The Way We Were
We’re off to Oakham, the capital of England’s smallest county, where half a century seems to have hardly changed a thing. Well, that’s Rutland for you…
Oakham, 1970
With Oakham, the principal town of England’s smallest county of Rutland, being just up the road from CCW Towers in Peterborough, this The Way We Were seemed the perfect excuse for a quick Volvo blast up the A1 for a comparison shot. However, this birthplace of The Rutles threw up a little mystery. The original 1970 shot of the Market Place was obviously taken from an elevated position and, short of getting a stepladder out in the middle of busy Oakham High Street and holding up traffic, it wasn’t possible to replicate its position exactly.
And then a bus pulled in behind. There’s now a stop here, so was that also the case 48 years ago, and this picture was snapped from the top deck of a Barton Transport Leyland Titan PD1 or similar? Certainly that would explain the altitude. And the slight skew-whiff attitude. As can be seen, little has altered, aside from the names and natures of the businesses and, of course, a general decline in the interestingness of the vehicles. Maybe we’ll be rather more excited by 2006 Vauxhall Astras and Land Rover Freelanders and Discoveries in 2066. But until then…
Starting with the row nearest the camera, there’s what is now quite a rare example of BMC 1100 badge engineering, the MG variant. This version was the second to be launched, after the Morris, in October 1962 and boasted more power (55bhp as opposed to 48bhp) from its twin-carb A-series engine, along with a plusher interior. The inevitable Morris Minor – an almost guaranteed fixture of any 1960s car park – comes next, in half-timbered Traveller form. We then move from BMC’s sporty and common-or- garden marques to one of its more upmarket brands, Wolseley, with a 16/60 Farina displaying two-tone paintwork, plus the trimmed rear fins of the September 1961 refresh. Its ‘Mini-me’ littler sister has also slipped in, in the form of a 1964 Wolseley Hornet MkI.
After another Morris Minor, this time a saloon of 1967, there’s a glimpse of the folded-over rear fin of a Ford Consul Classic, the shortlived pre-Cortina machine that tried to capitalise on the Anglia’s reverserake rear window looks. And largely failed. It’s a pity we can’t see more of its neighbour, an NSU Prinz 4, a rare rear-engined vehicle here despite over 576,000 being produced in West Germany between 1961 and 1973.
‘Maybe we’ll be rather more excited by 2006 Vauxhall Astras and Land Rover Freelanders and Discoveries in 2066. But until then…’ RUTLAND PARKING THESE DAYS JUST AIN’T WHAT IT USED TO BE...
A Ford Escort MkI caps the row and is the only car here that really pulls this tableau out of the early 1960s. Coming down the other side – where it looks like there’s precious little room to manoeuvre into any of those parking places – a Morris Minor Traveller is immediately recognisable, as are the curves of an Austin A35. The two more squarecut cars in between are less easy to identify. The 1100/1300 looks like an Austin version, joined by an A40 Farina Countryman stablemate. The bigger Farina-design next door also looks like an Austin, judging by the grille design and trim line. Finally, looking far too big to take up just a single parking spot is a Series I or II Humber Super Snipe, before quad headlamps were adopted. The rear logo is a stylised representation of a snipe bird flying. As our modern shot shows, it’s remarkable to find a location so utterly unchanged after half a century; K Shoes isn’t there now and the 17th century coaching inn in the centre is now the Whipper-In Hotel. But its sign still hangs from the same support while, over on the left, the shop awnings – a nowlost feature of most High Streets – remain in place, albeit not deployed on our sunny 2018 day. Don’t ever change, Rutland!