That's what you paid for a near-perfect example not very long ago at all. These cars weren't even about keeping the patina, because they were mostly past the stage where that was possible. With these cars, it's either rat-look or full resto. And at £100K before you've done a thing, rat-look would be a very brave approach to adopt.
I have a friend normally the epitome of caution and prudence – he's a bank manager in the day job, of the old-school, dependable sort – who bought an E-type last year. It broke all the rules, being someone else's abandoned restoration in pieces, with no guarantee that all the panels matched and would fit together properly, every chance that a vital piece was missing somewhere.
He paid £35,000, figuring that with the expertise of the restoration company for which he works a day a week, replenishing the soul sucked out by the bank, he could create a fine example and maybe turn a bit of a profit. No need; almost immediately a customer of the company offered to buy it for rather more than £35K, and then commissioned its completion. It will be lovely, and everyone wins.
So everyone loves an E-type. What sort of E-type, though? Some seek to make an E-type what it originally wasn't, by fitting bits of modern machinery such as an enlarged and muscled-up engine, power steering, a five-speed gearbox, bigger brakes, air-conditioning, a super-duper stereo. Maybe the suspension geometry will get changed to alter the dynamic sensations and make the Jaguar feel more modern, less alien to those used to modern cars but who crave the E-type look. Eagle is the best-known exponent of this art, and an Eagle E-type is a beautiful thing. Robust and reliable, too.