestry, I swapped the driver’s seat for the passenger seat and let my friend Dan take the wheel for a stint as far as Penrith. We swapped again after a stop for petrol, lunch and a last-minute hiking supply shop, before installing Jacob for the next leg as far as Glasgow. I’d jump back in for the schlep through Glen Coe and into Fort William. The Jimny isn’t a complicated car to drive on the face of it, but the clutch can be a little tricky, especially with the car packed to the gunwales with crampons, hiking poles and fleeces. Dan’s feedback was, ‘Once I got used to where the indicator was - it’s on the right in a Jimny, it was a pretty smooth drive.’ Jacob’s report was equally as glowing, ‘Once used to the clutch, it was an enjoyable drive. I was surprised how much we managed to fit in!’ Considering the weather conditions they faced while getting to grips with the Jimny, which included howling winds tugging at the boxy SUV over each bridge heading north to hail and flurries of snow, the positive feedback made me feel a little bit of pride. I trust them enough as friends to have not saved my blushes with their feedback. Space in the back was reportedly a little cramped, though, so the two-and-a-half-hour stints proved key to preventing loss of feeling in the feet for backseat passengers.
Having battled waist-deep snow at the summit of Ben Nevis, the Jimny proved a cosy companion to warm back through once descended, and the run out of Scotland, to the Lakes was largely uneventful too, though by now an aroma of wet gear and fetid man was starting to build. We were running tight for time to check into the hostel in the Lakes, and with the rain tipping down, it was a bit of a rush through the pitch darkness to get to our overnight halt before the front desk shut for the night; made all the more risky by the fuel light coming on too!
Originally published in Classic Car Weekly - 13th May 2026
Ol’ Unreliable Returns - Goodwood, Weddings and Gearboxes
When the Jimny last graced these pages, I’d spent weeks fighting the rear brakes and resetting the handbrake. With the car back on the road, it was ready to get back to its business as my daily transport.
It shared the car park with a Spitfire at the Drive-It Day Scramble (the Supermarine kind, not the Triumph kind). In May, it shrugged off the shuttle from Bedfordshire to East Anglia for a big photo shoot, June was Silverstone testing Esprits.
I cheated on it in July with a Corfiot convertible before pressing JE55 EEB back into hard graft at the Goodwood Festival of Speed. FoS is a flat-out event to cover, and the traffic in and out is always a nightmare, unless you own an Ordnance Survey map and a 4WD. I shan’t give away my secret route, though, but ground clearance and scrabbling ability are key.
July was also packed with my sister’s wedding. You’ll be familiar with the Midget not being ready for the big day, so the Jimny was pressed into service and was arguably the better choice, considering the amount of stuff I ended up lugging about on the day. From umbrellas, bags of make-up, a stetson, and coats, with the rear seats down, being able to chuck stuff into the back of the bus proved valuable.
August saw the Jimny go camping at Silverstone for the Festival, acting as a charging station for camera batteries and laptops while covering the event for CCW. And then it all went wonky again.
Spots of oil appeared on the drive at home, and a quick poke about on a borrowed lift revealed the gearbox as the likely culprit. To avoid causing any damage to an under-lubricated gearbox, I parked the car on Grandma’s drive and set about saving funds for an overhaul. Given that it had taken several months to build an engine, I didn’t fancy my chances of doing a gearbox, so I called my local Suzuki dealer for a quote, which led to a sharp intake of breath and a depressed look at my bank account.
Once again, the spare family Vauxhall Astra was drummed into service, coping admirably with a downpour-ridden Revival, but with the MG back on the road, it wasn’t too glum a time. By December, I’d put aside enough to get the car booked in and one quiet morning, limped it up to Suzuki for its wellness programme in December.
It turned out to be the transfer case and the gearbox tail seal. The workshop dropped both and had them back in a few days later at a cost, naturally.
But for the first time since August 2024, I have had my fleet up to full strength. Excellent!
First published in Classic Car Weekly - 18th February 2026
A Holiday Romance
I don’t suppose many people feel compelled to rent their own car, but I’m not normal like that. So it comes as no surprise that when on holiday earlier this year in Corfu, with my incredibly patient girlfriend, we hired a Jimny as our means of transport. We’d spent a week in Albania already, exploring its southernmost region around Sarandë and ragging a rented diesel Ford Fiesta – it was as gutless as it sounds - up the winding mountain roads. With sights to continuing our adventures in Corfu, we decided to rent a Jimny.
Albania’s driving roads are stunning, with quiet mountain passes winding up its coast.
We’d spent two days in Corfu before catching the ferry to Albania and in that short span had already seen 76 Jimnys bustling about town. At the harbour there was a swarm of them parked up ready for renting, so I snapped a picture of the sticker on the door of one and gave the company a call. Dates and times were agreed and so, when we arrived back in the harbour after a week on the other side of the Corfu Channel, a white, convertible Jimny was waiting for us.
My daily Jimny is a fixed head car, so I was eager to see if the canvas elements added something to the Jimny experience. Over the following days, we set off on all manner of adventures about the Greek island in search of a beaches and hiking trails; all with the the top down. In the baking 35°C weather, the open cabin made a heck of a lot of sense. The Jimny itself also made a lot of sense in the melee of Corfiot driving. With the roof down, visibility is great, and you’ve got the open-air advantage of being able to more clearly gesture at other road users. Valuable considering indicators and rights-of-way are utilised and obeyed with more of a lax attitude than in the UK. Add in the narrow streets and cut throughs, rough roads and points where the tarmac just stops… the Jimny comes into its own, able to bob and weave through the lanes with ease and utilise its ground clearance and four-wheel-drive to scramble through the rockiest of trails. We found our way to Agios Georgios, if you’re as much of a James Bond nerd as I am, you might know that this area was used extensively in the filming of 1981’s For Your Eyes Only, including the 2CV chase sequence, thankfully we weren’t set about by some goons in Peugeot 504s.
