Whos up for next year
Discussion
The following appeared in an edited version in this months Sprint, for those interested in the uneditded version, here it is, and worthy of consideration for next years diary - date still to be released.
The story.........
It seemed like a reasonable idea when a mention of the trip was first spotted in Sprint, and then again on Pistonheads, no more attention however was paid to the thought of taking a TVR to Spain in March until October 2003. A trip through Northern and Central Spain, stopping over in Lerma, Toledo, Gor, Segovia and Bilbao, taking in a Track day at Clive Greenhalgh’s Guadix Circuit was the prize.
After various e-mails regarding the cost and a draft agenda, and once work commitments were established, we sent a cheque, to someone we had never met before for a little over a thousand pounds….the question was asked by others later in the trip - why would any sane person have so much trust in someone they had never met? No one really had the answer, but even in the trips infancy most people were glad they had. The trip was organised by TVR Car club member Jasper Gilder.
When e-mails were received with the trips details, we looked to see if we recognised any names of the fellow travellers. No such luck. Would this be a black tie kind of trip? Hmmmm…we decided to keep an open mind, and if the company were too “upmarket” for us, we would do our own thing and packed accordingly.
Our trip started Friday 19th March from our home near York. The car, our new T350c had been delivered from the factory only two months prior, but some diligent work avoidance ensured the little car had 2000 very careful miles under its belt before we left. Leaving home just before lunch would give enough time for a leisurely trip to Portsmouth and allow a stop for a light lunch on the way– no such luck, the traffic was horrific. 8 ½ hours later, and no lunch stop, we arrived at the quayside in Portsmouth to find that the Pride of Bilbao’s departure was to be delayed for two hours – bad weather. Still the car had behaved impeccably on the first leg of the journey, with engine temperatures staying where they should in traffic.
A quick look around the car park identified a few TVRs but no likely suspects for ownership, not a sign of a car club logo – could it be that the company were indeed more upmarket than other TVR car club members we knew, and simply did not wish to identify their ownership on articles of clothing that weren’t branded from some French or Italian Design House? The plot thickened.
Shortly after boarding the Ferry, we located the bar and adjourned for a small libation, sufficient to aid sleep if the seas were as rough as forecast. Linda, knowing what TVR trips can be like had made a commitment to stay away from any heavy drinking sessions in an attempt to ensure the next day held vivid memories and not jaded recollections. The immortal words, “if sir purchases two large glasses of wine, the rest of the bottle is yours for free”, threw down a gauntlet that was difficult to let lie.
Three bottles later, and we had met the rest of the party travelling from the UK, several hours later we retired, still not sure of the people we had met, or how the party of TVR owners would gel – if at all. Heavy seas and force seven gales the next day restricted social interaction, but we were to learn later that two of the team were dedicated professionals and had managed to man the various bars onboard during the course of the voyage. Committed?
Thirty-three fairly uncomfortable hours past, even for the hardier sailors, before we arrived in Bilbao. The Sunday morning weather was misty and cold, as it is so often is in that part of Spain and reminded us of the weather we had left in Portsmouth –it would improve during the course of the trip, but was never one of the real talking points, other than the Snow and the Snow Ploughs…details anon. We had agreed the night before to meet within the confines of the Ferry Port and drive in convoy to the first brief stop at the services near Vitoria-Gasteiz, only 50km South of the Ferry Port. Jasper had arranged to meet up with a guy named Charlie and his girlfriend Amaya. Charlie arrived at the services in his DeTomaso Pantera only minutes after the TVRs, and was yet another new face. The cars created quite a stir at the services, eight TVRs and the Pantera, a collective 3000 bhp of exotica.
It seems that every so often something comes along in life that makes you think the world out there isn’t so bad, a trouble free day in the life of TVR ownership is one of those things. The next paragraph or so describes one other such warm event.
When Charlie arrived, and bear in mind no one in the company knew anything about the guy, except for an exchange of a few e-mails between him and Jasper, John and Andy Gray had the bonnet up on their Griff 500. The radiator had sprung a leak, and attempts to cure with a German version of a Barrs Leak type product were proving fruitless. Charlie spoke fluent Spanish and helped to find the Barrs Leak in the first instance, but when it became apparent that repair would not be immediate, Charlie sprung into action. He promptly left in his DeTomaso, went home - a two hour round trip, and collected a four seater car to transport John and Andy to a hotel in Vitoria. From that point forward, until the car was repaired two days later, Charlie and Amaya became John and Andy’s translators, travel organisers, general Mr and Miss Fixit and friends.
The couple went to great lengths to ensure the two days of lost? holiday, were kept to the absolute minimum, helping to make time away from the main group enjoyable and quite memorable for the right reasons. Tales were later recounted of cider being projected into glasses from large barrels during one of the evenings – but you know how drink can distort things!! The car was eventually fitted with a new radiator, with assistance from DHL, TVR Power in the UK, and a local garage. John and Andy have already thanked Charlie and Amaya but I think all involved with the trip would like to reiterate – Top Guys – well done and many thanks. Enough of the soppy stuff and back to the trip.
With John and Andy Gray at the services, we were down to six cars, two Chimaeras, Two Cerberas, an S3C, our own T350c, and a Green Griffith owned by John Thompson from Madrid. John had been on the ferry from Portsmouth but would leave us at the services and meet up again at the track on Wednesday. A pleasant journey ensued to the first overnight stop, less than two hundred miles from Bilbao and the picturesque town of Lerma – a beautiful Parador Hotel awaited in the old part of the town at the head of the cobbled town square, and the sun was shinning. The trip down had been steady by TVR standards, even sticking to speed limits on occasion. Two reprobates had on one occasion, dropped back a little from the main group for a short quick blast up to speeds that may well have been in excess of the speed limit, not very PC, but enjoyable. I admit to being one of the cars, the other car who’s occupants shall be named, was the Red Rose Cerbera piloted by James Haynes, and accompanied by the long suffering Michael Toone…..good fun. Sorry guys, but Dorothy need not know!
Rooms were allocated at the Hotel, cars safely parked underground and people went their separate ways, looking at the old town or relaxing after the “trauma” of the ferry crossing – by some cruel twist of fate most folk arrived in the same bar for a very controlled “few” drinks.
For those not familiar with Parador Hotels, they are a government owned chain, the standard is exceptionally high, with buildings of historic interest often being tastefully converted for Hotel use. The evening meal at the hotel was booked for 21.00 hrs, the first opportunity for the party to sit together and get to know each other. Not a Dinner Jacket in sight!! With the meal, the first of a marathon leg of Tinto consumption began for our previously mentioned dedicated professionals, and a bunch of determined hangers-on. Oh how I wished I’d given it a miss some mornings, still boys will be boys.
