Austin powers its way to Highlands

TrAvElling to Scotland from Essex was a marathon journey in the Fifties. Our family had a 1936 Austin ruby and days before we set off, Dad would open the folding bonnet to check spark plugs, oil, water and fan belt. tyres would be pumped up, the one windscreen wiper examined and spare light bulbs safely stored. it was also necessary to pump up the back seat, only for it to deflate several times on our trip. On the day of departure, a box hamper that Dad had made, complete with plastic plates, cups, cruet, flask of hot water, juices, sandwiches and cakes, would be packed alongside our cases, waterproofs, umbrellas and tartan rugs. Summer weather in Scotland isn’t guaranteed. Our folding Kodak camera was taken to record events. the ruby had a starting handle that took several swings before the engine sprung into life. Fully loaded, it had a top speed of 40 mph, so it took a couple of hours to get to the A1. As dusk fell and our headlights shone only a few feet ahead, our first overnight stop was at grantham. After a few days and stops, we would finally arrive north of the border. there were beautiful drives along loch ness amid mountain scenery and forests, and exciting times as the ruby struggled with Berriedale and Devil’s Elbow. My sister and i would ask if we should get out and push as Dad clunked and double-declutched his way through the gears. Dad related stories of culloden and various battles in which his own clan gunn had been involved — they fought everyone, including themselves! visits had been planned to see relatives and friends of our parents and to visit old haunts in ross & cromarty and caithness. the homeward journey was always considered to be ‘downhill’ as we headed South again. Anyone who had braved the long trip north would proudly display sprigs of heather on the car radiator, so everyone else would know and acknowledge the intrepid expedition.

Valerie Gore, Stanford-le-Hope, Essex.