A personal perspective…………………..

The first 'event' proper for the Club this year (if you dare ignore the AGM, that is) was neatly timed for early May in a truly delightful part of the country - centred on Dorset, but with regular tootling in and out of Somerset.

Henry and Diana Harvey galloped to the rescue when Michael Marshall fell ill, and in a couple of days of whirlwind-like activity organised the hotel, visits, routes, refreshment breaks - all of which turned out to be splendid.

But I gallop ahead. Yes, you can gallop in a 14HP (get it?). My story begins with the cross-country tootle (I do like that word) to pick up Vincent Rawlings, my co-driver/navigator/listener-to-strange-noises chap for the next few days. A good run down the Fosse Way (what a useful road that is - clever of the Romans to think about the movement of vintage cars so well), and then in to Cirencester for fuel. The first shock, nay joy of the day was the discovery of Graham and Barbara Mellish in their delightful 14/45 Weymann saloon also 'feeding' their car. They were planning a leisurely drive to the mid-afternoon meeting point, and were not going to Sparkford for lunch, so we bade them farewell and turned south once more.

We had a splendid run in lovely country with almost no traffic (to hold me up, tee-hee), on a route determined not by my able navigator, but courtesy of the RAC computer. Imagine this, a route of almost exactly 100 miles which at no time mentioned the name of any town or village through which we passed. Rather like travelling in a vacuum.

The Sparkford Inn offered, and indeed sold good sandwiches and a jolly hour was spent meeting up with members and guests for the weekend. Capt. Stephen Law was the last to arrive 'con brio' as usual, and proceeded to remove his trousers as soon as he stood on 'terra firma'. Shrieks from the ladies (looking through open-fingered hands, however), but it was only a pair of over-trousers in any case. Good story though. The Haynes Museum was next on the agenda, and I must confess to not being too bothered if I don't see another red car for some time. If you've been you will know what I mean.

Outside the wonderful Montacute House

A gentle drive down the A303 to Montacute House found all other members of the party arranged (well, the cars were) at the front of the delightful house. We squeezed onto the end of the line and then headed straight for the tea rooms (what a shock!). A spot of civilised chat and tea/cakes with Quentin/Peter/Val/Stuart and we were away again (after group photo-call) to dice with the Yeovil rush-hour traffic and try and find the hotel. When you have a good navigator you are ok! Straight into the sheltered car-park, registered, unpacked, and found the bar. I will also have you know that I was not the first there, as I found someone 'scouting' around already. Enough of a clue.
Splendid hotel with friendly staff, and we had an informal arrangement for dinner where you ate when and where you wished, people arriving at different times on a Friday. Most had a first-class dinner in the hotel, but Quentin and Peter decided to abscond and hit the high-spots of Yeovil. They were not away for long!

Saturday dawned bright and sunny, if cool, and the Harveys had planned a challenging route for our day. We had not been long gone when we had to pull in and allow a Jurassic agricultural machine to pass, and while waiting happened to spot one of the party chatting to a delightful young lady in an MGB at the side of the road. Let us call that person 'Q'. Perhaps 15 minutes later we pulled into a picnic spot through some kind of security chicane (glad the 95 limousine was not with us!), and I strolled across to dispense glad tidings etc to anyone who hadn't the nouse to clear off quickly enough, when I saw the MGB pulling in!

Vincent and I were full of admiration for the chat-up line of the man we call 'Q', indeed making a note to book private lessons in a quiet moment. It was only when Val Lloyd introduced me to her daughter (yes from the MGB), that the truth dawned. Sorry 'Q'.

Superb lunch stop including the weather !