The meal was first class and those brave enough to have ordered Pigs Ear Soup, well done for admitting it when the dish arrived. I stuck with the Potatis Bravis, but purely down to cowardice! The evening ended in the perfect surroundings of the huge hotel reception area, the bar thankfully having closed at midnight.
Monday morning was an early start for us, leaving a few hours before the others. Linda was out on the room’s balcony looking at the sunrise when I surfaced from the shower. She had been witness to a scantily clad James doing his early morning exercises on the balcony next door, but I am pleased to be able to report that she has made a full recovery. Breakfast was excellent, the type of well displayed hot and cold buffet that you don’t want to eat because it looks like you ruined hours of a Breakfast Arrangers work – but we did!
Destination Toledo, a distance of around 250 miles by the direct route. Our trip however took us away from the autoroute and through some beautiful countryside around Segovia, Avila and El Tiembla. The early morning air was cold with frost in evidence on the fields with the mountains in the distance covered in snow. The careful drive while the T350’s oil came up to temperature, gave us both an opportunity to do a little sight seeing from the snug interior of the car. Northern Spain really is very different to the Costa’s that most people see, and at this time of the year, very colourful. The car seemed to relish the consumption of cold air combined with freely available 98 Octane Super Plus Unleaded. The roads were empty and still no sign of the often-criticised Spanish driving style – the trip was proving to beyond any expectations we may have had, the new car a joy to own.
We arrived in sunny Toledo at around 14.00hrs and the instructions on the excellent Road Book that was provided, gave quite clear instructions on how to get to the hotel. However the Spanish flair for changing road numbers, so that even the newest map is quickly out of date, seems to extend to subtle changes in Hotel names…we arrived at the hotel, another Parador 90 minutes later. This Parador was located high on a hill overlooking the old town’s red clay roofs and stone buildings quite unspoilt by modern architecture with a river twisting its way through the buildings
Jasper, Mark and Roy were just leaving to do a more detailed sight seeing trip of the town when another TVR arrived. This was a stunning blue UK registered 4.5 Cerbera, must have come on a later ferry was my first thought, but this turned out to be the Portuguese contingent – two young guys from Porto, full of enthusiasm and as usual, able to speak excellent English…I keep promising myself I will learn another language, but my excuse is I’ve not decided which one yet, Linda knows better – I’m just lazy or is that too good at doing other things that are easier?
After finding the room, unpacking and taking some panoramic shots of the town below, we made our way to the bar and it’s balcony for a light late lunch…and a few quiet beers. We had decided after the first night in Lerma, that our trip would not be about chasing around exploring each town we arrived in, but would be more focused on enjoying relaxing drives through the country, resting at each port of call - as befits our older years and of course enjoying the food, wine, fine accommodation and good company. Lunch consisted of locally cured ham and cheeses and just hit the spot. Dining in the evening was going to be late, with not unusually for Spain, restaurants opening at 20.30. We older folk are used to eating earlier so a late lunch helped.
By now, the bunch of strangers that had met on the Ferry only a few days ago, were starting to mould into a group of friends. The gathering in the Hotel bar before the meal that evening was starting to take on a more international feel with the addition of the Joaquim and Vitor from Portugal. Talk was of the drive down so far and minor suspension problems. Cars that did not normally suffer ground clearance problems during normal use were grounding out from time to time due to the full loads, and some of the undulating roads. Many of the cars had load adjustable spring seats so it would have been possible to lift them a little, but that’s not where you want the suspension to sit for a day at the track. Compromise was the order of the day, but I suspect for next year our T350 will be lifted a little for the trip after suffering the odd chirp from the tyres catching the inner wheel arches.
Nerves were also starting to creep in for some of the track day virgins present in the group, and there were quite a few. Of the company gathered, neither Raj, Ken, James, Joaquim, Vitor nor oddly Jasper had done a track day, although Vitor later admitted to having done a “little” Karting! Both Roy, Mark and myself have done quite a few of track days in the past and tried to offer some words of advice to the newcomers, but I’m not sure if the advice made things better or worse.
The evening meal again was again first class, and the Tinto Marathon continued. After the meal and a few drinks in the bar, our dedicated professionals decided it would be an ideal time to see Toledo by night, and managed to recruit the young unsuspecting Portuguese…
After a hearty breakfast, the T350 was packed and levels were checked. The T350 had not been using any water and a few previous oil checks indicated oil consumption appeared to be a round 750-800 miles per 500 ml - all was in order. The trip down to Gor was to be the longest of the three days thus far, and we decided to travel with Roy and Mark in the S3C, and Jasper in his Cerb. Reports from the Grays were filtering through, and if everything went well today, we should see them at the Hotel in Gor later that night. They would have a quite direct 550-mile trip to the hotel, so our three hundred seemed paltry by comparison.
Our day’s drive saw us pass through, some stunning countryside and entertaining twisty roads. We took the wrong way only once today so judged the drive to be quite successful, stress free and a chance for Linda to play with her Camera and Video on the way. Our next hotel was the first of the none-Paradors; it was a 3 star newly built Hotel, chosen more for its location to the track I suspect. Bags unpacked again, but this time, a chance to completely empty the car as this Hotel was to be our home for three nights.
The sight of the mountains on the on the drive down must have triggered something with Mark and Roy as well as ourselves as less than half an hour after checking into the Hotel at Gor, we were off into the Sierra Nevada’s Snow topped peaks. Mark was leading with Roy navigating. The correct tourist route to the top of the range took some finding, and at one point, we were ready to give up and try again some other time. Spirit of adventure overtook common sense and before we knew where we were, we were off on a series of mountain hairpins that made the Stelvio Pass look like a Dutch Mountain pass. Linda was so worried that she forgot to turn on the carefully mounted video camera, and we missed some wonderful shots of Gypsies at the road side shoeing horses, some of the oddest canines I’ve ever seen, with expressions that suggested we were driving the oddest cars they’d ever seen.
Yet more stunning scenery and 45 minutes later, we were at 3200 metres driving below ski lifts and looking at the ski slopes from a distance. The slopes looked to present quite a challenge, but as I intimated previously, cowardice is not seen as a vice by yours truly – no point having a yellow streak and not using it. The car coincidently clocked over to 3000 miles at 3000 metres.
The roads back down were fun, popping and banging on the overrun, the T350 seemed to be enjoying the trip as much as we were, and I have to admit to feeling a little guilty locking the car in the garage that night at the hotel while we were off to have a meal and yet more drinks it seemed to deserve more than being just “abandoned”.
Great restraint was shown that night of the holiday, one glass of wine was all that I consumed as Wednesday was track day and a desire to be alert for the new track in a new car overtook any desire to continue the Tinto marathon. Clive Greenhalgh the circuit owner met us in the bar that night, and soon we started recounting tales of motor sport and car ownership. Clive is a very knowledgeable guy, and made everyone feel welcome at the Hotel and the next day at the track.
