By Sorrel Hoskin
Bigger is not necessarily better according to Stratford man Darryl Goble. In his eyes small is beautiful - in fact the smaller the better. Darryl and his brother Bruce collect microcars - vehicles under 1000cc - where petite is perfect.
Darryl is passionate about little cars - he's been collecting them for the past 20 years and has a shed full of them. So what's the appeal?
The beginning of microcars
After World War II while European nations slowly rebuilt shattered economies, few individuals could afford a car. Families had to get along with motorcycles or, at best, used vehicles from pre-war years. To make matters worse, fuel shortages put restrictions on how far people could travel.
As things improved and incomes began to rise, motorcyles were not enough. Europeans longed for something more substantial but still couldn't afford "real" cars.
Along came the microcar, a tiny automobile often powered by a motorcycle engine yet offering protection from the weather, along with conventional seating.
Microcars were designed for travel around cities, "shopping baskets" that could seat two or three people, were easy to park and didn't use much fuel.
Mini motors
The microcars hidden under sheets in Darryl and Bruce's shed have weird and wonderful names seemingly straight out of a storybook: Goggomobil, Isetta, Bianchina, Daffodil and Imp.
It's a shed packed with stories just waiting to be told:
There's the baby blue Ford Anglia - a little car made famous by Harry Potter - while the one in the story can fly, Darryl's little Anglia stays firmly on the ground.

Microcars galore: Darryl and Bruce Goble's shed is choka block with cars. Photo: Puke Ariki.
The BMW Isetta's front opens up to allow the driver and a passenger in -there are no other doors. "It'd be easy to park," agrees Darryl - "but not so good in an accident!"
Then there's the 1960 version of the Mr Bean car - the three wheeled Reliant Regal - this one's in royal red: "it leans a bit when you go around corners," says Darryl, "It takes a bit of getting used to…"
There are even two children's cars - a bright racing red pedal car hangs from a shelf, while a faded blue car - complete with engine - sits waiting for repair on a table.
"My kids have been after me for years to fix that one," says Darryl. "It's a real miniaturised car. Have you ever watched Heart Beat the TV programme? They use Valaset motorbikes - the engine in this car has come from a bike like that."
The story goes that a panel beater built the little car - complete with cut-down steering wheel, child sized leather clad seats, speedometer and rev counter, and teeny wheels - for his kids.
The Fiat Multipla: "I reckon they're quite cute- there's not too many of them around. The Italians used to use them as taxis."
The Daf Daffodil: "it's got no gear lever - it's run by a belt drive, you just go and gradually the car gets faster."
A Goggomobil 400: "yes that's its real name!" This one is a little red coupe and has "Noddy" and Big Ears" painted on either side.

Teeny tiny: a pedal car perches on a shelf. Photo: Puke Ariki.
"How about this for windows in a car?" laughs Darryl, pointing to a yellow 1968 Mitsubisihi Colt with windows that look like they should be above the kitchen sink at home - not on a car. "I can't believe it - it's bloody weird - they need a set of frilly curtains!"
The little pink Suzuki 360 that looks like it belongs in a child's toy box is Darryl's favourite microcar "it's just cute".
In all there's around 20 cars squeezed into the shed - there'd be room for plenty more, Darryl reckons, if they got rid of the larger cars that stick out like sore thumbs.
A 1928 Austin has been made into a campervan: a towering wooden panelled body with peeling blue paint. Sun bleached curtains at the windows hide an interior that could do with a bit of TLC.
Then there's Darryl's first ever car - the 1925 Dodgo Tourer with a Model T two speed diff. "I got Dad to buy it for me - it cost about $10 - and we took it home to drive over the farm with."
There's enough work restoring the combined cars to keep him busy for years says Darryl. But he'd still like to buy more. It's the thrill of chase - finding a car hidden in someone's shed - that appeals to the Stratford jeweller. "The excitement is just going and picking them up I think."
Plans are in the pipeline to open a museum of little cars, and memorabilia - Darryl's also into collecting lawnmowers, tractors and "anything else that catches my eye."
What does his wife think of all this collecting? "Well - it keeps me off the streets!"