Why I Had To Abandon My E46 BMW 330d Project Car

This is not the article I intended to write. This was supposed to be the first in a series of stories about the glorious restoration of my 2002 E46 BMW 330d Touring, in celebration of its odometer flicking over 200,000 miles.

Sure, it was shabby around the edges, but it had never, well... rarely let me down. I had a parts supplier on board to help sponsor it, and the good folks at BMW specialist Munich Legends had agreed to be my technical partner and lend some much-needed expertise.

There was just the small matter of an assessment before we got stuck in.

Two hours, quite a lot of rust, and a pair of flat tyres later, a huge eruption of smoke erupted from the back of the E46, turning the forecourt of a showroom a dense shade of grey-ish white. The universe, as it would turn out, was trying to tell me something.

As I’ve previously written about, I’ve put no small amount of time and money into this car. Far more than was sensible, in fact, but I’d hoped against hope that this would set it up nicely for the future. With all that repair work, new parts and effort, surely it would just need a cosmetic spruce up?

It’s the hope that gets you

The car’s inspection had initially seemed rather positive. The mechanic who pored over and under the E46 made impressed noises about the shape it was in, considering its 23 years and 200,000-plus miles. Sure, the canyon-like potholes on the nearby roads had promptly taken out the two right-hand tyres during the subsequent test drive – not the mechanic’s fault, but rather East Sussex County Council’s. 

Then the turbo seals chose that exact moment to spectacularly let go, ruining what had, up until then, been an unblemished record for the engine during my ownership.

Still, I was relatively upbeat. But when the final report came in, and the amount of work needed properly assessed and priced up, the prognosis darkened. To weld up the arches, the numerous holes in the floor, fix the turbo, replace the door membranes that were causing water ingress, plus the cost of new wheels and various other parts, and then the labour costs to do all that, would be expensive. Too expensive. Five figures expensive. Even with sponsorship, it was hopeless. The official advice, from people who know BMWs far better than me, was that it was time to let it go.

I was faced with a call that I probably should have made more than two years ago, when I first bought the car and found, after a similar expert inspection, that it wasn’t quite as tidy as I’d hoped. Like a Vegas gambler drunk on free booze and hopes of automotive fortune, I’d gambled, thrown money at it and, in fairness, kept winning for a good while. I put thousands more miles onto the E46, and thoroughly enjoyed them. OK, in the end, it cost more than £1 a mile before fuel, but using some convoluted maths, it was about what I’d have spent leasing a new car over the same period. It made financial sense, right? Right…?

But the winning streak is over. The odds now are higher than all the optimism I could muster, and it’s time to fold my cards. As I type this, I’ve just put down the phone to a scrappage company, who agreed to pay me the princely sum of £255 to take KF52 LZO off my hands and send it to the glorious, sweeping Bavarian roads in the sky, with a boot full of memories and a roof rack loaded with good times. It feels like putting down a beloved pet. I am sad.

Some lessons learned

What have I learned from this? Firstly, get underbody protection for your car. Sure, it’s pricey to get someone else to do it, and messy to do it yourself, but it’s the E46’s pervasive, venereal rust that’s caused the bulk of the problems, and some liberal Waxoyling by the previous owners could have dramatically lessened its decay. I did add some to its tenderest bits soon after buying it, but not enough. And it was probably too late anyway.

Secondly, have a better idea of when to stop throwing good money after bad. I was told by an expert when I first bought the car that it might not be worth saving, but in my glee at its awesomeness, I didn’t listen. In many ways, I don’t regret that decision, because me and the E46 had some great times. But in other ways – financial ways – it would have been better to lose a couple of grand then than many more grand over the following couple of years.

But the third lesson is… well, actually I don’t know what it is. Because as soon as I submit this article, I’m going back to researching what old BMW to buy next. Maybe something more upmarket, because the chances are it’ll have been better looked after and therefore definitely, positively won’t bite me in the arse again. Right? RIGHT…?