In good company
CRUISING UP THE M40 motorway the other day in my XK, I was passed by a grey Jaguar Mk2 moving fast, followed by a lovely metallic blue E-type. So I clipped in behind and we motored at a good pace towards Oxford, before pulling off at the motorway services to refuel.
The E-type Jaguar driver shouted over: ‘Your XK is running well!’ I responded that his E-type was also looking nicely sorted. ‘Yes, it’s an Eagle, number 11,’ he said as he came over. ‘I’m Salman, by the way,’ he added, proffering his hand. It took me a second to realise who he was – Prince Salman bin Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa, Crown Prince of Bahrain and Deputy Supreme Commander of the Bahrain Defence Force.
I stuttered something out along the lines of ‘How do you do, your Royal Highness’ but he casually waved me off and politely complimented Octane magazine. That’s when I noticed his ‘friend’, who was driving the 3.8 Mk2, watching me steadily. He had that thousand-yard stare and was very fit-looking in a Special Forces kind of way.
Our mutual destination was the impressive Daylesford estate in the Cotswolds. George Bamford had invited a number of car types who make up his Tyre Kicker Club along for a morning drive, the theme being ‘Cars that make you smile’. Attendees ranged from a vast Mercedes 600 Pullman to a diminutive Fiat 500 (driven by the Earl of Snowdon), a trio of Alfa 8Cs and a raucous Daytona Comp. Lord Bamford brought a pick-up… a beautiful RollsRoyce Silver Shadow pick-up.
After bacon sandwiches in the Daylesford farm shop, we set off for Martin Chisholm’s Classic Motor Hub near Bibury. This is the old RAF station that Martin has converted into showrooms, a mess, shop and workshops – a real classic car destination. Here we spent a while, well, kicking tyres.
This particular Saturday was one of the hottest Aprils on record and, while the Jaguar is not troubled by this sort of heat on the move, it does get warm in traffic. On the way back to London we hit a massive jam over the Hammersmith Flyover, caused by a broken-down Aston Martin DB5! Two police wagons were there, bollards out, lights flashing, one lane closed, while numerous policemen were standing about, hands in pockets. I don’t understand why they don’t just tow the broken car off the carriageway. Health ’n’ Safety, I suppose.
The XK’s fuel pump started clattering at one point and I noticed a bit of fluffing when depressing the accelerator, which suggests it was suffering from fuel vaporisation. I need to look into that.