Breakfast on Wednesday morning was served in the Hotel Bar, and I have to say Linda and I were quite surprised not to see some of the contingent actually still stood at the bar rather than sat down for breakfast. The news arrived that the Grays and the Griff 500 checked into the hotel some hours before at 04.00 hours, and that the car was repaired to everyone’s satisfaction.
One by one the cars left for the circuit, some five minutes down the dual carriageway. The weather looked all confused first thing, but by the time we arrived at the circuit, the sun was shining, and worried faces started to appear as people got a sight of the track from the Pits area. The more experienced track day addicts did not envy those about to do their first track day and I was starting to think about that well used yellow streak, new car, strange track and all that……
Once all had arrived at the Track, and car contents were emptied into the pit garages, Clive gave a talk about the circuit and some advice on how to drive it. I have been to many such drivers’ briefings, and I must say this was one of the easiest to understand and informative talks I’ve been to. The main point was to take it easy, learn the way round, and be careful; the circuit is heavy on brakes. Clive offered one to one advice and some tuition throughout the day for those struggling to learn the circuit, and those who maybe just felt uncomfortable about their circuit driving technique.
Two groups then set about following carefully driven road cars around the circuit that would, with the help of pre-positioned marker cones, provide further guidance on the “correct lines”. Five or six laps following the car, and I felt confident that I should have an idea about the lines by lunchtime. It was a very technical circuit, but not flat or featureless, so easier to remember the corners. Back to the pits to gather my thoughts, and a look at the circuit map that had been handed out, some extra air in the tyres, and off we went on the first of many steady laps. The track started to make sense after an hour or so, and by the end of the day, I’m sure I had maybe 20% of it well and truly sorted….The highlight of the day was generally everybody having fun, no incidents of any great note, a few spins although one spinning Chimaera had Clive a little baffled as to how it had spun and stayed on the track, congratulations were in order for car control!
Another two TVRs joined us through the course of the day Nick Wadham in an original Grantura, one of only ten imported to Spain, and at the other extreme, Philip Leslie in a very nice Tuscan S from the Marbella region. A twin turbo 911 driven by an ex-Leyland Rally Driver was impressive on the circuit, but I resisted the temptation to find out how fast he was by staying away for the track when he was out. He was quick, no doubt about it, and entertaining to watch. Lunch time came and off we went back to the hotel, excellent salads and omelettes seemed to be the fashionable thing but this small boy, was all excited and just wanted to be back at the track and food wasn’t on the list of things I was considering.
The afternoon session was 14.00 – 18.00 and saw everyone getting gradually faster and more confident, advice given by Clive was clearly helping people with technique, and with the rising confidence came rising enjoyment. At around 17.00 hours, the Guardia Civil turned up, and most people who witnessed their arrival must have thought the same as me – what had we done? They had it transpired came as spectators!
Minutes later both gentlemen were being strapped into passenger seats, one in the Gray’s Griff, the other in our T350c before being taken on some fairly quick laps of the circuit. John managed to demonstrate his ability to spin a Griffith whilst remaining in complete control. Me I was just concerned that I did nothing wrong as the officer still had his gun with him in the car!! 10 minutes later, the two officers got out of the cars absolutely beaming from ear to ear, their lack of English and our lack of Spanish could not prevent the message being clearly communicated that they thoroughly enjoyed the ride. Clive was equally impressed that we had volunteered our services as he felt the gesture would only help his relations with the local police. I thought of asking Clive if he could discuss the possibility the officers could swing anything with the UK police to squash a pending speeding prosecution I have, but thought better of it, track time was still available.
The track closed at 18.00 hours to allow some photos of the cars, much to James disappointment, he seemed to be getting the hang of hanging the tail out on the Cerb, Clive decided he should be saved from himself!
After photos it was off to the bar and tales of heroics on the tracks, sandbagging but generally how everyone wanted to do more track days, and certainly this particular one next year. I’d not previously mentioned much about the Hotel at Gor, it was convenient but I think a bit of a disappointment to most - largely after the Paradors the nights previous, but most folk suspect when Jasper organises next year, we will see this location changed. A meal was organised in Guadix that night at an impressive restaurant, taxis arrived and took us as a group, we generally as a group consumed too much alcohol, had excellent food, and then were taken back, as a group to the Hotel, to consume more. A good night, well organised, and a perfect end to a very good track day.
The next day was a free day, no travelling to do so off we went in different directions,
Granada and the Alhambra Palace was one of the nearby points of interest on offer. We decided to hit the coast! Several enjoyable scenic and twisty roads later, we arrived on the coast at Motril, before travelling as far down the coast as Puerto Banus. We had lunch in a little open restaurant on Burriana Beach in Nerja where Paella was being cooked in the open air, alongside locally caught fish being char grilled. The sea, sand and pleasant sunshine made this place seem so far removed from the previous days with views of snow-capped mountains, it was like another country.
After lunch we moved down through Marbella, the T350c attracting many admiring glances. It seemed every set of lights we stopped at, the car was the focus of attention. Not to disappoint, the twelve year old driving would open the car up a little between the lights then back off to a chorus of pops and bangs. Not sure what I’ll be like when I reach puberty and I don’t really want to think about it, this holiday had been more about being a middle aged twelve year old and just having fun.
That evening after our meal, which was taken at the hotel, the atmosphere seemed a little drained of the enthusiasm that had existed previously on the holiday, and I suppose it was only natural as the next day was the start of the drive back up to Bilbao. Unperturbed by this ebb in enthusiasm, the dedicated team of professionals continued well into the night on the next leg of the Tinto marathon….Me, I took off my twelve year olds head and went to bed reasonably early.
Thursday morning was wet and miserable, pretty much matching the state of the TVR group. The Portuguese contingent would leave us today, but there was no sign of them at breakfast to allow us to say our fond farewells. It transpired that they spent the evening, and probably and considerable amount of the morning, socialising with the previously mentioned dedicated professionals in their pursuit of ridding Spain of any Wine Lake it may have had…. certainly if Spain is still able to declare to the EEC it still has such a lake, then there are only two feasible reasons. It still needs to update its figures for March consumption, or that it was not a lake, but a vast ocean.
Bill paid at the Hotel, car packed, full of 98 sin plom and off we went. We travelled in convoy with Mark, Roy and Jasper once again, and the pace, out of necessity was a considered one, the spray on the roads was dreadful. Around 40 miles into the journey, we witnessed the first casualty of the weather, a newish 5 series BMW had managed to launch itself so that it sat balanced on top of the Armco barrier, which incidentally workmen had been working to upgrade for the three days we were in the area – it works anyway. We left the autoroute shortly after that – in a calculated manner and headed for single carriageway roads that certainly seemed to cope with the excess water better than the autoroute. Mark and Roy seemed to know where they were going. However after some indifferent times taken to overtake traffic, they seemed to disappear……. Jasper pulled up shortly after we lost sight of the S3C in a small village to declare he wasn’t really sure where he was.
