The Way We Were
Parking directly in front of a Parliament building? It wasn’t as unthinkable back in 1968 as it is today…
Summer 1968, Stormont, Belfast, Northern Ireland
’Did that Fiat 850 originate in italy or at Fiat’s assembly plant at summerhill in ireland?’
Remember the days before political HQs and other high-profile locations had to be swathed in security measures? When you could just walk down Downing Street, almost to the door of Number 10, and when steel and concrete barriers weren’t considered necessary street furniture?
The public car parking shown here wouldn’t be possible today. As impressive as the view is over the long drive, with statue and city in the distance, a 180˚ turn would reveal an even more imposing sight: the façade of the Parliament Buildings in Belfast, more colloquially known as Stormont. Constructed in Greek classical style and opened in November 1932, this was the seat of the Parliament of Northern Ireland until it was suspended in 1972.
It now serves as the home of the Northern Ireland Assembly. Original plans included a domed roof, but this was deemed too costly.
With 1968 regarded by many as the start of ‘The Troubles’ in Northern Ireland, this quickly meant that prominent official sites such as Stormont would be forced to become much more security-conscious. Being able to park so close to the parliament building would never happen again.
Beyond is eastern Belfast, with the dramatic statue of Edward, Lord Carson, standing sentinel. This Unionist leader is often attributed with being the chief creator of Northern Ireland. He presides over an interesting selection of vehicles; most are British, although a few popular continental cars have sneaked in.
Starting on the left, there’s a hint of Morris Mini Minor, alongside a Vauxhall Viva HA. Then we reach the first of the cars from the continent, a Volkswagen Type 3 1500 or 1600 in estate form. Its redesigned, lowprofile ‘Pancake’ air-cooled rearmounted engine made the estate more practical than a Beetle.
It’s almost as if the parking here has been organised alphabetically, because we remain with ‘ V’ for the Victor FB next door. The sequence is interrupted by a red/ black Mini almost completely obscured by the Victor, after which there’s the FB’s 101 FC successor. A blue Mini caps this row. However, the Vauxhall theme isn’t quite over yet – we think that’s a Duple-bodied Bedford VAM bus on the slope.
The gent on the steps, cigarette in hand, is quite the dandy and seems to be admiring the Austin A35 in front of him. Its BMC stablemate and rival, a Morris Minor 1000, sits alongside. Then we reach our first Ford and it’s a good ’un – or, at least, it was back then. A brand-new Ford Escort MkI, only launched at the beginning of the year. Then there’s a Riley Elf (or Wolseley Hornet), a Ford Cortina MkII and a diminutive Fiat 850; did the last of these originate from Italy or was it built at Fiat’s assembly plant over the border at Summerhill in Ireland? A Ford Anglia 105E Deluxe is keeping company with a Singer Gazelle MkVI, after which two Minis finish off the row.
Over on the right, two of the biggest small car rivals of the 1960s – Ford’s Anglia 105E and BMC’s 1100/1300 range – have mustered their forces to make sure neither gets the upper hand, with two examples of each. Note the photographer snapping our snapper alongside. Triumph then pops up with its front-wheel drive 1300, after which there’s a Vauxhall Velox PB, another Mini and a Vauxhall Viva HB. For once, there’s no Mini on the end, but rather its Italian equivalent, a Fiat 500, behind which there’s a Hillman Minx. In that two-tone colour scheme, the little Minx is likely to be a Series 3A, 3B or 3C.
There’s probably very little chance of recreating this scene with modern vehicles. We suspect that you probably wouldn’t get past Lord Carlson before being halted in a most determined fashion…