So with about $5000 in the kitty, it had to be a 1973 peel-me-a-grape-purple Leyland P76. With dragway mags, T-bar auto, 4.2-litre V8, dual fuel it's a real head turner.

Then add to that the fact you can fit a couple of program directors in the boot and still have room for some giveaways and it is the ultimate promotional vehicle.

When I was a kid, a bloke down the road had a Leyland P76 and everyone thought he was a wanker – and he was, but his car was all right. They're roomy, they fly, and their boat-like power steering lets you steer with your knees while you're taking a vanilla slice out of a paper bag.

It also has carpet, which offers you absolutely no assistance when you're trying to reverse-park the bastard.

One of the real problems is the dual fuel. The 18-year-old promotion dudes still can't get their head around using the LPG to fill up the car.

Thankfully there's always a friendly cab driver smoking nearby who is always prepared to lend a hand at the bowser.

We bought the car from a guy in Queensland who was selling it because his missus made him. What a surprise. He was a member of the Leyland P76 car club, which gives him a licence to bore you with stories about the history of the Leyland P76 which, despite its being car of the year in 1973, is maligned as one of the worst cars in automotive history.

He also talks about growing banana passionfruits, which is only slightly less interesting to hear about.

On the road, the P76 gets a range of comments from "Can I have a sticker" to "It was a piece of shit then and it's a piece of shit now." But few can argue that with its bucket seats and bucket boot, it's a piece of Australian automotive history.