Last year my husband and I celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary.
It turns out, I’m not the only one with whom he’s been in a committed relationship during that time.
For the past sixteen years, my husband has been having an affair.
Not with another woman, but with a rusting, de-registered shell of a 1964 split-screen Kombi. She entered our lives unexpectedly, discovered hidden away in a shed in Pukekohe like some long-lost relic of a bygone era. And just like that, she was trailered back to Taranaki, claiming her spot in our garage and, more notably, in my husband’s heart.
At first, I was patient, understanding even. Relationships, especially ones of this magnitude, take time. She wasn’t in a good way and her bodywork had definitely seen better days. I had nothing to worry about—or so I thought—but she managed to seduce him with her lace-like panels of rust. There were evenings when my husband would disappear into the garage, only to emerge hours later looking somewhat grubby and very satisfied with himself. In those early years, the Kombi was sordidly stripped back to her bare bones. There’s no mechanical nook or cranny that my husband’s hands haven’t touched with his greasy fingers. Occasionally, I would catch him watching videos. YouTube became the go-to resource for all things restoration. The Kombi, with her corroded charm and endless needs, was the other woman in our relationship. She demanded time, money, and devotion that had once been mine.
It went on for years … until a new business we started swallowed up both our time and money.
The Kombi sat in the garage. Her neglected body was a silent but stubborn presence in our lives. Sometimes, I’d look at her, wondering if she’d ever be more than a dream my husband refused to give up on. There were arguments about her but somehow she always stayed.
Six years later, we closed the business and my husband re-kindled his relationship with his dust-covered mistress. He turned to her with a renewed passion. The restoration began again in earnest, and the old girl began to transform.
There were upgrades — because of course, she deserved the best. A larger engine so she could climb hills with ease. Better steering, wheels, and brakes for her safety. A fresh, eye-catching respray. She even got an expensive bamboo roof-liner that took over two years to arrive from California! I can’t even get a new kitchen top without intense negotiations, but for her? Anything.
In spite of everything, I began to admire the transformation, helping with the project, adding my own ideas and features. It was, after all, a project that we had dreamed of together, once. Maybe, just maybe, she could become part of our family.
We agreed that she needed a name. I suggested ‘Lottie’—appropriate really, given that she’d taken a ‘lottie’ time, a ‘lottie’ money, and a ‘lottie’ patience.
By mid-2024, paperwork was filed. Not divorce papers, but the documents needed for Lottie to be certified and re-registered. She was finally roadworthy. Her new life had begun and with it, a new chapter in ours. I started to realise that Lottie is more than a restored van—she is a conversation starter, a joy-bringer, and, dare I say it, a symbol of resilience and love.
So now, when we go on weekend drives around the region, people smile, wave, and beep their horns as we pass by. Strangers approach us and share their own Kombi stories. One particularly memorable encounter happened when we took Lottie to her first car show in Inglewood. An elderly lady walked up to Lottie, gazing at her with misty eyes. “I had one just like this in the ‘60s,” she said. “Drove her all across Europe and down into Lebanon. They were the best times of my life.” We listened as she recounted stories of magnificent road adventures and the freedom that only a Kombi could bring. At that very same show and to our surprise, Lottie even managed to earn herself a “Best-in-Show’ accolade. Whilst it was special to have my husband’s efforts recognised, it’s more special to see the reactions she gets from others. Even I have to admit that it feels good to see her gleam in the sunlight, her paintwork reflecting amazed expressions of young and old alike. In fact, it seems Lottie’s presence in my life has become a source of pride rather than rivalry.
Lottie’s gathering her own following on Instagram @Lottie_the_Kombi, where her travels are posted for posterity. Road trips are planned and adventures are to be had. As for my husband’s affair with Lottie? Let’s just say I’ve come to terms with it. And truth be told, I’ve fallen for her too.
