You may recall that we at Car Lust once named the 1990-1994 Toyota Camry as the most boring car in the world--not because we thought it was a bad car, but because its ubiquity, and metronomic dependability deprived it of the character that defined the generally less-well-engineered cars for which we lust. To quote:
"It is a mark of my irrationality that I would prefer something like a Fiat Spider to a Camry. In every quantifiable way, the Camry is superior. Actually, it's crushingly superior. But there's nothing rational about Car Lust. Every fiber of my being longs for a Fiat Spider. Every fiber of my being rebels at the Camry."
Among Camrys, the 1996-2001 generation is easily my least favorite. Camrys before 1996 and after 2001 were at least pleasingly attractive in a highly anonymous way, but this generation always struck me as unnecessarily ugly and undesirable. The scowling face, but unlovely profile, the pinched rear tailights--I find this car vastly less attractive than the lovely 1994-1997 Honda Accord or even many of the traditional "ugly car" punching bags such as the Gremlin, Pacer, or Maverick. This Camry didn't perform particularly well, it wasn't particularly nice to drive, and it really had nothing else other than value and size to set itself apart.
Given that, envision my disappointment when I discovered that the full-size car we had rented for our Maui vacation was a thoroughly disheveled 2000 Toyota Camry with 135,000 miles on the clock and about three times as much abuse as you'd normally expect given that figure.
We had received an amazing rate from this local rental agency, so I had assumed we'd be dealing with older rental cars--but this Camry was a bit more woebegone than I had expected. The front and rear clips showed evidence of repeated accidents, the steering wheel made strange noises when turned, the exhaust smoked at start-up, the hood was bowed up slightly, the trunk latch mechanism failed halfway through our trip, and the drivetrain made all kinds of strange sounds. To add insult to injury, it smelled of mildew and its gas tank was almost bone dry.
Several years ago, Top Gear UK tried to kill the legendarily unkillable Toyota pickup truck by subjecting it to smashing, burning, total saltwater immersion, and building demolition--the pickup famously survived everything Top Gear could dish out. Well, it appeared as if our Camry had been subjected to a more subtle but no less vindictive campaign of abuse consisting mostly of neglect and disregard. I would not be at all surprised to learn that this had been a salvaged vehicle repaired just enough to serve as rental transportation.
Unsurprisingly, I loathed this car. It consistently sounded and felt as if it was about to come apart, it smelled vaguely of coolant, and the driving experience had absolutely no attraction to the enthusiast. It wasn't remotely lust-worthy.
Despite myself, though, I found myself respecting this Camry just as Top Gear came to respect its Toyota pickup. This Camry had obviously been neglected and abused and was as scabby as any car I've driven; yet it served us faithfully during our two-week trip and held up to all of the abuse we could heap on it. It just wouldn't die, and I think that goes a long way towards explaining Toyota's popularity in the United States.
Interestingly enough, I had the opportunity to check out the rest of this agency's fleet, and there was only one car in that godawful lot that I would have preferred to this Camry--it was a 2006 Nissan Altima 3.5 V-6, which in that context looked like a Ferrari 458 Italia. Likewise, when we returned to the mainland and I had the opportunity to drive a 2011 Chevy Impala V-6 from a mainstream rental company, it felt like a Rolls Royce. That says everything about the rental Camry, I think.