To the Nationwide Motor Museum at Beaulieu to get part in a gentle celebration marking its formal opening 50 %-a-century in the past. A meeting of the terrific and good from the basic automobile community was addressed by Lord Ralph Montagu (whose father Edward started out the entire thing just just after the war). The scene was idyllic: a marquee surrounded by shady trees and lush lawns, girls in floaty attire and blokes in panama hats, sandwiches and bubbly beneath a ideal sky. A collecting of 1970s vehicles on the major arena looked (as Lord Montagu pointed out) substantially as the Beaulieu car park would have finished again in the day.
Beaulieu is quite respectful of its record, but it’s also a totally present day location now, with a rich array of autos (never pass up the remarkable land-pace-report-breakers) and an remarkable collection of motoring ephemera, the ideal I have at any time viewed. Just wandering its gardens on the financial institutions of the Beaulieu River is worthy of the cost of admission.
The arrival of our Alpine A110 keeps reminding me about the value of shoe-choice to driving pleasure. The ideal locale of the A110’s pedals – a big reward in a French motor vehicle – jointly with their smooth precision when utilized in anger reminds me that clog-like trainers with tractor-tread soles really don’t fit a proper car. They damage the knowledge. So I have begun carrying a pair of thin-soled footwear in the car’s entrance boot, swapping them with what I’m carrying before a journey starts. These, amused close friends have rushed to level out, are about all that will in shape into that little storage space.
And another thing…