Bringing Eastern Europe to the lanes of Kent

Countryside Column for 31 Jan 2014

 Classic Vehicle or heap of old metal?

Oh, no, I’ve done it again. Talk about impulsive. What is it about old vehicles? Perhaps it’s in the genes. My grandfather was famous around the village for driving his 1934 Austin 12 right up until his death in 1963. My father evidently inherited this love of old cars and courted my mother in what I think was a pre-war Riley Lynx tourer. I say ‘think’ because I don’t remember much about it. Subsequently, as a baby, my carrycot was placed insecurely on the rear bench seat. Father resolutely refused to put the hood up unless in midst of a monsoon but mother appeared unwilling to leave her firstborn to the mercy of the elements. She insisted the tonneau cover had a plastic window inserted so, although I was covered, they could occasionally check I was still alive.

The arrival of my sister rendered Riley impractical and so an early ‘50s Austin A40 convertible was bought. This continued to do sterling service well into the ‘70s, by which time it was completely knackered and embarrassingly anachronistic.

For my first car I was offered grandfather’s Austin which had been gently rotting in a garage. I remember winning first prize at a vintage car rally – for the worst bodywork and shabbiest interior! But it did have STYLE! Girls loved it – until they climbed on board and found springs protruding through seats, the roof leaking like a sieve and no heater of any description.

Sadly, when I started my first job, it had to be replaced by a more practical 1972 Triumph Herald which I ran for nearly two decades. I won’t recite the succession of boring modern cars that followed but, alongside them, there has also been a mid-‘70s VW camper van, a mid-‘80s Citroen 2CV, a mid-‘90s Reliant Robin and, of course, my old faithful 1970 Series 2 Land Rover which is still doing daily service.

Now the stable has been enlarged by the addition of a Zetor tractor from about the same era.  I saw it advertised in the local freesheet and couldn’t resist its sturdy Czechoslovakian lines. It came with a topper and cost less than many sit-on garden mowers. It’s regarded as the Skoda of the agricultural world and is destined to provide hours of fun and, I suspect, frustration as I strive to improve its dented, battered and bent bodywork. New Year’s Resolution: must stop acquiring decrepit old vehicles!