On my first trip to India, there were no imported cars. It was India’s Ambassador or nothing. Taxis were Ambassadors. Private cars were Ambassadors. It was like the food, you ate curry or you didn’t eat back then.
So as I rounded one of the final corners in the Botanic Gardens, what did I spy but an Ambassador, or should I say Classic Ambassador. Some loving owner must have restored it because it was in perfect condition.