This is it, the van that moved Britain. About five-million Transits have been sold since its introduction in the 1960's. There can't be many of us who haven't used the old girl for life's big events: going off to university, say, or moving house.
(Pity we don't have them in SA - though maybe not, considering what happens further down this story.)
It's a crucial cog in the workings of the nation but we all forget that when one comes looming in the rear-view mirror. When all you can see is his beer gut, old sweet wrappers and a Sunday Sport on the dash, White Van Man is easy to stereotype. So I thought I'd step into his shoes.
First, though, a history lesson. The first Transit was built in 1965 at Ford's Langley plant, where the war-winning Hawker Hurricane had been produced, though they now make them in Hampshire, not far from my place (Transits, not Hurricanes).
From the start, it was a nice-looking vehicle: do a Google image search for 'Mark 1 Transit' for a hit of nostalgia. With a wider track and better balance than existing British vans, they quickly caught on.
By the 1970's the Transit had achieved cult status, aided by a rumour (at least I think it was a rumour) that 95 percent of all robberies involved one. When I think of Bodie and Doyle leaping into a Capri to chase a gang of masked blaggers, nine times out of 10 it was a Transit they were after.
So, ideally, I'd have taken this down to London's Docklands to drive at high speed through some cardboard boxes, but with a load of skyscrapers now in the way I took a different tack and invaded France instead.
I had work to do over there anyway so taking the van was a chance to show the Frenchies what they're missing. Unlike the Germans, Chinese and every other industrialised nation, the French don't use Transits: L'Homme Van Blanc drives a Renault, Peugeot or Citroen. What a chump - or so I confidently thought.
You see, as I rolled down the ramp at Calais, I knew I was driving not just a new and improved, seventh-generation Transit with satnav and parking sensors (a brilliant thing), but a SportVan edition, one of only 80 in this colour combination.
White is the colour of choice for all Transits but not many get lairy blue stripes over the bonnet, an oversized wheel at each corner, spoilers, skirts and flashy twin exhausts. At £26 590 (R293 000), a SportVan is nearly six grand more than a standard Transit 260, but its 2.2-litre turbodiesel generates 101kW instead of the usual 63.
FITTING THE MOULD
It's mostly about the kit, though. This is one luxurious load-lugger. Most Transits I've seen had seven years of pie crusts and Mars bars ground into the cloth seats and more cabin noise than a Second World War bomber. By contrast, this is quiet, air-conned and comfy, with power windows and mirrors, cruise control, leather seats and shiny metal bits here and there.
Plus, 12V power sockets adorn every cupboard and cubbyhole (of which there are many, plus a table), so you never have to take your eyes off the road to reach your tea-making facilities. Sorry, I mean phone charger.
Driving this, you quickly fit a certain mould. As I took off down the toll road I left my chef's standards behind and filled the cab with Kit Kats, Mars bars and soft drinks.
There are plenty of cup-holders and tool bins to help with this. On the road it drove really well, the wide track and low-profile tyres combining to give a very car-like feel. It pulls smartly up through the six gears, the chunky leather gearstick set high on the fascia like in a Fiat 500.
MUNCHING UP THE AUTOROUTE
The factory-installed satnav is a 125mm colour 'FX', one I couldn't get to grips with at all (luckily, I'd brought my own TomTom), but the sound system is great. As the kilometres clocked up, a broad smile spread across my face, not from all the sweets but the way this thing was to drive: it's great. I was planted in the middle lane for hours, munching up the autoroute with no hassle.
Until, that is, a small noise appeared somewhere round my knees. At first it sounded like a bike pump, then it was more of a pop gun, before developing into a fully fledged, get-the-hell-off-the-road banging.
So I pulled into a service station and jumped out to have a look, as all the Twingos and Picassos I'd been overtaking for the past two hours came whistling past.
I popped the bonnet but couldn't see anything wrong, so I got on all fours for a look underneath - nothing - then went round the back, inside, on top and down each side trying to work it out.
The engine started fine and ran without complaint at idle but as soon as I put it in gear it was like a horse with emphysema.
CHUGGING ON REGARDLESS
And that's when I realised the turbo must have blown. The 'Sport' in this SportVan, the secret of all its power, gone - 250km from the Channel and 500km from my house. Brilliant. Let's just say those sweets and French pastries I'd collected came in very useful as I limped back onto the road with a top speed of 80km/h. But the best was yet to come.
As I crawled along, using language that would turn a White Van Man, well, white, the gearbox went: first third, then fifth, leaving me hugging the slow lane like a barge holed below the waterline, now being passed not only by Twingos and Picassos but by caravanning Belgians and, I swear, a steamroller.
I pulled into my drive at 3am, crashed out, woke up and looked out of my window, and you know what?
My love of Transits hadn't dimmed one bit. Like 'Dad's Army' or Les Dawson's piano-playing, it's brilliant even when it doesn't work.
In fact, I think falling apart and chugging on regardless makes it just about the perfect British vehicle for these times. Now please stand for the national anthem.
TECH SPEC
Price:
£26 590 (R293 00).
Engine:
2.2-litre four-cylinder turbodiesel.
Power:
101kW.
Torque:
350Nm at 1800-2400rpm.
Top speed:
175km/h
Transmission:
Six-speed manual.
Load capacity:
890kg, 6.5 cubic metres.
Standard equipment:
18" alloys, antilock brakes with electronic brake pressure distribution, electronic stability programme with brake assist, six-disc CD/radio, aircon, cruise control, power windows and heatable mirrors, side skirts, extended wheel arches, auto lights and wipers, load-area protection kit.
Optional extras:
Satnav (£945), leather seats (£800), rear parking sensors with bumper step (£200).