Linda had a map, but we would have to rely on coincidence for road numbers on paper matching those on road signs. Our intrepid navigator successfully negotiated the previously unseen roads, and we joined the main autoroute below Madrid, to witness a Chim and a Griff travelling at a rate of knots that I found uncomfortable to try and match. The old folk plodded up the road and finally, after petrol stops, met up with the Chim and occupants on the Madrid Ring Road, looking slightly confused. Lost is unkind, but eventually, and without cursing or swearing we all circumnavigated Madrid and found ourselves leading the group of three TVRs to Segovia via some stunning scenery, and again some beautiful twisty roads that the T350c seemed to be enjoying as much as the driver, it was the twelve year olds turn to drive again…….…
The Road Book made another appearance and again gave clear instruction of how to find the Parador, but this time the devious highways department had installed a Ring Road, and changed road numbers. Shortly after a team decision-making session, we dropped down to Segovia, to be met by the stunning sight of a huge and ancient aqua-duct that poured shamed on the other newer architecture. Not sure if I’d park the Tiv underneath it, but that’s another story.
We arrived at the hotel and gathered one by one in the bar area, becoming a complete team at around 18.00 hours. The last to arrive were Mike and James, they had spent time with the Joaquim and Vitor before they left that morning from Gor. A reporter from a Spanish Magazine joined the company and spent time doing a few light hearted interviews with members of the party, and taking the odd photo of travel weary vehicles before we retired to freshen up for the evening meal.
It was nice to be back in the comfort of a Parador, and that evening, we had the best service we’d had all trip, the food was first class again, the service exceptional and we were sat together at a huge round table adjacent to a picture window that seemed to frame probably the best view of Segovia. Spirits that seemed depressed the previous evening were high again, and the mood had changed to something more akin to a celebration, and quite in order it was too – we had all been part of something that hadn’t been done before, was as far as we were all concerned a success. We all had March held open in the Diary for next years tour.
Undaunted by the emotion of the occasion, the Tinto marathon moved relentlessly to its final stages. Nothing gets in the way of good old-fashioned professionalism and dedication. This was commitment to a cause the likes of which I’ve not seen previously, was honoured to have witnessed, but unfortunate to have again been part of.
Breakfast was subdued – I understand athletes suffer this syndrome after huge physical excursion. Through the haze of red wine breakfast was consumed, and when fit, we departed for Bilbao and the last night before the Ferry. The route was again through some picturesque mountain scenery, and jokes about snow earlier in the week seemed to be looking like turning to reality. The first sight of snow we had was at the roadside, then fresh snow lightly dusting across the road, then driving snow, then a snow plough, then, it stopped and we saw no more. We were passed coming into Bilbao by Liz, Raj’s partner driving their Chim, and were surprised not to see their car in the car park when we arrived at the hotel.
This was another non-Parador, but located in the centre of Bilbao next to the Athletico Bilbao football ground, no game that night, thank goodness. The place seemed fine and other than the difficulty others had locating it, the place seemed okay for the last night in Spain. Linda and I set off quickly after unpacking to ensure we had the opportunity to look around the Guggenheim Museum, located in a stunning piece of modern architecture, guarded by a large flower dog.
We have been to a few galleries of modern art now, and have come to the same conclusion, don’t know what substances these artisits were on, or what the people that promote the end product as art are up to, but it wouldn’t do if we were all the same. The last night we spent out on the town in Bilbao, a Chinese that wasn’t the best I’ve had, and drinks in a local bar. At first I would swear the owner of the bar didn’t want us to be there, then several glasses of Wine Lake later, I’ll swear he didn’t want us to leave. The Grande Tinto marathon lived on with the final Spanish leg complete at around 03.00.
Breakfast was late on Saturday, as we were in no rush to get to the ferry port, but we all arrived on time ready for the trip home, all wishing that the weather would be kinder to the team on the way back through Biscay and the Channel. The trip was good with a steady sea state, and not steady force seven either. We dined in Lanagans Restaurant that last night, and took the opportunity to once again thank Jasper for bringing us all together, and presented him with the only original tour tee-shirt for the 2004 Quack Spanish tour – Quack? I wont try to explain, you had to be there. We will move heaven and earth to make sure we are there next year.
The rest of the crossing was fairly incident free, the main thing of note being the closing leg of the Tinto tour and the length of time Ken’s partner Laura could sleep. The Marathon winner, by a short head, must remain anonymous, but he knows who he is. To the losers, well done for a gallant effort.
After saying our goodbyes, we ventured to the Portsmouth Hilton to do one more overnight stop before the final 300 mile leg of the trip. I’ve already made reference to the friends we made on the trip, but Linda and I also recruited one more – our new T350c, reliable, dependable and fun to have been with for the 3000 mile we covered in the 10 day trip. As a thank you to the car, the day after we arrived home, we were off to Croft for another track day. A certain Mr PR Wheeler was in attendance, and it was nice to be able to thank him for making the trip possible. For us this is TVR No 19 and I know No 20 if there is one, will need to be very special if it’s going to follow “Donald” the Healy Blue T350c.
The reunion is in July at Jaspers home, hope the local wine shop has stocked up…….I’ve not been training due to an injury that was causing a numbness of the head condition, blurred vision and tiredness. At one point I thought I’d have to hang up my wine glasses and would never play again, but I may have recovered by July.
A final thank you to Jasper for organising the trip, to Ken, Laura, Raj, Liz, James, Mike, Mark, Roy, John, Andy, Joaquim and Vitor for there friendship, to Philip and Nick and everyone who joined us at the track and to Clive and crew for the track organisation.
The story.........
It seemed like a reasonable idea when a mention of the trip was first spotted in Sprint, and then again on Pistonheads, no more attention however was paid to the thought of taking a TVR to Spain in March until October 2003. A trip through Northern and Central Spain, stopping over in Lerma, Toledo, Gor, Segovia and Bilbao, taking in a Track day at Clive Greenhalgh’s Guadix Circuit was the prize.
After various e-mails regarding the cost and a draft agenda, and once work commitments were established, we sent a cheque, to someone we had never met before for a little over a thousand pounds….the question was asked by others later in the trip - why would any sane person have so much trust in someone they had never met? No one really had the answer, but even in the trips infancy most people were glad they had. The trip was organised by TVR Car club member Jasper Gilder.
