Aston Martin Owners Club Concours - Holkham Hall, Norfolk


© 2019, Classique Car Conduits

© 2019, Classique Car Conduits

© 2019, Classique Car Conduits

© 2019, Classique Car Conduits

© 2019, Classique Car Conduits

© 2019, Classique Car Conduits

© 2019, Classique Car Conduits

© 2019, Classique Car Conduits

© 2019, Classique Car Conduits

© 2019, Classique Car Conduits

 

Given the most inclement of weather continuing, since dawn on that Sunday morning, it had been a last-minute decision to travel up to the north Norfolk coast, and pay a visit to the AMOC Autumn Concours. This, the second such occasion of the Club’s calendar, and a much more modest event than the Spring one, though nonetheless potentially just as enjoyable. It was after lunch by the time I was finally approaching my destination. Visual signals, passing me by, confirmed that I was travelling on the right path as, every so often, from fifteen miles out, were miscellaneous Astons coming in the opposite direction, and obviously already heading home.

Upon arrival into the picturesque little village of Holkham, and then on foot into the grounds of the 18th Century Estate itself, it was a topographical marvel how such an archetypal English countryside setting could be right on the edge of a sandy coastline with the grey menacing North Sea just beyond. I was met by a few familiar vehicles and faces, those which had been concours participants on many previous similar occasions, together with those who loyally travelled in their Astons the length and breadth of the country, whenever such an event was held.  However, there were a few new ones which may not have been seen outside the more metropolitan areas, London centric venues and Home County locations on earlier years.

Of course, some cars had transformed in the decades since I may have seen them originally and were not instantly recognisable. One such was, to all intents and purposes, an Aston Martin DB4GT, very much a fully appointed road-going touring car, with a well-upholstered comfortable interior. But I knew that during a previous life, as others might have guessed given the slightly telling roll-cage within, and under former ownership (plus a different colour), this was in fact a well campaigned racing car. A long time ago converted from a standard DB4 into a shortened, lightweight, ‘4GT specification. The person to whom I spoke, standing closest to the vehicle (I assumed may be the owner), had no idea that it had been a hard-driven racing car, some 25 years back in history.

As more pedigree sports racing cars go, the most venerable present was one of the ‘Works’ team Ulsters, from the mid-1930s. This example being LM16, a 1.5 litre ‘Bert’ Bertelli creation, which had finished 3rd in the RAC Tourist Trophy of 1934, held at Ards in Northern Ireland. With its sister cars, LM15 and LM17, also finishing well, Aston Martin had won the Team prize that year.

Later on, another owner I met by chance, who had been a longstanding friend and collector, had brought his original 1979 V8 Vantage up from southern England. The last time I’d seen him behind the wheel of this, two decades before, was when we both - with other friends - drove our V8 Astons through France down to the Le Mans 24 hours. His V8 Vantage was still presented in the most immaculate condition, and no different to the day I last saw it.

In addition to the marque cars represented by the organising club, there were a few invited ‘associates’. Two of which, in the line I had walked along, being vehicles predating Aston Martin as a manufacturer completely. These were representatives of the Daimler and Lanchester Owners Club and a couple of examples of special note; a high roofed, very stately looking, Landaulette, parked next to quite a low slung, open-topped cousin. Both were spotlessly presented, especially in the wood and brass areas. Despite the high-quality construction, the smaller Daimler resembled, to me, the sort of robust purposeful car found in grainy monochrome photos. Visions of its like, battling on rough terrain across epic long distances, enduring nothing better than dirt roads, while criss-crossing Europe in Edwardian times, came to mind.

Within a couple of hours, darkness was already beginning to fall, enhanced by thunderously black clouds, so more and more visitors decided this was a prudent point to make their own tracks. And, luckily, by the time I had walked back to my own basic hatchback, still right at the edge of the Estate, the heavens really began to open and I was just spared a drenching. This, purely by luck, rather than judgement.

About an hour further on, following navigation of a lattice network of Norfolk’s minor rural roads, gradually returning back inland, I’d reached more of an arterial dual-carriageway, directly in a southerly direction. By now the rain was bouncing back off the tarmac, nearly a couple of feet high, due to the ferocity of the downpour, but I’d caught up the aforementioned Daimlers. The 1911 limousine was on the back of a truck, but the 1906 open car, like an amphibious racer, was scything through the water under its own power. The driver hunched down over the extended steering column, in leather coat, flying hat and goggles. He could not have been getting wetter than if he was going through a carwash. I slowed down after a few more miles, given that my own tyres were beginning to aquaplane and everyone was on main headlights in the thickening darkness and gloom.

Imagine my surprise when, over my right-hand shoulder came the Daimler ‘speedster’ (not to be confused with the German models from Daimler-Benz), as the driver continued to press on with his thin tyres slicing through the continuous and deepening ribbon of surface liquid. A further twenty miles down and I pulled in to a petrol station, only to find our hero already at the pumps, nonchalantly filling up. He was waiting for his colleagues in the truck with the more sedate Daimler on board and a 1966 Major Majestic, completing the mini-convoy. Now fully in vision and dripping, head to toe, he looked as if he’d extricated himself straight from the North Sea itself. However, he retained a big beaming smile across his face and was clearly relishing the whole adventure. We had a few words of chat and he confirmed this was indeed the case, “Bit of rain’s nothing to worry about!”. Then I feebly returned to the relative comfort of my own vehicle.

Notwithstanding the enjoyment of the Aston club concours, overall, it was this gentleman in his ancient Daimler which captured the automotive spirit and created a lasting memory of the day. What a great character he was, giving a vivid demonstration of what real motoring was like over a hundred years ago. With a bit of determination and perseverance, it can still be enjoyed on our roads today in exactly the same circumstances, whatever the elements thrown against us. Long may it continue.

John Godley
Classique Car Conduits