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Tour Auto 2018 at the Grand Palais


1974 BMW 2002 Tii Gr.II #111 & 1975 BMW 2002 Ti #109

1974 BMW 2002 Tii Gr.II #111 & 1975 BMW 2002 Ti #109

1951 Jaguar XK120 Roadster #2 & 1953 Jaguar XK120 Roadster #122

1951 Jaguar XK120 Roadster #2 & 1953 Jaguar XK120 Roadster #122

1970 Lancia Fulvia 1600 HF #197 & 1971 Lancia Fulvia 1600 HF #9 & 1971 Lancia Fulvia 1600 HF #113

1970 Lancia Fulvia 1600 HF #197 & 1971 Lancia Fulvia 1600 HF #9 & 1971 Lancia Fulvia 1600 HF #113

1953 Porsche 356 Pre A #180

1953 Porsche 356 Pre A #180

1974 Peugeot 504 Coupé #67 & 1976 Peugeot 504 Berline #66

1974 Peugeot 504 Coupé #67 & 1976 Peugeot 504 Berline #66

1965/66 Ferrari 275 GTB

1965/66 Ferrari 275 GTB

 

At the start of the working week in central Paris, it was unusual to see so many people choosing to visit a collection of old cars. Historic and interesting, of course, but still a glorified indoor parking lot housing about 250 of them. But this gathering was special, each one in the final preparation stages for a five day drive of 2,100 km, on an indirect route, to the southern edge of France where it becomes the Mediterranean Sea. The setting was very fitting being the Grand Palais, a cavernous building with a glass roof allowing abundant natural light into all parts of its interior. Some 239 vehicles (excluding officials/corporates), from sports-racing cars, large and small GTs, coupés, saloons and even the occasional urban shopping car - such as the diminutive Honda 600N and Autobianchi A112 - were having their exteriors festooned with competition numbers, rally plates and sponsors logos. Adorned in such a way that throughout their long journey to Nice, spectators and casual bystanders alike could not fail to recognise that each one was on a serious mission. For now, though, the immediate problem for occupants was how, and where, to store all the complimentary goods and clothing, distributed to each participant in high quality carrier bags, in addition to a week’s luggage for two people.


© 2018, Classique Car Conduits

The majority of cars were grouped together by manufacturers and models so, from a photographic and identity perspective, it was a great help to see similar vehicles lined up beside each other. That also meant that subtle differences between specification and year of completion could be determined - should your interest in a particular marque warrant such forensic examination and, thus, education. So, for example, one could see the variances of a 1970 BMW 1602, to a 1973 2002 Tii and a 1975 2002 Turbo and then, similarly, the Alfa Romeo Giulia Sprint GTA, GTAM and 1750 GTV.

There was a flurry of activity all around, in every direction, for senior organisers were giving general event introductions over the public address system, officials providing technical advice whilst crews of mechanics were checking brakes and wheels or the optimum levels of liquids and lubrications within the engine bay. Drivers and co-drivers were thumbing through the following day’s pace notes, testing the intercom reception between the microphones in their crash helmets (vital in a Lancia Stratos, among others, no doubt) and applying stickers, transfers and numbers very carefully to the immaculate paintwork on their cars. Whilst there was constant noise and a hubbub of conversation, not a single engine was fired up or jerry-can of petrol emptied. All the mechanical tuning, carburettor adjustments, fuelling etc. had already been completed outside during the previous weekend, or even earlier in the participants’ own preparation garages.

Not every car would make it intact right to the finish line, of course, for special timed stages and races at various tracks around France would take their toll, as well as engine stressing steep inclines and rough terrain on both public highways and narrow country lanes. However, for this showpiece start, each car seemed to gleam in the light from above, save for one the most valuable Ferraris still having a thick coating of dust, from likely long-term storage, on and around its rear numberplate. Of no importance, but conspicuous that the little detail had, so far, been missed.

Having, in previous years, personally witnessed one of the midweek races and the final finish line at a coastal port, significant dings, scrapes and scratches I knew would be, by then, common place and inevitable. However, what would be most dissimilar, unlike the many, many hours of concentration by everyone through France, were the potential performances of the cars themselves. From powerful thoroughbred sports racing cars, like the Ford GT40s - piloted by highly skilled drivers (some professional) - to very modest, affordable transport of the early ‘50s era, such as the 1951 Peugeot 203 and 1952 Citroen 2CV, with less than a tenth of the power. There the optimum efficiency to be maintained, and difficulties to be overcome by individual drivers would vary quite dramatically.

Even between top-flight cars themselves, there were notable differences. For example, Ferrari specialist James Cottingham, who’d been victorious at Goodwood the previous month in his Porsche 904 GTS Carrera, had returned to France, accompanied by professional racer Andrew Smith, with the ex-Le Mans GT40 in which they won the event in 2017. When asked about his choice for the Tour Auto, he said that whilst the Porsche would be more responsive and pleasurable to drive, it did not have the outright performance and torque that his big Ford provided in abundance, and enabled precious seconds to be saved on regulated sections and greater distances to be covered in shorter time, overall. That said, additionally in the seriously competitive group, was the blue 904 GTS of Jean-Marc Bussolini, which also happened to be in the same Goodwood race.

By complete contrast, another car that I had seen exactly twelve months before on the previous ‘Tour’, was a Sunbeam Alpine of 1953 vintage. This had taken part in the Alpine Rallies of 1953 and 1954 in the hands of highly talented Formula One driver Peter Collins. Current owner David Miles reminded me that 2018 was a special commemorative year, for it was the 70th anniversary since Collins died from his injuries while competing at the Nürburgring GP in 1958, while chasing Tony Brooks’ Vanwall, and fatally crashing his Ferrari 246.