When e-mails were received with the trips details, we looked to see if we recognised any names of the fellow travellers. No such luck. Would this be a black tie kind of trip? Hmmmm…we decided to keep an open mind, and if the company were too “upmarket” for us, we would do our own thing and packed accordingly.
Our trip started Friday 19th March from our home near York. The car, our new T350c had been delivered from the factory only two months prior, but some diligent work avoidance ensured the little car had 2000 very careful miles under its belt before we left. Leaving home just before lunch would give enough time for a leisurely trip to Portsmouth and allow a stop for a light lunch on the way– no such luck, the traffic was horrific. 8 ½ hours later, and no lunch stop, we arrived at the quayside in Portsmouth to find that the Pride of Bilbao’s departure was to be delayed for two hours – bad weather. Still the car had behaved impeccably on the first leg of the journey, with engine temperatures staying where they should in traffic.
A quick look around the car park identified a few TVRs but no likely suspects for ownership, not a sign of a car club logo – could it be that the company were indeed more upmarket than other TVR car club members we knew, and simply did not wish to identify their ownership on articles of clothing that weren’t branded from some French or Italian Design House? The plot thickened.
Shortly after boarding the Ferry, we located the bar and adjourned for a small libation, sufficient to aid sleep if the seas were as rough as forecast. Linda, knowing what TVR trips can be like had made a commitment to stay away from any heavy drinking sessions in an attempt to ensure the next day held vivid memories and not jaded recollections. The immortal words, “if sir purchases two large glasses of wine, the rest of the bottle is yours for free”, threw down a gauntlet that was difficult to let lie.
Three bottles later, and we had met the rest of the party travelling from the UK, several hours later we retired, still not sure of the people we had met, or how the party of TVR owners would gel – if at all. Heavy seas and force seven gales the next day restricted social interaction, but we were to learn later that two of the team were dedicated professionals and had managed to man the various bars onboard during the course of the voyage. Committed?
Thirty-three fairly uncomfortable hours past, even for the hardier sailors, before we arrived in Bilbao. The Sunday morning weather was misty and cold, as it is so often is in that part of Spain and reminded us of the weather we had left in Portsmouth –it would improve during the course of the trip, but was never one of the real talking points, other than the Snow and the Snow Ploughs…details anon. We had agreed the night before to meet within the confines of the Ferry Port and drive in convoy to the first brief stop at the services near Vitoria-Gasteiz, only 50km South of the Ferry Port. Jasper had arranged to meet up with a guy named Charlie and his girlfriend Amaya. Charlie arrived at the services in his DeTomaso Pantera only minutes after the TVRs, and was yet another new face. The cars created quite a stir at the services, eight TVRs and the Pantera, a collective 3000 bhp of exotica.
It seems that every so often something comes along in life that makes you think the world out there isn’t so bad, a trouble free day in the life of TVR ownership is one of those things. The next paragraph or so describes one other such warm event.
When Charlie arrived, and bear in mind no one in the company knew anything about the guy, except for an exchange of a few e-mails between him and Jasper, John and Andy Gray had the bonnet up on their Griff 500. The radiator had sprung a leak, and attempts to cure with a German version of a Barrs Leak type product were proving fruitless. Charlie spoke fluent Spanish and helped to find the Barrs Leak in the first instance, but when it became apparent that repair would not be immediate, Charlie sprung into action. He promptly left in his DeTomaso, went home - a two hour round trip, and collected a four seater car to transport John and Andy to a hotel in Vitoria. From that point forward, until the car was repaired two days later, Charlie and Amaya became John and Andy’s translators, travel organisers, general Mr and Miss Fixit and friends.
The couple went to great lengths to ensure the two days of lost? holiday, were kept to the absolute minimum, helping to make time away from the main group enjoyable and quite memorable for the right reasons. Tales were later recounted of cider being projected into glasses from large barrels during one of the evenings – but you know how drink can distort things!! The car was eventually fitted with a new radiator, with assistance from DHL, TVR Power in the UK, and a local garage. John and Andy have already thanked Charlie and Amaya but I think all involved with the trip would like to reiterate – Top Guys – well done and many thanks. Enough of the soppy stuff and back to the trip.
With John and Andy Gray at the services, we were down to six cars, two Chimaeras, Two Cerberas, an S3C, our own T350c, and a Green Griffith owned by John Thompson from Madrid. John had been on the ferry from Portsmouth but would leave us at the services and meet up again at the track on Wednesday. A pleasant journey ensued to the first overnight stop, less than two hundred miles from Bilbao and the picturesque town of Lerma – a beautiful Parador Hotel awaited in the old part of the town at the head of the cobbled town square, and the sun was shinning. The trip down had been steady by TVR standards, even sticking to speed limits on occasion. Two reprobates had on one occasion, dropped back a little from the main group for a short quick blast up to speeds that may well have been in excess of the speed limit, not very PC, but enjoyable. I admit to being one of the cars, the other car who’s occupants shall be named, was the Red Rose Cerbera piloted by James Haynes, and accompanied by the long suffering Michael Toone…..good fun. Sorry guys, but Dorothy need not know!
Rooms were allocated at the Hotel, cars safely parked underground and people went their separate ways, looking at the old town or relaxing after the “trauma” of the ferry crossing – by some cruel twist of fate most folk arrived in the same bar for a very controlled “few” drinks.
For those not familiar with Parador Hotels, they are a government owned chain, the standard is exceptionally high, with buildings of historic interest often being tastefully converted for Hotel use. The evening meal at the hotel was booked for 21.00 hrs, the first opportunity for the party to sit together and get to know each other. Not a Dinner Jacket in sight!! With the meal, the first of a marathon leg of Tinto consumption began for our previously mentioned dedicated professionals, and a bunch of determined hangers-on. Oh how I wished I’d given it a miss some mornings, still boys will be boys.
The meal was first class and those brave enough to have ordered Pigs Ear Soup, well done for admitting it when the dish arrived. I stuck with the Potatis Bravis, but purely down to cowardice! The evening ended in the perfect surroundings of the huge hotel reception area, the bar thankfully having closed at midnight.
Monday morning was an early start for us, leaving a few hours before the others. Linda was out on the room’s balcony looking at the sunrise when I surfaced from the shower. She had been witness to a scantily clad James doing his early morning exercises on the balcony next door, but I am pleased to be able to report that she has made a full recovery. Breakfast was excellent, the type of well displayed hot and cold buffet that you don’t want to eat because it looks like you ruined hours of a Breakfast Arrangers work – but we did!
