Our Classics
The Aston saga continues. This week, John seals the deal before making a break for the border
1969 ASTON MARTIN DBS V8
Having responded to an internet advert that read simply simply ‘Aston Martin DBS V8, green’, I had learned that it was in Geneva, but was right-hand-drive. I’d been emailed images that enabled me to research its background and I became captivated by its colourful history, vivid colour and mouthwatering specification. Bought new by Aston Martin director, Denis Flather, it was California Sage with Emerald Green leather and manual transmission (important), and the factory had apparently used it to test the Vantage development engine.
I flew out to Geneva at 5am a few weeks later (pre-coronavirus) and had booked a flight home for 11pm, giving me nearly a whole day there. My new friend in Geneva, Miko Lazovic – who didn’t own the car but was looking after the sale for a friend of his in Greece – told me where to meet him and said that I’d recognise him. I absolutely did, too, because he was holding a copy of The Age of Cars – the book that had made me want a DBS V8 as a child.
We drove to a low-key storage facility in Geneva in torrential rain and I soon realised that my host was an effervescent medical doctor, passionate car collector and dyed-in-the-wool Aston MArtin enthusiast. He had looked at the DBS V8, changed the oil and antifreeze, got it running (albeit very roughly) and established that the clutch worked. He’d also done a very positive compression test and then left it on a ramp so that I could have a look underneath. It turned out to be surprisingly solid.
Miko then took me to his home for quite the richest lunch I’ve ever had – black smoked beef wrapped in cheese on a 2ft long sandwich toaster, although I restrained from joining him in a lunchtime glass of claret! A friend of his popped in during lunch and showed me pictures of his 33 classic Ferraris, once he’d realised that I speak fairly fluent ‘Ferrari’.
After lunch and armed with trade plates, Miko invited me to drive the car, which I didn’t really want to do, not knowing the insurance situation. My host’s enthusiasm was infectious, however, so after a run around the block with me driving, we set off towards the Alps with Miko behind the wheel, insisting that the engine ‘just needed waking up’. He drove three or four miles then turned off down a country road, pulled into a farmyard and drove straight into a barn. I had to get out of the passenger seat first because Miko had blocked himself in the car and was rather perturbed to see three blokes running towards me shouting in German. Then Miko appeared, having climbed over the passenger seat and effectively fallen out of the car and the men greeted him enthusiastically.
It turned out that Miko had brought me to an exotic car storage facility on the outskirts of Geneva, where we spent the afternoon looking at everything from exWorks Mini Coopers to Jaguars (the striking ex- Saudi Embassy X308 XJR with metallic purple paint, gold coachlines and matching purple/gold interior was a particular favourite of mine) Aston Martins, Bentleys and sundry Ferraris.
We later tried – unsuccessfully
– to telephone the DBS’s owner to determine whether the car was realistically for sale before we drove back to the airport, so I had to just make an offer. Miko emailed back a week later a week later saying that the owner wanted £70,000 for the car – way more than I thought the car was worth, or I could afford.
Then about a month later Miko called again and said: ‘I think you have some luck. The roof of the garage has collapsed. He has to move the car so if you want to buy the DBS V8 I think he will accept your offer.’ A deal was made for just over £40,000, but there was a catch – I’d have to move the car from its Geneva garage that day… and I was in the UK!
Perhaps unsurprisingly, my bank refused to help, convinced that I was being scammed. I could see their point but I’d been to Miko’s house, I’d seen the car and – most importantly of all – I’d checked Miko out with both the Aston Martin Owners’ Club and Aston Martin Works. Both said that they had known him for many years and that he has a good reputation. I’m no gambler but I was convinced that this was just shambolic enough to be genuine!
The bank eventually relented and transferred £5000 to see if the account worked. It did and I spent more than six hours fighting with them to allow me to buy the car – in £5000 chunks. While I was there I phoned Miko to let him know that I was sorting out the money and to see if he could get the car moved. He said that he’d work on it. What he didn’t tell me was that he’d failed to find any paperwork showing that the car was not officially still in Geneva, so it couldn’t ‘officially’ leave!
I considered going over on a ferry with a low-loader but that’s not as easy or cheap as you might think, especially with three hours’ notice. So, while endlessly waiting in the bank, I called CARS UK (carseurope.net) to see if they could help. Amazingly they said that they had a truck going to Monte Carlo the very next morning and could pick my new acquisition up if I could find some way of getting the car into the EU. Miko suggested a garage that he knew of just over the border in France. Steve at CARS said that he knew the place and reckoned it would be ideal for our needs, and so
I got word from Miko at about 4am UK time that my car was on a truck heading for the Swiss border with France. I had a picture of it at the garage by 5:30am and CARS had sent me pictures of it being loaded by 7am and hadeven managed to get it properly insured.
So, I’d finally bought an Aston Martin after 40 years of dreaming and a sleepless, nail-biting night. I wouldn’t see it again for another three months, but that’s another story for another issue…