Eight Years, Countless Parts and One Very Stubborn BMW 2002
Some people buy a classic car, tidy it up over a winter and enjoy it the following summer.
That wasn’t going to be my story;
My journey with this BMW 2002 began in August 2017 when I bought the car in Turkey and imported it to the UK. From a distance it looked like a decent project—something that needed work, but nothing out of the ordinary for a car approaching fifty years old.
The illusion lasted until the inspection.
The evaluation report was brutal. Rust everywhere, dangerous suspension and steering components, poorly fabricated brake lines, collapsing bearings, rotten sills, missing bushes, faulty electrics, oil leaks, filler hiding corrosion and repair work that ranged from questionable to downright frightening. At one point we even discovered part of the sill had been attached using wood screws.
That inspection was followed by what can only be described as my first “massive parts bill.”
The shopping list quickly grew to include Weber carburettors, Bilstein suspension with Eibach springs, refurbished 13-inch BBS Mahle wheels, Recaro seats, new bonnet, doors and boot lid, bumpers, carpets, Nardi steering wheel, period radio and countless mechanical components. The original plan was simply to restore and improve the car while keeping it on the road.
It soon became obvious that wasn’t going to happen.
For over a year Lee Hutchinson worked tirelessly replacing worn components, repairing rust and rebuilding the car. The more we uncovered, however, the more apparent it became that patch repairs would never produce the car I really wanted. The difficult decision was made to strip everything back to a bare shell and start again properly.
That single decision probably added years to the project.
Every panel removed seemed to reveal another surprise. Sandblasting exposed extensive corrosion throughout the bulkhead, inner sills, wheel arches, floorpans, boot floor and chassis. Previous repairs looked as though they had been carried out with whatever materials happened to be lying around, with generous quantities of filler hiding countless sins. Every time we thought we’d reached the end of the rust, another section demanded replacement.
The car quickly earned the nickname “Trigger’s Broom”—and anyone familiar with Only Fools and Horses will understand why. By the end, almost the only original metal left untouched was the roof and the section behind the dashboard.
As frustrating as it was, I never wanted shortcuts. If something wasn’t right, it came back off and was redone.
While the shell was being rebuilt, the specification of the car evolved into something much more than a restoration.
The suspension was upgraded with Bilstein dampers and Eibach springs, braking was transformed with BMW E21 323i rear disc components before eventually moving to AP Racing front brakes, the steering was rebuilt throughout, and the drivetrain received a limited-slip differential and five-speed gearbox.
The engine became a project in its own right. Originally destined to run on 40 DCOE Webers, the specification eventually outgrew them and a pair of 45 DCOEs became the obvious choice. Forged 10.5:1 pistons, an M3 oil pump, modified sump, windage tray, upgraded bearings, valvetrain components and countless other improvements were added with the aim of producing a responsive, reliable fast-road engine in the 170-180 horsepower region.
Like every long-term build, Covid didn’t help.
Work slowed dramatically during 2020 and 2021, parts became difficult to source and the project endured several long periods where almost nothing happened. During those years I probably bought enough BMW 2002 parts to build another car, including an entire donor shell from Portugal, another shell from Newcastle and even another complete 2002 with an M42 engine just to keep myself entertained while waiting.
The list of new components became almost endless—Alpina wheels, Zender spoiler, 123 Tune electronic distributor, Supersprint exhaust, leather-trimmed Recaros, E24 rear seats, custom interior, new wiring loom, upgraded cooling system and hundreds of parts most people will never notice.
There were plenty of moments where I questioned my sanity.
Every optimistic completion date came and went. Every season seemed to be another missed summer. Every time I believed we’d turned the corner, another hidden repair appeared.
Eventually I realised that after investing so much time, money and emotion into the project, it deserved to be finished by specialists who knew these cars inside out.
That brought me to Nigel and the team at Retro Engineering.
From the moment they collected the car in August 2024, progress accelerated. They completed what can only be described as the final, hugely complicated assembly phase: rebuilding the suspension and steering, restoring the wiring, fitting the interior, glass, headlining, carpets, seats, gearbox, engine, cooling system, braking system, exhaust, trim and every countless small detail that transforms a painted shell into a finished automobile.
Even then there were more changes. The Weber 40s were replaced with 45s, the AP Racing front brakes were installed, countless systems were refined and everything was painstakingly set up as intended.
Before the project was even fully complete, I finally managed to attend my first event with the car at BMW Live in June 2026. Seeing the response from fellow enthusiasts made every setback feel worthwhile.
Finally, on 11 July 2026—almost exactly eight years after the project began—the car came home.
Standing back now, it’s difficult to describe exactly what the build represents.
It’s certainly not an original BMW 2002 anymore, nor was it ever intended to be. Instead, it has become my interpretation of what BMW might have built had they continued developing the platform: a lightweight, analogue driver’s car with classic styling, modern reliability, significantly improved handling and braking, and enough performance to be genuinely exciting without losing its character.
Would I do it again?
Ask me while I’m looking at the invoices and probably not.
Ask me while I’m driving it, listening to those twin Weber 45s on full song, and the answer is absolutely.
Eight years. Countless parts. More rust than I ever imagined possible. Enough filler to build another car.
But every minute was worth it.