Destination Toledo, a distance of around 250 miles by the direct route. Our trip however took us away from the autoroute and through some beautiful countryside around Segovia, Avila and El Tiembla. The early morning air was cold with frost in evidence on the fields with the mountains in the distance covered in snow. The careful drive while the T350’s oil came up to temperature, gave us both an opportunity to do a little sight seeing from the snug interior of the car. Northern Spain really is very different to the Costa’s that most people see, and at this time of the year, very colourful. The car seemed to relish the consumption of cold air combined with freely available 98 Octane Super Plus Unleaded. The roads were empty and still no sign of the often-criticised Spanish driving style – the trip was proving to beyond any expectations we may have had, the new car a joy to own.
We arrived in sunny Toledo at around 14.00hrs and the instructions on the excellent Road Book that was provided, gave quite clear instructions on how to get to the hotel. However the Spanish flair for changing road numbers, so that even the newest map is quickly out of date, seems to extend to subtle changes in Hotel names…we arrived at the hotel, another Parador 90 minutes later. This Parador was located high on a hill overlooking the old town’s red clay roofs and stone buildings quite unspoilt by modern architecture with a river twisting its way through the buildings
Jasper, Mark and Roy were just leaving to do a more detailed sight seeing trip of the town when another TVR arrived. This was a stunning blue UK registered 4.5 Cerbera, must have come on a later ferry was my first thought, but this turned out to be the Portuguese contingent – two young guys from Porto, full of enthusiasm and as usual, able to speak excellent English…I keep promising myself I will learn another language, but my excuse is I’ve not decided which one yet, Linda knows better – I’m just lazy or is that too good at doing other things that are easier?
After finding the room, unpacking and taking some panoramic shots of the town below, we made our way to the bar and it’s balcony for a light late lunch…and a few quiet beers. We had decided after the first night in Lerma, that our trip would not be about chasing around exploring each town we arrived in, but would be more focused on enjoying relaxing drives through the country, resting at each port of call - as befits our older years and of course enjoying the food, wine, fine accommodation and good company. Lunch consisted of locally cured ham and cheeses and just hit the spot. Dining in the evening was going to be late, with not unusually for Spain, restaurants opening at 20.30. We older folk are used to eating earlier so a late lunch helped.
By now, the bunch of strangers that had met on the Ferry only a few days ago, were starting to mould into a group of friends. The gathering in the Hotel bar before the meal that evening was starting to take on a more international feel with the addition of the Joaquim and Vitor from Portugal. Talk was of the drive down so far and minor suspension problems. Cars that did not normally suffer ground clearance problems during normal use were grounding out from time to time due to the full loads, and some of the undulating roads. Many of the cars had load adjustable spring seats so it would have been possible to lift them a little, but that’s not where you want the suspension to sit for a day at the track. Compromise was the order of the day, but I suspect for next year our T350 will be lifted a little for the trip after suffering the odd chirp from the tyres catching the inner wheel arches.
Nerves were also starting to creep in for some of the track day virgins present in the group, and there were quite a few. Of the company gathered, neither Raj, Ken, James, Joaquim, Vitor nor oddly Jasper had done a track day, although Vitor later admitted to having done a “little” Karting! Both Roy, Mark and myself have done quite a few of track days in the past and tried to offer some words of advice to the newcomers, but I’m not sure if the advice made things better or worse.
The evening meal again was again first class, and the Tinto Marathon continued. After the meal and a few drinks in the bar, our dedicated professionals decided it would be an ideal time to see Toledo by night, and managed to recruit the young unsuspecting Portuguese…
After a hearty breakfast, the T350 was packed and levels were checked. The T350 had not been using any water and a few previous oil checks indicated oil consumption appeared to be a round 750-800 miles per 500 ml - all was in order. The trip down to Gor was to be the longest of the three days thus far, and we decided to travel with Roy and Mark in the S3C, and Jasper in his Cerb. Reports from the Grays were filtering through, and if everything went well today, we should see them at the Hotel in Gor later that night. They would have a quite direct 550-mile trip to the hotel, so our three hundred seemed paltry by comparison.
Our day’s drive saw us pass through, some stunning countryside and entertaining twisty roads. We took the wrong way only once today so judged the drive to be quite successful, stress free and a chance for Linda to play with her Camera and Video on the way. Our next hotel was the first of the none-Paradors; it was a 3 star newly built Hotel, chosen more for its location to the track I suspect. Bags unpacked again, but this time, a chance to completely empty the car as this Hotel was to be our home for three nights.
The sight of the mountains on the on the drive down must have triggered something with Mark and Roy as well as ourselves as less than half an hour after checking into the Hotel at Gor, we were off into the Sierra Nevada’s Snow topped peaks. Mark was leading with Roy navigating. The correct tourist route to the top of the range took some finding, and at one point, we were ready to give up and try again some other time. Spirit of adventure overtook common sense and before we knew where we were, we were off on a series of mountain hairpins that made the Stelvio Pass look like a Dutch Mountain pass. Linda was so worried that she forgot to turn on the carefully mounted video camera, and we missed some wonderful shots of Gypsies at the road side shoeing horses, some of the oddest canines I’ve ever seen, with expressions that suggested we were driving the oddest cars they’d ever seen.
Yet more stunning scenery and 45 minutes later, we were at 3200 metres driving below ski lifts and looking at the ski slopes from a distance. The slopes looked to present quite a challenge, but as I intimated previously, cowardice is not seen as a vice by yours truly – no point having a yellow streak and not using it. The car coincidently clocked over to 3000 miles at 3000 metres.
The roads back down were fun, popping and banging on the overrun, the T350 seemed to be enjoying the trip as much as we were, and I have to admit to feeling a little guilty locking the car in the garage that night at the hotel while we were off to have a meal and yet more drinks it seemed to deserve more than being just “abandoned”.
Great restraint was shown that night of the holiday, one glass of wine was all that I consumed as Wednesday was track day and a desire to be alert for the new track in a new car overtook any desire to continue the Tinto marathon. Clive Greenhalgh the circuit owner met us in the bar that night, and soon we started recounting tales of motor sport and car ownership. Clive is a very knowledgeable guy, and made everyone feel welcome at the Hotel and the next day at the track.
Breakfast on Wednesday morning was served in the Hotel Bar, and I have to say Linda and I were quite surprised not to see some of the contingent actually still stood at the bar rather than sat down for breakfast. The news arrived that the Grays and the Griff 500 checked into the hotel some hours before at 04.00 hours, and that the car was repaired to everyone’s satisfaction.
One by one the cars left for the circuit, some five minutes down the dual carriageway. The weather looked all confused first thing, but by the time we arrived at the circuit, the sun was shining, and worried faces started to appear as people got a sight of the track from the Pits area. The more experienced track day addicts did not envy those about to do their first track day and I was starting to think about that well used yellow streak, new car, strange track and all that……
Once all had arrived at the Track, and car contents were emptied into the pit garages, Clive gave a talk about the circuit and some advice on how to drive it. I have been to many such drivers’ briefings, and I must say this was one of the easiest to understand and informative talks I’ve been to. The main point was to take it easy, learn the way round, and be careful; the circuit is heavy on brakes. Clive offered one to one advice and some tuition throughout the day for those struggling to learn the circuit, and those who maybe just felt uncomfortable about their circuit driving technique.