The profile of Tour Auto entries had also changed somewhat over the years. In the early 2000s, Ferrari 250 GTO and 250 SWB models were quite numerous and, even only four years ago, I had seen a quartet of Aston Martin DB4GTs in the final stages, heading to La Rochelle on the Atlantic coast. However, for 2018, just one 250 SWB was present, returning campaigner Adrian Beecroft in chassis 2104GT, and a single 1958 DB MkIII representing the sole Aston Martin entry in the entire field.

Only later, when I commenced the process of editing my full collection of pictures, did I realise that most of the ubiquitous contingent of Porsche 911s had been absent from my camera lens. I guess it was because they are so familiar - both on the road and the racetrack - that I passed them by. It must have been a section of the assembled display going largely unnoticed, not by others, just me. Similarly, at all classic car events imaginable in the UK, be they grand or modest, MGBs always seem to represent a significant percentage of every car present. So, I concede that the half dozen or more MGs are missing from the 190 plus cars I did record visually. Therefore, apologies to followers of the popular Abingdon in Oxfordshire built vehicles, but I am sure you will find them well represented in other photographic reports.

But what of the multi-faceted topography, weather variations and required driving skills that lay ahead? This was a subject I pondered upon, after remembering a few comments by an experienced road rally organiser, over dinner, a few years back: Let’s say you have arrived at the little known ‘Circuit de Bresse’ in the Department of Saône-et-Loire in the East-central region of France. It’s a compact track of three kilometres length, with several small straights, joined by hairpin bends. Let us assume your car doesn’t have the taut suspension settings of seasoned club race machines, but after a while you have begun to master - as well as enjoy exploring - the parameters and late breaking points, so that your lap times have steadily decreased. As the chequered flag falls you are exhilarated and adrenaline is still pumping. A long cold drink refreshes and cools the body, but perhaps not so much the head.

Now, seemingly refreshed, you are ready for the next challenge. What does the route book say? Ok, just another 220 kms to go before reaching the next overnight stop at Megève, almost as far as Mont Blanc, and then Switzerland. That can be polished off in no time, surely? So, back on public roads, still wearing your crash helmet, there is little difference to what has gone before, more fast sweeping curves and rewarding 180 degree turns. Confidence and reflexes remain at a peak. The only trouble comes when you meet ‘un gros camion’ coming in the other direction and the run off areas, outside the tarmac, happen to be five foot ditches. “Oh mon Dieu. Au secours!” This may be an exaggerated danger for most, but nonetheless something for which to be mindful.

And what of the rest stops themselves? Exclusive chateaux, manicured gardens and picturesque views beyond, fine dining and sumptuous four-poster beds. At this level of prestige, in the hierarchy of elite motoring events, no doubt an expected pre-requisite. But, can you enjoy it all, or at least have a bit of a morning lie in? “Non monsieur. Notre départ est sept heures du matin!”

That said, the drivers do get a decent amount of comfortable sleep. For the wealthiest, support teams with trailers, engineers with lathes, hoists and every tool imaginable follow the progress, set up camp on concrete and are prepared to change gearboxes, manufacture components from scratch and toil all night to re-build a bashed or broken vehicle by daylight. Perhaps their rewards are some of the forgotten contents of the carrier bags, last seen at the start in Paris, and gathered in the departure tidy up.

So, the event is very much a combined effort if you are in it to win it. But perhaps the guys in the ‘Group IV’ Ferrari Daytona (chassis 13367) chose best. Noting their preference for the Régularité category (rather than the Competition group, for really determined chaps), they would have a bombproof V12 pushing out 400+ horsepower, decent space in the cabin and orthopedically supporting Recaro (or similar) seats. Distances would be halved compared to those piloting the comparatively micro FIAT 600D, and comfort much greater than in an ‘open to the elements’, sixty year old, OSCA 750 Sport.

However, what every participant shared, making them work for their entire twenty-one hundred kilometres of travel, was a clutch pedal and a proper gear stick. No lazy left leg, paddle flicks or touch sensitive buttons on steering wheels, for any of them. All ‘proper’ cars, these, yes indeed. And rightly so! No carbon fibre bolt-ons, Venturi tunnels and engine management systems, let alone Sat-Navs. (At least, I trust that was the case, hopefully detailed somewhere in the Conditions of Entry rule book.)

And so, for the majority, now I can report it was a welcome, if exhausting, finish at Nice, on the Riviera, as Saturday evening darkness fell. And following myriad algorithms, cumulative times and performance coefficients - all double checked - the overall victors were Raphael Favaro & Yves Badan in their Lotus Elan 26R. Sandwiched between them and, tellingly, the other Elan 26R of Damien Kohler & Sylvie Laboisne, in third place, was the thunderingly quick Shelby Cobra 289 of Frédéric Jousset & Paul Miliotis taking the runners-up step on the ‘Competition’ podium.

Confirmed as no easy achievement for anybody, as the classified results show 48 cars as ‘Abandons’ (or retirements) and a further eight cars either as ‘Exclusions’ or ‘Forfaits’, the precise technical meanings, or reasons, remaining unknown to me.

As a closing thought, I can’t help the abstract picture in my mind of forty-eight abandoned, yet valuable, classic cars lying un-touched - if a little damaged - at the edge the roadside, strewn right across France. It would be a fun journey, like an automotive treasure hunt, just to find them all, wouldn’t it?

Select a favourite, get it fixed it up at a local garage. Telephone the owner (who’s probably forgotten, and moved on to another in his collection) and then seek his permission to enter it in the Tour Auto next year…Now there’s an idea.

Photo and Report: Classique Car Conduits