Beautiful country, a coffee/cake halt mid-morning (best almond slice for a long time) at a café with a strange clock (demurely pointed out by Sarah), good hills, great views, and then just before lunch we saw the sea. Typically English dainty sandwiches were had by most, and we were joined by the Wards en mass, having come from two directions. The relaxed lunch was followed by a slightly steep hill (and jolly long), which made the investigation of the pulling power of first gear necessary. Moral a) make sure the engine is fully warmed up first and b) do read the road properly to anticipate the hills. What views though at the top. Chesil Beach and Portland Bill (that well-known music-hall act) laid out in clear sunshine before us. Fabulous.

Views were quite amazing including the hills - no problem !

Poundbury was just off our route by ½ mile or so, and most people diverted to have a look. I have read so much about it, and thought it would be just pastiche with no real substance to it, but I was quite wrong. There was a really good farmers' market in the square, the pub had real 'feel' (plus good coffee/beer), and on the whole I thought Poundbury was terrific. Well done Prince Charles!
The ancient water mill near Bridport was the scene of our abduction. We had no sooner tootled down the track (I thought we hadn't tootled recently), when a local leapt onto the running board and demanded we go with him immediately 'round the back'. We could see other Talbots in the proper car-park, but we could do nothing. We were lost. 'Round the back' was, of course, the display by the local steam society, and we parked up next to a pretty lake, and had a happy 30 minutes wandering around the spitting stationary engines. One or two of the locals were doing the same I noticed. Being stationary, that is.

Our organiser Henry amoungst some steam engines!

Off again and across country to Mapperton Gardens (below) where we dived into the tea rooms.

The jam sponge cake was perfection and we had a good chin-wag again. Geoff and Birgitte Clarke arrived in their rare 14/45 coupe cabriolet - jolly good to see them both again after our first meeting 2 years ago in Dartmouth.

We then wound (I think we have tootled enough) our way back to the Hotel, where in a trice there was, to use a term from our NZ friends, a bit of a swap-meet. We were in and out of each others' cars, and the test route of about two miles each way was soon buzzing with 14 HP cars. Interesting/depressing/surprising, but mostof all fun. Even Tony Ward was spotted trying out Henrys H's 65. What is driving a proper car like Tony?

An informal private dinner was enjoyed, thanks to Henry and Diana being sincerely given, and a group of petrol-heads were still chatting away into the early hours.

Sunday was a little more overcast than Saturday, but after a good breakfast, we packed and set off on the drive to Wiscombe. Jolly good too, and we passed 2 Talbots en route. Ok they were both parked, but so what! One was the Moores' 90, and the second was Paul Leat whom I bumped into in Honiton. Just after some clown had literally bumped into Paul's 75! Not serious, but very annoying.

Wiscombe itself was hilly as usual. We had a good spot at the top of the hill thanks to John and Lucinda Ward, and welcomed a full house of Talbots. Paul Leat, Geoff Clarke and the Wheildon party in the London/Sydney 75, all joined the cars from the weekend group. I thought the catering was thin on the ground this year, and if it were to be repeated I would certainly organise my own picnic next time. Also toilets seemed strangely few and far between. The weather brightened from time to time but it was quite a cool day. Good 'jumble' was bought by members, and whilst the Talbot entry this year was down on previous events, Di Threfall in her 75/110 and Nick Ridley in his newly acquired Talbot 105 were there. Di managed a best time of 65.46 secs while Nick still sorting the car had a best time of 70.91 secs. Also in the Edwardian class Barry Clarke entered his 1913 25/50 and managed a best time of 74.04 secs.

The marquee was a very welcome shelter from the cool wind, and attracted attention again from passers-by, and two new members applied to join the Club. All in all a superb weekend.

The Wheildon party in the London/Sydney 75 just about to drive home !

Vincent and I stayed in Yeovil on the Sunday and then motored home on Monday morning, this time ignoring the RAC computer, but using basically a similar route. Back home for lunch in the local, only to find that they didn't 'do food' on Monday. Oh well. At last a break from DRIVE/EAT/DRIVE/EAT/DRIVE/EAT.

What fun though. Thanks again to Henry and Diana.

David Booth.