Spotted the suspect ferry from the Top Gear trip to Albania, had to have a go.
The experience wasn’t perfect. As with all hire cars, the Jimny had led a tough existence and was suffering from a lifter tick, and eventually the engine warning light illuminated. A quick check of the oil level showed it was a little on the low side and didn’t look or smell fresh. A quick stop at a petrol station to grab a bottle of Shell solved the issue quickly. Oh, and the front right-hand indicator didn’t work, but that didn’t seem to matter given the attitude other road users employ.
A family reunion out near Nymphes on a hunt for waterfalls.
From bouncing through olive groves, visiting a brewery, searching for waterfalls, the Jimny proved a perfectly capable and agile companion, brilliantly suited to the conditions of the road and its users. Does taking the roof off add something to the Jimny? Absolutely. On the late-night drives back over the Troumpeta Pass, the roof back and the cool breeze carrying the gentle buzz of insects and sweet smell of the flowers as they relaxed into the cooling evening air made for a magical experience. Did it change my thoughts on the Jimny? A little yes. It reminded me why I like the model, its cheeky nature, endless practicality and charm. It’s a car that’s fostered an enthusiastic following and the joy it kindles is infectious. In the UK, it’s an unwritten rule that you’ll joyously wave to other Jimny owners as you pass. While bounding about the back roads of Corfu, we passed a Jimny Safari, a cavalcade of Jimnys all following the leader on a tour of the island. All in on the holiday I counted 266 of the little Suzukis over the seven days total spent in Corfu. Do I want a second Jimny with the rag top now? Yes. It’s a hugely impractical car in the UK, where the security of some Velcro and press-studs is best described as sub-par, but, when the conditions are right, it just makes sense. It appeals on more than a practical level and isn’t that the point with classic cars?
First published in Classic Car Weekly - 10th September 2025
A Busy Summer
I try and avoid mentioning the Jimny too much on these hallowed pages as its nature as a proto-classic can be a little divisive. But as a modern classic or to purloin the phrase from our sister title, a Practical Classic, it’s served me incredibly well over a busy summer and is well worth some written praise at this point.
The biggest job that the car tackled was a shopping trip. It’s no secret that in March I drove my MG into a river and then set about sourcing a new engine for it. The end result of this saw me finding a replacement unit down in Cornwall. Which wouldn’t be an issue if I lived vaguely close to the county, but I don’t. Instead, I loaded up the plucky truck with my toolbox, a flask of coffee and hit the road at 5am, listening to Ant Anstead’s Cops and Robbers, well worth a read. The run down to Cornwall saw me well along the M4 before 9am and deep into Cornwall by midday. Loading the engine into the back of the Jimny was a straightforward affair. The unit was still slung from the engine crane used to pluck it from the donor car. So, with the arm pumped right up, I backed the car up with the rear door open and a crate for it held, ready to scoop it up.
Fully laden with engine and beer
Pay no attention to how squatted the rear suspension is, just admire the Cornish vista
In a strange ballet of manhandling and shoving, the engine was soon plopped into the box and slid back into car on the folded-down rear seats. With my overnight bag and toolbox packed in around it, I lashed the lot down and set off for a petrol station to brim the tank once more. On the empty run down the little 1.3 inline four had proven to be quite thirsty, despite having filled it with premium, 32.12mpg. Yes, I’m the sad sort of fella who works that out and keeps a spreadsheet. Now loaded down and squatting heavily, I set off north once more, my stomach rumbling for some sort of lunch, a local pasty maybe. A coastal schlep provided me with the desired sustenance and a stop at the nearby Sharps brewery, a prime chance to stock up on their ales. “You take that east of Cornwall, that’s bootlegging” I thought to myself in a reproduction of a lower-stakes and lower-speed Smokey and the Bandit. Mercifully, I wasn’t chased by the local constabulary all the way home.
My run back northeast wasn’t set for home, instead, it was for Bicester and the next day’s HERO Challenge 2 rally. So, en route, I swung via Somerset to pick up my navigator for the event, and together, we ploughed on to the M4, now burgeoning with Friday rush hour traffic, something that
Posing with an automotive celebrity, the Smith and Sniff Eagle Quest.
Milestone snapped by passenger
wouldn’t be helped by the incoming storm. As the traffic cleared, the rain and hail thundered down. The M4 was soaked in the deluge and the visibility was reduced to mere feet, though I will say, I was grateful for the additional ballast in the Jimny, pressing the rear tyres into the road that much better. By the time I finally made it home post-rally, the Jimny had covered some 631 miles without putting a foot wrong. I hoiked the engine from the back with the forklift and let the rear suspension breathe a sigh of relief.
It wasn’t over there though. After a flat-out Friday down and up the country, it was stoked back into action on the following Monday to go up and down the country, acting as a mobile workstation at RAF Elvington to watch the Flying
Kestrel team bed in their latest round of upgrades in a bid to get their 1939 Riley Kestrel to hit 200mph. Up and down the A1, the car again thrummed away, far more parsimoniously this time, returning 39.49 mpg, not bad for something with the aerodynamic properties of a chest freezer.
July thankfully tapered off much of the car’s charging about the country with just a wedding and the Goodwood Festival of Speed to tackle. All in, I covered some 3500 miles in those two months and it never missed a beat, though that’s not to say it’s devoid of character and charm, I maintain that the Jimny will be a standout classic in its own right, in due course, though a little more Festival of the Unexceptional than Concours of Elegance. Its service is due soon, as is its next adventure, I’ll keep you posted dear reader. For now, the MG still needs work!
Originally Published in Classic Car Weekly - 22nd January 2025