A Kiss from the Past: Céline and Muxu, Her Red Volvo 240

More than twenty years after saying goodbye to the sky-blue Volvo 240 of her childhood, Céline found herself standing in front of another one – this time bright red, slightly worn and waiting for a new chapter. By then, she had already left her corporate life in London behind for the surf and pine forests of southwest France. Buying a 30-year-old Volvo estate might not have been the most sensible next step. But perhaps being sensible was no longer the point.

Céline, where did your story with the Volvo 240 actually begin?

It started when I was a kid. I grew up in a sky-blue Volvo 240 that my parents bought while we were living in England. My dad was a windsurfer and needed a car capable of carrying his wife, three children and an unreasonable amount of windsurfing equipment. The Volvo was perfect for the job.

Some of my happiest childhood memories happened in that car. It took us everywhere through England and France. I can still remember the little sounds it made and even the smell: faintly salty, a bit old and humid from England’s damp air. Somehow, even twenty-five years later, I still find that incredibly comforting.

And then your family returned to France, right?

Yes – and the Volvo attracted plenty of attention because it was right-hand drive! My dad also managed to surprise a few French pavements while adapting to driving on the other side of the road.

But when I was nine, my parents sold the Volvo. I was truly heartbroken.

For years, I secretly dreamed of owning one again. But I always talked myself out of it. Buying a thirty-year-old car when you know absolutely nothing about mechanics didn’t seem particularly sensible.

Looking back, that was actually a pattern in my life. I spent years choosing the sensible option: long studies, a prestigious business school, a successful corporate career, life in a big city. Everything looked right on paper, but something always felt slightly disconnected.

And then you decided to change that.

A few years ago, I left London and moved to Hossegor. It was somewhere I’d always felt drawn to, but I’d never thought it would be “reasonable” to actually live there.

That move marked the beginning of a journey back towards myself.

I bought a longboard, then a shortboard, then a skateboard. Each one felt like reconnecting with the little girl I used to be.

There was only one thing missing.

The Volvo! How did you find her?

Completely by chance.

One day, while picking up my longboard, my friend Paul saw me arrive in my sister’s ageing Renault Clio.

“You need a new car,” he said.

“You’re probably right,” I replied.

And without knowing anything about my childhood attachment to the Volvo, he simply said: “You need a Volvo 240.”

And, believe it or not, there happened to be one for sale only twenty minutes away. So we went to see it.

The moment I saw her arrive, I knew. It was love at first sight.

My heart was racing. I had butterflies in my stomach. Logic was still trying to convince me it was a terrible idea, but this time I decided to listen to my heart instead.

And that’s how I bought Muxu – a bright red Volvo 240 estate that feels like it’s smiling at me every time I see her.

Where does the name Muxu come from?

It came to me instantly. “Muxu” – pronounced “Mushu” – means “kiss” in Basque.

And she was born in 1992, just like me. Another sign that it was meant to be.

She’d already lived quite a life before finding her way to me. Muxu first belonged to a Spanish shepherd for thirty years and then to a French Basque owner for a few more.

So you bought her and immediately drove off into the sunset, right?

Not quite! Buying Muxu was the easy part.

She still needed quite a bit of work before she could pass inspection and return to the road. Two friends, Paul and Mika, who share a passion for classic cars, spent months bringing her back to life.

I bought her in June 2025 and then had to wait almost three months before I could actually drive her.

But after waiting more than twenty years to own a Volvo 240 again, another three months suddenly didn’t seem very long.

What is life with Muxu like now?

Now she’s my daily driver.

We spend our days cruising through the pine forests of southwest France, surfboards in the back, windows down, chasing waves that I often fail to catch.

She’s practical, reliable and so well suited to life by the ocean. But she’s also much more than that.

She reconnects me with childhood memories, with a sense of freedom and with a version of myself that I thought I’d lost somewhere along the way.

And she has introduced me to one of the kindest communities I’ve ever encountered.

Since sharing my story on Instagram, countless Volvo 240 enthusiasts have reached out to share their own stories and welcome me back into the Volvo family. I also love the fact that Volvo 240 drivers always wave to each other when they cross paths.

Even the official Volvo Instagram account got in touch to say that my story had touched them and to wish me many happy Volvo miles. That was very special.

Some people just can’t understand how you can become so attached to a car. What would you tell them?

She’s a reminder that sometimes the sensible option isn’t the right one. She’s a reminder to trust your instincts, follow your heart and make room for joy.

When I bought Muxu, I thought I was buying my childhood dream car. What I didn’t realise was that I was also finding my way back to myself.

Sometimes I think about nine-year-old Céline sitting in that old sky-blue Volvo, convinced she’d never get over losing it.

Turns out, she just needed a red one to find herself again.