Starting HANDLE
James Walshe explains why he rushed to the north of Scotland
It felt a bit like the plot of Whisky Galore!. After several rickety hours, the train pulled into a tiny platform in the middle of a peat bog, from where I was taken by Land Rover down winding lanes to a remote moorland barn. With a cold wind whistling through fields and a blustery drizzle spattering my rain coat, the wooden door creaked open and the most famous Standard on earth was revealed.
Just weeks ago, the gleaming blue Fifties classic had been unceremoniously shunted into a corner of a local scrap yard before being ‘temporarily re-homed’ in the dry sanctuary of this barn. After a short while, myself and local classic enthusiast Tom Sayles – one of the real-life heroes of this story – revived the car and got it running properly. We drove it onto a trailer and took it to a village just outside Thurso, where we met those who had sought to help save the car.
Out here, far from the queues for takeaway coffee, the car nuts of Caithness have almost infinite space in which to enjoy their classics and their good spirit and the warmth of camaraderie is extended to visitors. With plans afoot for a small car museum in the region, there is now talk of the little Standard forming the centrepiece. This classic has been saved by the community, for the community.
Nobody in this office blames the previous owner. What he does with his property is his business, not ours. And, yes, Ford has a commitment to its 200,000 employees worldwide to perform as a business must in these tough times. But we are all glad that – from here on – we have established a dialogue with manufacturers like Ford that will help to ensure historic vehicles are preserved for the next generation.
‘Nobody here blames the previous owner at all’