Two groups then set about following carefully driven road cars around the circuit that would, with the help of pre-positioned marker cones, provide further guidance on the “correct lines”. Five or six laps following the car, and I felt confident that I should have an idea about the lines by lunchtime. It was a very technical circuit, but not flat or featureless, so easier to remember the corners. Back to the pits to gather my thoughts, and a look at the circuit map that had been handed out, some extra air in the tyres, and off we went on the first of many steady laps. The track started to make sense after an hour or so, and by the end of the day, I’m sure I had maybe 20% of it well and truly sorted….The highlight of the day was generally everybody having fun, no incidents of any great note, a few spins although one spinning Chimaera had Clive a little baffled as to how it had spun and stayed on the track, congratulations were in order for car control!
Another two TVRs joined us through the course of the day Nick Wadham in an original Grantura, one of only ten imported to Spain, and at the other extreme, Philip Leslie in a very nice Tuscan S from the Marbella region. A twin turbo 911 driven by an ex-Leyland Rally Driver was impressive on the circuit, but I resisted the temptation to find out how fast he was by staying away for the track when he was out. He was quick, no doubt about it, and entertaining to watch. Lunch time came and off we went back to the hotel, excellent salads and omelettes seemed to be the fashionable thing but this small boy, was all excited and just wanted to be back at the track and food wasn’t on the list of things I was considering.
The afternoon session was 14.00 – 18.00 and saw everyone getting gradually faster and more confident, advice given by Clive was clearly helping people with technique, and with the rising confidence came rising enjoyment. At around 17.00 hours, the Guardia Civil turned up, and most people who witnessed their arrival must have thought the same as me – what had we done? They had it transpired came as spectators!
Minutes later both gentlemen were being strapped into passenger seats, one in the Gray’s Griff, the other in our T350c before being taken on some fairly quick laps of the circuit. John managed to demonstrate his ability to spin a Griffith whilst remaining in complete control. Me I was just concerned that I did nothing wrong as the officer still had his gun with him in the car!! 10 minutes later, the two officers got out of the cars absolutely beaming from ear to ear, their lack of English and our lack of Spanish could not prevent the message being clearly communicated that they thoroughly enjoyed the ride. Clive was equally impressed that we had volunteered our services as he felt the gesture would only help his relations with the local police. I thought of asking Clive if he could discuss the possibility the officers could swing anything with the UK police to squash a pending speeding prosecution I have, but thought better of it, track time was still available.
The track closed at 18.00 hours to allow some photos of the cars, much to James disappointment, he seemed to be getting the hang of hanging the tail out on the Cerb, Clive decided he should be saved from himself!
After photos it was off to the bar and tales of heroics on the tracks, sandbagging but generally how everyone wanted to do more track days, and certainly this particular one next year. I’d not previously mentioned much about the Hotel at Gor, it was convenient but I think a bit of a disappointment to most - largely after the Paradors the nights previous, but most folk suspect when Jasper organises next year, we will see this location changed. A meal was organised in Guadix that night at an impressive restaurant, taxis arrived and took us as a group, we generally as a group consumed too much alcohol, had excellent food, and then were taken back, as a group to the Hotel, to consume more. A good night, well organised, and a perfect end to a very good track day.
The next day was a free day, no travelling to do so off we went in different directions,
Granada and the Alhambra Palace was one of the nearby points of interest on offer. We decided to hit the coast! Several enjoyable scenic and twisty roads later, we arrived on the coast at Motril, before travelling as far down the coast as Puerto Banus. We had lunch in a little open restaurant on Burriana Beach in Nerja where Paella was being cooked in the open air, alongside locally caught fish being char grilled. The sea, sand and pleasant sunshine made this place seem so far removed from the previous days with views of snow-capped mountains, it was like another country.
After lunch we moved down through Marbella, the T350c attracting many admiring glances. It seemed every set of lights we stopped at, the car was the focus of attention. Not to disappoint, the twelve year old driving would open the car up a little between the lights then back off to a chorus of pops and bangs. Not sure what I’ll be like when I reach puberty and I don’t really want to think about it, this holiday had been more about being a middle aged twelve year old and just having fun.
That evening after our meal, which was taken at the hotel, the atmosphere seemed a little drained of the enthusiasm that had existed previously on the holiday, and I suppose it was only natural as the next day was the start of the drive back up to Bilbao. Unperturbed by this ebb in enthusiasm, the dedicated team of professionals continued well into the night on the next leg of the Tinto marathon….Me, I took off my twelve year olds head and went to bed reasonably early.
Thursday morning was wet and miserable, pretty much matching the state of the TVR group. The Portuguese contingent would leave us today, but there was no sign of them at breakfast to allow us to say our fond farewells. It transpired that they spent the evening, and probably and considerable amount of the morning, socialising with the previously mentioned dedicated professionals in their pursuit of ridding Spain of any Wine Lake it may have had…. certainly if Spain is still able to declare to the EEC it still has such a lake, then there are only two feasible reasons. It still needs to update its figures for March consumption, or that it was not a lake, but a vast ocean.
Bill paid at the Hotel, car packed, full of 98 sin plom and off we went. We travelled in convoy with Mark, Roy and Jasper once again, and the pace, out of necessity was a considered one, the spray on the roads was dreadful. Around 40 miles into the journey, we witnessed the first casualty of the weather, a newish 5 series BMW had managed to launch itself so that it sat balanced on top of the Armco barrier, which incidentally workmen had been working to upgrade for the three days we were in the area – it works anyway. We left the autoroute shortly after that – in a calculated manner and headed for single carriageway roads that certainly seemed to cope with the excess water better than the autoroute. Mark and Roy seemed to know where they were going. However after some indifferent times taken to overtake traffic, they seemed to disappear……. Jasper pulled up shortly after we lost sight of the S3C in a small village to declare he wasn’t really sure where he was.
Linda had a map, but we would have to rely on coincidence for road numbers on paper matching those on road signs. Our intrepid navigator successfully negotiated the previously unseen roads, and we joined the main autoroute below Madrid, to witness a Chim and a Griff travelling at a rate of knots that I found uncomfortable to try and match. The old folk plodded up the road and finally, after petrol stops, met up with the Chim and occupants on the Madrid Ring Road, looking slightly confused. Lost is unkind, but eventually, and without cursing or swearing we all circumnavigated Madrid and found ourselves leading the group of three TVRs to Segovia via some stunning scenery, and again some beautiful twisty roads that the T350c seemed to be enjoying as much as the driver, it was the twelve year olds turn to drive again…….…
The Road Book made another appearance and again gave clear instruction of how to find the Parador, but this time the devious highways department had installed a Ring Road, and changed road numbers. Shortly after a team decision-making session, we dropped down to Segovia, to be met by the stunning sight of a huge and ancient aqua-duct that poured shamed on the other newer architecture. Not sure if I’d park the Tiv underneath it, but that’s another story.
