Writers’ Rovers

Dave Phillips heads to the Norfolk coast to explore and get some vital suspension work done on his Ninety

We don’t just write about Land Rovers: we spend our hard-earned on them - see what we’ve been up to

Idon’t need much excuse to head for my home county of Norfolk – especially with summer around the corner – but this time around I didn’t need an excuse. Mechanic Nigel Hammond’s inspection before the recent MOT test on my 1984 Ninety had revealed that the front suspension turrets were in a parlous state, so I was back at Nigel’s workshop near Fakenham to get them replaced.

I was replacing them with truly excellent galvanised replacements from Britpart in a kit that also included bottom retaining plates and all the other fixings required. Why Land Rover didn’t themselves dip the lot in zinc is a mystery, but at least it gives aftermarket companies like Britpart the chance to produce superior replacements. As the turrets aren’t removed very often, it made sense to replace the shock absorbers at the same time. Again I took the Britpart route, using their Super Gaz shockers, which came with spacer bushes, washers, and so on. I didn’t replace the original springs, simply because there was nothing wrong with them.

Nigel had removed the badly-corroded nearside turret a month ago, and temporarily replaced it with a less-rusty secondhand one, just to get it through the MOT test. Today both sides would get renewed.

The top of the offside turret looked as though it hadn’t been touched in the 33-year lifetime of the vehicle, with the top nut rusted into the turret top. Nigel didn’t bother trying to free off that nut, but instead went straight in with the angler grinder, using a cutting disc. With a bit of brute force, it was soon off.

The whole job took less than three hours, which meant I had a bit of time to test out the new suspension set-up on a local greenlane as I headed to the north-west of the county, to spend the rest of the weekend on the coast. Norfolk greenlanes aren’t usually very challenging, and this one was no different, but there were enough humps and bumps to give the shocks a good workout. I was very happy with the ride.

The lane I had driven had once been the track bed of a long lost railway. Like the majority of the county’s branch lines, it had been closed by the infamous

Beeching axe of the late 1960s. After meeting up with my dear friend Karen at her cottage in Snettisham, it seemed appropriate to head four miles or so south to check out the preserved Wolfterton station on what used to be the King’s Lynn – Hunstanton railway.

It was a line I knew well as a child. My parents regularly took me to the seaside on that very line, which also skirted my school playing field in King’s Lynn. My classmate Larry Garner’s dad was a signalman on that very line and his family lived alongside it in a former Great Eastern Railway cottage. Sadly the line closed in 1969 and poor Larry himself died just three years later, aged 16; knocked off his pushbike by a lorry.

All those memories came flooding back to me as I explored the station, which is exceptionally well appointed, no doubt because it was known as the ‘Royal Station’ – the one the Queen and her family used when travelling to and from their nearby residence at Sandringham. Unfortunately, not even her majesty’s custom was enough to save the line from premature closure. How useful it would be today when all the local roads are jammed solid with holiday traffic.

Happily, the station building has been beautifully restored and virtually all its original features remain, right down to the station lamps, fire buckets, crossing gates and original signal box. Close your eyes and it’s easy to imagine the scene as an immaculately polished Claude Hamilton 4-4-0 steam engine pulls into the station, at the head of the Royal Train. It is well worth a visit.

Late spring and early summer are my favourite times of the year. After the grey days of winter it’s good to enjoy the lengthening days and sense of renewal as the countryside greens up again. Suddenly the meadows are full of frolicking lambs and it’s time to dust off the shorts and feel the sun on your skin. And then there are the flowers. On the road between Gayton and East Winch, we suddenly come across two huge fields full of tulips, in full bloom. We stop, jump out of the Ninety and just stand and stare in wonder at several acres of pure, primary colours. We drive off with huge smiles on our faces.

Meanwhile, Billy the Wonderdog loves nothing better than poking his bewhiskered head through the Ninety’s sliding windows to enjoy the view and rush of fresh air. At this time of the year I know I made the right decision last year to replace the original doors with very non-original Series doors. With sliding windows wide open you get a controlled flow of fresh air through the car that’s a lot more comfortable than the blast you get from winding windows. The simplicity of old-style doors reminds you that retro doesn’t necessarily mean inferior.

The Ninety is the ideal vehicle for exploring Norfolk’s minor roads and tracks, especially now that I’ve replaced the original 2.5 naturally-aspirated 12J engine with a more powerful 300Tdi. It just feels right as we bump down yet another sandy track towards the beach, enjoying Land Rover ‘air conditioning’ (both front vents and sliding door windows wide open).

We spend most of the rest of the weekend on the vast, unspoilt beaches of North Norfolk, which we share with only a few fellow humans but thousands of sea birds.

Billy and Karen’s border terrier, Hetty, are great pals and scamper around the sands, occasionally taking a dip in the sea, which is numbingly cold on the feet when I take a paddle, despite the mild, sunny weather. The dogs don’t seem to mind though – and nor do a posse of horse riders that come trotting along the water’s edge.

This is the life. Oh I do like to be beside the seaside…