I thought I could do it. I even mentioned to my dad how I was thinking of living without a car.

He immediately poured scorn on the idea. “You use it every day – it would make life very difficult if you didn’t have one.”

Yet I thought the opposite. We know a couple of car-free families and they mange, using buses, occasional car hire, lifts and, of course, their feet.

So, with the MOT looming and my car having more corrosion than the Titanic, acrid emissions to rival China and a tendency to conk out under 5mph, I seriously contemplated getting rid of it.

Off it went to the garage, and because I’d resigned it to the scrap heap, I didn’t have the usual sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I was surprised when they rang to say it had failed, but if I left it with them for a few days it could rise from the ashes at not too great a cost.

So I did a U-turn and agreed to have it fixed. I’m glad I did. Those car-free days changed my mind about a possible car-free future.

With the children on holiday, we had far fewer commitments than usual, but we must have trudged 3,000 miles between their friends’ houses, most of it in the rain.

Dropping my daughters off at point A and B meant using three different bus routes – a logistical nightmare that took more than two hours. In the car it would have taken 30 minutes.

Buses don’t jump to your tune, and arriving 40 minutes before a child’s party ended meant hovering around on a damp street corner, getting odd looks from passing motorists.

Driving to the supermarket means there is no restriction to the amount of groceries you can take home – I struggled to lug three full carrier bags the half mile to the bus stop, and home at the other end – and I forgot the milk, but couldn’t pop back as I would do in the car.

Plus there’s the cost – the bus fares added up to quite a bit of cash – far more than I’d have spent on petrol.

Being green-at-heart, I hated hearing my daughters asking, in pleading tones, when the car would be fixed. And I hated myself for feeling elated when the call came to collect it. Having a car at your disposal is a luxury and I realise that not everyone is in a position to own one. Even a banger like mine is liberating.

“Not having a car is like losing a limb,” a colleague said when I mentioned it at work.

Not quite – but I knew what she meant.