Cruising Martinborough: a chrome and gleam immersion

15 February, 2016

I spent the first Saturday in February blowing cobwebs out of my Shelby and straightening the curves of the Rimutakas to head to the main day of Cruise Martinborough. If you have not been to Martinborough before, it is a turn-of-the-century small town, created by a bloke called John Martin who named most of the streets after places that he had visited around the world, such as Dublin, Naples, and Texas. The centre is a large square  that you travel around clockwise only — almost like a roundabout, but square. Looking from space all the streets come off the square at either 45 or 90 degrees, making the town the shape of the Union Jack flag. It was here in the square that the Cruise Martinborough event organizers had done a magnificent job, shutting off vehicular access and allowing only entered vehicles to roam around free like bison on the prairie, or simply park up and enjoy the sun.

I loved strolling around, feasting on all sorts of wholesome and not so wholesome foods while admiring the chrome and gleam of a range of cars. There were lots of Camaros, Tri 5s, Mustangs, and Corvettes, but it was the unusual that caught my eye. I walked amongst a 1960s Chevy Acadian (a Canadian Chevy Nova), 1948 Chevy truck, a ’73 Barracuda, and a 2004 Chevy SSR, plus plenty more. Also on display were lots of old and new (but all retro-looking) caravans in funky slipstream shapes and, in some cases, milkshake colours. They were pulled by classics such as a ’63 T-Bird and a ’57 Chev. The caravans gave the display a Kiwiana theme and in some ways harked back to a simpler life when fuel was cheap, and travelling was more about the journey than the destination.

As great as the day was, it’s just one small part of the larger Cruise Martinborough event, and it left me wishing that I’d taken a few days off work, loaded up the car with the family, and taken in the rest of it.

Look out for more in NZV8 Issue No. 131.

Britannia rules the roads – Royal Tour Cars – part 1

Today we take royal tours for granted, but once upon a time, or at any time before the 20th century, it was impossible for our monarchs to visit their downunder dominions because of the distances involved and the unreliable transport.
The advent of steam power for ships and trains, the evolution of the motor car and, finally, the arrival of passenger air travel shrank their world, and ours, considerably, and the royal tour became a feature of the empire and the Commonwealth.
The first British royal visitor to Aotearoa, New Zealand, was Edward, Prince of Wales, in 1920. During his 28-day tour, he travelled mostly by the royal train, which was both safer and more convenient for royal personages. A variety of best-available cars were used locally. Ideally, these would be Daimlers.

Motorman: Blame it on Rio!

Following the third polite advisory, I figured there had to be a fair degree of substance to the warning. “If this is your first visit to Rio de Janeiro, please be careful,” came the personal hushed dialogue from the pleasant hostesses on a far from crowded Varig flight from Los Angeles to the famous Brazilian seaside city.
The previous evening I had flown into LA from Auckland en route to the 1985 international launch of the Fiat Uno Turbo. I was prepared for another long haul of just under 12 hours across Mexico, central America, Colombia, and central Brazil to that nation’s third largest city. Surprisingly the 10,500km run from Los Angeles to Rio is actually longer than the 8800km LA-London air route.
With the journey including a brief stopover in Honolulu I expected to travel just under 44,000km for the return journey to sample what was to be a low-volume version of a popular Italian car that would sell in even lower numbers in New Zealand. I like to think this shows nothing more than my deep commitment to my craft. In fact, even though I became lost on the homeward journey my total air miles would be little different.