Nick Larkin
We never stop learning about classics says Nick
Our Nick explains how you simply never stop learning.
Here’s a question of the type you’d expect during a rather corny pub quiz where people hide their mobiles under a big bag of pork scratchings so no one can tell they’re getting the answers on Google.
What nationality was the explorer Christopher Columbus? Do you know that throughout my entire life I’d thought he was of fine British stock. But he made his voyage into the world c1451 in Genoa, Italy. This made me realise that even after 30 years of being around classic cars I must be carrying around many wrong apprehensions.
Whaddya mean, BMW doesn’t stand for British Motor Works? Or Jaguar’s leaping cat mascot wasn’t inspired by a tortoiseshell named Horace? Seriously, despite having penned an epistle about the history of the MGC, I only discovered this genuinely interesting fact about the model the other day.
The C’s weren’t exactly flying from Abingdon like winged arrows towards the end of production and major dealer University Motors had an inspired idea. It bought what is believed to be 176 examples as a job lot and marketed them as ‘University Motors MG Specials’. Special indeed they were, as the cars were available with a range of personalised options, from Downton engines to Wood and Pickett grilles.
Despite having attended 14 million MG events in my life I knew nothing about this until chatting recently to the vendor of a truly unique example, which had been in vender Stephen Wilson’s family since his mother bought it secondhand in 1976.
Five years earlier the original owner, an Army major, had demanded it arrive in Pistachio Green, a vivid Lotus colour, with a Webasto sunroof and other bits of roof coated in black vinyl.
Further information which inspired me came from a recent visit to Spurr Classic Cars, where Mal Bishop normally has something fascinating from his collection of motoring memorabilia to reveal.
This time it was a c1960 car radio, apparently from a North American market Ford, so not that rare, which had two red triangles on the dial, at 640 and 1240 khz. These were to mark something called Conelrad (Control of Electromagnetic Radiation) that basically would broadcast to the nation when all other stations were closed down in the event of a Cold War attack. Apart from the obvious warnings to lie on the floor and maybe cover yourself with a newspaper to avoid risk from nuclear fallout, apparently music would he played by presumably still chirpy DJS. ‘Yo, this is Wilbur Studebaker on Conelrad, and hey, everyone, we’re having a blast… oooooh, no.’
Trivia-tastic!
A quick ask around for other favourite pieces of motoring trivia – thanks everyone – revealed that BMC once offered starting handles for Minis, though because the car had a transverse engine the you had to turn the front wheels and fiddle for hours. Were you also aware that the bottom of the range Simca 1000 of 1961 didn’t have an ignition key, just a starter button? Or that the lowest Hillman Avenger sported a non-adjustable passenger seat. And apparently lacked air vents. Maybe the singular most bizarre motoring fact I have heard recently involves of all things, the Turkish film industry, which in the Seventies was not averse to producing its own versions of popular films without concerns for such minor issues such as copyright. One was Batman, in full costume. And with endless budgets, which car was used at the Batmobile? Honestly, an Austin 1100. Surely there is nothing better than informing your friends of fascinating facts such as these, which make the classic world all the more fascinating. Strangely, I have noticed that social invites seem to have dried up a little recently.