We’ve finally reached the stage where we no longer need a people-carrier — and I couldn’t be happier

Iam pleased to report that our family has successfully moved past our people-carrier era. We had been driving one since our little brood welcomed a sixth member, and, as he is now nine, we felt the time was right to ditch a vehicle which some might describe as the best reason to not have more than three kids.

Every time I see a people-carrier on the roads I generally think, ‘Sher god help us, and say a silent prayer for the owners, who, like us, were not well-off enough to get one of those massive seven-seater SUVs and so instead ended up with a car solely defined by its ability to carry an excessive amount of children’.

All cars are technically people-carriers, but only this particular type gets branded this way, because there really is nothing else of note about them. Some cars are sporty, some are compact, some are sturdy, some are slick and elegant and powerful. People-carriers carry up to seven people, and that’s about all you can say for them. They look like a car your child might make using a large cardboard box, and are considerably less fun to drive.

In a world where we all try to exude elegance and prosperity in our choices of cars, the people-carrier simply states: I am incredibly fertile, please do not tailgate. There’s no need for any stick-figure stickers on the back window to signify that this is a family vehicle as it is clearly a mass transport device — it looks like a ferry, and just as well because in the increasingly extreme weather we are having, it often is one.

I’d love to say we will miss it, but when it finally expired on a back road and was deemed unfixable, we were relieved to see the back of it. There was also something liberating in knowing that from now on, on the rare occasions that my wife and I and all four kids went to the same event, we would have to bring two cars, thus allowing me the option of leaving at my leisure, which is usually about 25 minutes after I arrive.

In the time between the demise of the people-carrier and getting a replacement vehicle, we spent six weeks as a one-car household.

I would love to say that it went swimmingly; that we cycled and walked where possible, that we saved a fortune and got fitter at the same time, but in reality we ended up living a real-life adaptation of the old riddle about the man who had to get a fox, a bag of grain, and a hen across a river. Our busy lives became an overwhelming logistical nightmare as we tried to figure out who would go where and when to collect which child or do which errand. It came as quite a shock to try and live with one car, especially as up until I started driving seven years ago, we had always been one. But driving is one of the most rewarding skills I have learned in my life and I cannot imagine life without it. Even during the six weeks

‘They look like a car your child might make using a large cardboard box’

when my wife was out in my car I felt trapped and frustrated that I couldn’t just hop in the car, chuck a couple of kids and maybe a dog in the back, and head out somewhere.

It would appear that I am not alone in my adoration of automotive transport. Last week the Economic and Social Research Institute published the results of a survey on attitudes around climate change, specifically where food and transport are concerned. The survey found that many people still don’t understand how their transport choices impact their carbon emissions, but I am at the point where I am both fully aware of and pretty OK with the carbon emissions from my car because I can see the incredible value it has brought to my life. It is one of the essential tools of parenting, up there with microwaves, TV, and Calpol.

There may come a time when we can cut down to just one car, and perhaps the transition from people-carrier to relatively normal five-person vehicle is the start of that, but we have a few more miles to go before we reach that destination.