It was an early start today, packing a wet tent, in the rain, into a tiny car. Although advice from a colleague years ago means our tent packs up as a single unit and all of our stuff is from cycle touring, so we are pretty slick and it all goes in the car ok. Just.
There’s at least two cars with four folk in, loads of cars with roof boxes, Mercini have an E class estate with a WINE DRAWER.
The big Jag XJ we spoke to on the start line has three guys who finished swapping their engine and gearbox in the early hours of Saturday morning (for a Sunday morning departure). The split screen bus is largely full of spares but they blew their diff trying to get over Hardknott and pulled a Joni Mitchell (calling for a big yellow taxi to take them away). They claim they will be back but they’ll have to fix it and then catch us so I doubt we will see them again.
The T2 isn’t fairing much better, electing to go round the passes to save their clutch…
The route is only revealed during morning briefing each morning as Marko (our leader) prefers to keep it all as a surprise, but it’s all on the satnav if you want to look so Fraser had a quick peek before we left to see where we are going, and we arrange to meet him tonight for dinner with his folks in Hythe (10 minutes from the campsite) and his parents entertain us with tales of a life with Baroness Thatcher…
So we are heading for the white cliffs today via the British Motor Museum. I mean I wasn’t going to bother going in, we have a dinner appointment to make, but it’s cars. And I really like cars… We did a whistle stop tour whilst Brian (who’s doing it with his daughter in a 1.4 Megane convertible) got caught by a Jaguar enthusiast and was stuck for nearly 3 hours.
A car for Woody
“He makes me do all the motorway driving whilst he sleeps.”
No splittie at the campsite, and the Bora has also called a Joni, but the owner has sprinted home to Barrow and returned with his c30. The T2 struggled to climb the slight slope into the campsite with a lunched clutch but they reckon that the splittie owner is going to help them change it in a lay-by near Calais…
The T2 drivers are from near Hapton, which is where Kathy was from and there was a distant connection!
In which an unsuccessful attempt is made to be an IT whizz.
In what would become a feature of the trip we arrived on time! Then misread the satnav, and missed our turn.
A bridge we were not supposed to cross.
We’d no idea what to expect, I mean we have friends who’ve done it, but their info was just “it’s ace”. The meet point was next to the bridges in Soith Queensferry so we wander round looking at the other entrants, one chap has ruined a perfectly nice Corrado, there are two Transporters that I doubt will make it to England. A flush of Volvo estates, big Mercs and Audis. Some of the competitors were in fancy dress and our leader, Marko, is dressed as an Edwardian fop, I’m not sure sure even now whether this was fancy dress, or just how he dresses.
Suzy has rocked up to see us off with one of her pals, and 3/4 of Clan Ford have also appeared to wave us off! I offer to help setup someone’s satnav (I mean how hard can it be) because he said he was a mechanic and I was hoping we’d be friends, for when the MX5 breaks down. I’d even brought the macbook exactly so I can make myself useful as there’d been some chat on the FB page tha folk were struggling to set up their Garmins. Mine was genuinely incredibly straight forward, so I figured they were all just a bit slow.
I do not manage to setup anyone’s satnav. I just got lucky with mine.
Anyway, driver briefing was short and put us all into groups of four cars – all connected by our CB radios and off we went. Heading South.
The Mazda was exceptional in the Lakes, it’s so small and the steering is so direct you can position it exactly on the road and the lack of power never really rears its head. Overtaking is an issue as it’s hardly got any power, but the Lakes is so busy it doesn’t really matter what you are in – unless you’re on a bike you’re stuck in traffic. Although the Mazda has an ace up its sleeve if you’re really cheeky, pull the right hand stalk, up the lights come and we look like a 60s race car. On a charge. Both Wrynose and Hardknott were despatched with aplomb, although whilst we occasionally scraped he exhaust we saw some of the bigger stuff taking chunks out of the tarmac with their sumps…
Dinner in a pub in Grange, then a campsite on a slope.
OK We definitely should have got a bigger car. The boot is packed solid. The tent is on the back shelf. We do not have coats. We have no tools. I’ve taken out the spare wheel because I’ve needed to bring my shoes. We will rely on the kindness of strangers, and American Express. I’m ignoring how much oil the car is using.
Fitting the CBConfucius say “Driver with one GPS always knows location, driver with two, never sure.”Shiny, but only from a distance.Shake down to MoscowThe other Rome. (Is it really older?)Fully be-stickered and posing, like a cheeky minx.
“Yeah I know, your name and a small picture of you comes up on the screen of my phone when you call. We’ve talked about this.” says Carl.
“I’m scene setting, Carl, I think you know that.” I reply.
“Alright Charlie Kaufman, what can I do for you?”
“Well you know we’ve talked about doing a banger rally.” I ask.
“Oh yeah! Do you think we’ll manage it this year?”
“Errm no, I’m going to do one with Millie instead.”
“Oh.” He says, sounding slightly disappointed. “Fine.”
“So I’m looking for some car advice, again” (Carl is my pre-eminent car advisor, and the proprietor of Morris Manta Garage Services[2]). “It needs to be either 20 years old or less than one thousand pounds. What do you think about a 2003 S-Type Jaguar? A/C, massive boot, 400bhp, Millie and I would look like Withnail and I!”
“Well off the top of my head two things spring to mind,” he replies,
You and your straight edged daughter driving to Rome are not in any way going to resemble Richard E Grant and Paul McgGnn’s drug and wine fuelled odyssey around the Lake District.
And secondly I’ve got just the car for you…”
Chapter 1
First Encounters
We’d had Lotus’ for years but, back in 2010, one of them had done that thing that they do and blown a head gasket. This time, rather than being at the mercy of their long suffering dealer network and their inconsistent selection of occasionally shabby courtesy cars, I decided to buy a banger from Autotrader, with a loose plan to sell it once the Elise was fixed.
It was quite fun, flicking through the adverts, trying to find something we actually wanted to drive until finally I happened on a Mk 1 (aka NA) MX-5. Quite low miles but a torn roof and, well, the middle of a British winter is not the best time to sell a two seater with only a battered tarpaulin keeping it dry. So the car was purchased for the princely sum of £1000 and we drove down from Glasgow to Wythenshawe on the outskirts of Manchester to pick it up.
Carl and I met a few decades earlier at a party and have been friends ever since – as he lives just north of Manchester with his partner, Kathy, we stopped in for tea on the way home. “Oh” he says, walking round the new purchase whilst sucking in through his teeth in the way of all second hand car dealers (they can’t help themselves)[3], “Kathy’s always wanted one of these, how much did you pay for it?”
“£1500,” I say, quick as a flash,
“OK.” He says, “I’ll take it off you when you’re done with it. And fixed that roof. And it’ll need new tyres. And a service and an MOT.”
“Alright!” I say pleased with my splendid haggling skills which will see me only about £750 out of pocket.
We ran the car until the summer, at the time Millie was only 6 and she loved that car. Loved getting all bundled up for the school run with the roof down, and there’s always something nice about a car with so much sheer character but that you don’t really care about. When the Elise was finally fixed we nearly kept the MX-5, but didn’t have room for it and now that summer had arrived Kathy was all excited about getting it.
Kathy loved the car EVEN MORE than our 6 year old daughter but sadly, 2 years later, and just 3 months after her and Carl were married, Kathy lost her fight with cancer.
Chapter 2
Resurrection Tale
For the last fifteen years that MX5 has sat, loved but unused because, it turns out, even car dealers get attached to cars. But Carl’s a Manta guy and doesn’t drive it, it just gets moved from the dusty corner of one workshop to the dusty corner of another.
“But you’ve kept it inside yeah?” I ask. “Oh Yeah., Inside. Definitely isn’t all rusty and in need of a new hood. But it could with a few bits and pieces. Brakes, tyres, a new hood, bit of welding, some paint, a head gasket. Other than that it’s as good as when you sold it me.” he tells me. “Wouldn’t we be better in a Jag, With A/C and a massive boot?” I ask. “What did Millie say when you mentioned the Jag?” coimes the reply. “Umm she looked sad. And made a sign with her hands which I think was supposed to signify the raising up of pop-up headlights.” “There you go then. Look anything you get at this price point will need a few bits, and you know the history of this car.” Lancashire’s top Opel Manta expert continues. “I know it hasn’t moved for a decade, and before that I drove it for six months. And I’m an idiot.” I reply whilst my head is full of images of twenty pound notes flowing out my account.
“Yeah see, provenance. Look joking apart, Kathy genuinely loved the car and we’d have loved to have taken it to Europe but we never got the chance. You know I couldn’t bring myself to sell it, but giving it to Millie – that feels right. Like it’s going home.”
“Selling it to Millie. Or to you. For the avoidance of doubt there will be money changing hands. From you to me.”
So we are going to try and drive this thing to Rome, for 2 weeks camping with my now adult daughter. And I’ll try and write about it to encourage folk to give some cash to Pendleside Hospice, who looked after Kathy at the end, you can here. But don’t feel obliged, we are driving there anyway and writing this entirely for our own entertainment.
[1] I’d like you to imagine Carl’s phone makes the same noise as Jim Rockford’s in the eponymous TV series.
[2]For all your Opel Manta needs. Use code MX52ROME* for 10% off at checkout.
*Carl writes – I do not recognise this code. I do not offer discounts. But find me on social media if you want to chat about Mantas.
[3] Who also features in the prologue! Although can you ever actually be friends* with a car dealer? Acquaintance perhaps? Because if everything for sale then everyone’s a customer.
*Carl writes – What! I’ve known you for nearly FORTY YEARS! You were best man at my wedding!!!
[4] Carl visibly twitched* when I said this, a spasm that engulfed his whole body.
*Carl adds – I accept that even reading this back I did suffer a minor stroke.
