Car Mania
by Nick Foulkes18 August 2010
I must say that I thought I had been cured of car-sickness.
I don’t mean transport induced nausea, but rather my weakness for pouring vast sums of money into wholly unsuitable motor vehicles.
In my usual fashion I began my infatuation with expensive metal before I could drive, when I bought a 1968 Mercedes 280SE, a brilliant car, the sort of thing you can imagine a dictator like Papa Doc Duvalier cruising around in: electric sun roof, central locking, thin black Bakelite steering wheel of dimensions that would not have been out of place on the Titanic and a similarly commanding presence on the road, coupled with an equally impressive drain on the finances. And while I did not hit any icebergs I seem to recall it came into contact with many other things.
The fact that I didn’t hold a driving licence I saw as but a trifling consideration.
I spent many thousands keeping that car in as close to showroom condition as I could, but eventually I threw in the towel and called it a day. From now on I was going to run something altogether more practical. That is when I got the Bentley, to be accurate the first of my Bentleys: after ten days I piled all four corners of it into a tourist coach, after losing control of it in the wet – then merest hint of moisture on the road would cause it to behave rather skittishly and demonstrate all the roadholding of a large wardrobe or grand piano on ice.
The second Bentley did last a couple of years longer and did I love that car, although once again it had an unfortunate and disconcerting magnetism when it came to fellow road users. Getting rid of it was a real wrench, but it was at a time when I was running out of money…by which I mean I was running out of it at a faster rate than I am today.
Still, I cannot see a Bentley to this day without experiencing a poignant twinge of regret that I sold it. Much as Evelyn Waugh said of a good cigar, even the most futile and frustrating day seemed altogether less enervating when viewed from behind the wheel of a two ton Bentley hurtling from 0-60 in under six seconds. It was the ultimate motoring experience, a little like being propelled through the sound barrier in a small stately home, in fact it was a good deal more comfortable than many stately homes as I had the whole thing, including the boot (and no I am not exaggerating), covered in ankle skimming rugs of silky soft sheepskin. Rather sadly I promise myself that I will reconnect with a car bearing the winged B in time for my midlife crisis, and with the way that time has of creeping up on one it is looking like a promise I will be unable to keep.
Anyway for the last few years my daily drive has been a Pashley, which is about as heavy as my Bentley and, although not quite as fast, has made contact with fellow road users on occasion. Three years of two wheeled pedalling passed and I thought that I was free of my automotive obsession…and then I went to spend a weekend with my friend Gino Macaluso in Tuscany.
Gino is an all round great guy: proprietor of Girard Perregaux, one of the very few true top manufactures in the world of haute horlogerie, and a man of immense cultivation and erudition. Among his many accomplishments, is that he was a rally Champion during the 1970s, and he has what I believe is the most significant collection of Group B rally cars in the world. However it was not those nor Miura, nor his R Type, nor even his Bizzarrini that I found myself coveting, but his Mini Moke, or rather his daughter Anna’s Mini Moke. Anna is a fashion designer in embryo and has excellent taste in cars.
I love the Moke, it speaks to me of the Sixties of Flower Power, Cuban heeled Chelsea boots and all that. It had been developed as a light military vehicle that could be parachuted into battle zones, the only thing was that given the minimal ground clearance, it was only of any use if one happened to be fighting a battle on a bowling green…eventually it did see active service as the vehicle of choice of the Macau constabulary and in sundry James Bond films.
Anyway back to Tuscany, Gino took me and my sons for a spin around the local hill towns in the Moke and we loved it – the rudimentary Meccano-level engineering only adding to the charm.
As a result I now find myself once more in the grip of my car mania…well at least I can console myself with the fact that when I get my Moke it won’t be quite as thirsty as the Bentley was.
Tags: Bentely, Girard Perregaux, Mercedes, Mini Moke
I recently learned that Tyler Brule, the genius behind Monocle, has launched a summer newspaper, provocatively announcing it as an anti-i-pad device. At first I was a little put out that Tyler had launched a newspaper, as a couple of years ago I too had a hand in launching a newspaper for my friend Charles Finch.