We arrived at the hotel and gathered one by one in the bar area, becoming a complete team at around 18.00 hours. The last to arrive were Mike and James, they had spent time with the Joaquim and Vitor before they left that morning from Gor. A reporter from a Spanish Magazine joined the company and spent time doing a few light hearted interviews with members of the party, and taking the odd photo of travel weary vehicles before we retired to freshen up for the evening meal.
It was nice to be back in the comfort of a Parador, and that evening, we had the best service we’d had all trip, the food was first class again, the service exceptional and we were sat together at a huge round table adjacent to a picture window that seemed to frame probably the best view of Segovia. Spirits that seemed depressed the previous evening were high again, and the mood had changed to something more akin to a celebration, and quite in order it was too – we had all been part of something that hadn’t been done before, was as far as we were all concerned a success. We all had March held open in the Diary for next years tour.
Undaunted by the emotion of the occasion, the Tinto marathon moved relentlessly to its final stages. Nothing gets in the way of good old-fashioned professionalism and dedication. This was commitment to a cause the likes of which I’ve not seen previously, was honoured to have witnessed, but unfortunate to have again been part of.
Breakfast was subdued – I understand athletes suffer this syndrome after huge physical excursion. Through the haze of red wine breakfast was consumed, and when fit, we departed for Bilbao and the last night before the Ferry. The route was again through some picturesque mountain scenery, and jokes about snow earlier in the week seemed to be looking like turning to reality. The first sight of snow we had was at the roadside, then fresh snow lightly dusting across the road, then driving snow, then a snow plough, then, it stopped and we saw no more. We were passed coming into Bilbao by Liz, Raj’s partner driving their Chim, and were surprised not to see their car in the car park when we arrived at the hotel.
This was another non-Parador, but located in the centre of Bilbao next to the Athletico Bilbao football ground, no game that night, thank goodness. The place seemed fine and other than the difficulty others had locating it, the place seemed okay for the last night in Spain. Linda and I set off quickly after unpacking to ensure we had the opportunity to look around the Guggenheim Museum, located in a stunning piece of modern architecture, guarded by a large flower dog.
We have been to a few galleries of modern art now, and have come to the same conclusion, don’t know what substances these artisits were on, or what the people that promote the end product as art are up to, but it wouldn’t do if we were all the same. The last night we spent out on the town in Bilbao, a Chinese that wasn’t the best I’ve had, and drinks in a local bar. At first I would swear the owner of the bar didn’t want us to be there, then several glasses of Wine Lake later, I’ll swear he didn’t want us to leave. The Grande Tinto marathon lived on with the final Spanish leg complete at around 03.00.
Breakfast was late on Saturday, as we were in no rush to get to the ferry port, but we all arrived on time ready for the trip home, all wishing that the weather would be kinder to the team on the way back through Biscay and the Channel. The trip was good with a steady sea state, and not steady force seven either. We dined in Lanagans Restaurant that last night, and took the opportunity to once again thank Jasper for bringing us all together, and presented him with the only original tour tee-shirt for the 2004 Quack Spanish tour – Quack? I wont try to explain, you had to be there. We will move heaven and earth to make sure we are there next year.
The rest of the crossing was fairly incident free, the main thing of note being the closing leg of the Tinto tour and the length of time Ken’s partner Laura could sleep. The Marathon winner, by a short head, must remain anonymous, but he knows who he is. To the losers, well done for a gallant effort.
After saying our goodbyes, we ventured to the Portsmouth Hilton to do one more overnight stop before the final 300 mile leg of the trip. I’ve already made reference to the friends we made on the trip, but Linda and I also recruited one more – our new T350c, reliable, dependable and fun to have been with for the 3000 mile we covered in the 10 day trip. As a thank you to the car, the day after we arrived home, we were off to Croft for another track day. A certain Mr PR Wheeler was in attendance, and it was nice to be able to thank him for making the trip possible. For us this is TVR No 19 and I know No 20 if there is one, will need to be very special if it’s going to follow “Donald” the Healy Blue T350c.
The reunion is in July at Jaspers home, hope the local wine shop has stocked up…….I’ve not been training due to an injury that was causing a numbness of the head condition, blurred vision and tiredness. At one point I thought I’d have to hang up my wine glasses and would never play again, but I may have recovered by July.
A final thank you to Jasper for organising the trip, to Ken, Laura, Raj, Liz, James, Mike, Mark, Roy, John, Andy, Joaquim and Vitor for there friendship, to Philip and Nick and everyone who joined us at the track and to Clive and crew for the track organisation.
Hi Jo,
Just dissapointed that there was no response other than a word count - the comment was intended as tongue in cheek....honest
As for you Colin when did you become pro-litariate, and what does it mean? Yes see you in the bar, is it your round yet?...19 years since we first attended, surely your turn must come soon!!
Just dissapointed that there was no response other than a word count - the comment was intended as tongue in cheek....honest
As for you Colin when did you become pro-litariate, and what does it mean? Yes see you in the bar, is it your round yet?...19 years since we first attended, surely your turn must come soon!!
daftlad said:
Just dissapointed that there was no response other than a word count
Aaaah, thought you were saying that we wouldn't be interested in a european road trip.
We thought about doing Eurohoon but when we worked out the cost for two of us, £3000+ seemed expensive for just one week away.
Glad you enjoyed your trip, I'm very envious.
Jo,
This trip was actually very reasonable at just a bit over £1000 for both of us, the car, the hotels (including most of the meals)and the track day. The only thing to add was essential fluids - like wine, beer oil and petrol....another £1000!!!
>> Edited by daftlad on Thursday 10th June 15:05
This trip was actually very reasonable at just a bit over £1000 for both of us, the car, the hotels (including most of the meals)and the track day. The only thing to add was essential fluids - like wine, beer oil and petrol....another £1000!!!
>> Edited by daftlad on Thursday 10th June 15:05
daftlad said:I bought my rounds in 1982 and 1983. I do recall a bottle of Bollinger in exchange for 5 litres of four-star about 13 years ago so perhaps it is my turn again to pay. How about I buy you both dinner? Plain or smokey bacon??
is it your round yet?...19 years since we first attended, surely your turn must come soon!!
Gassing Station | Events & Meetings | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff