Whanganui takes you on a trip back in time

2 February, 2017

Late January 2017 saw another chance for Whanganui (the jewel by the ocean), to put on its annual Vintage Weekend. Spread over three days, all attendees got the chance to sample delights from a bygone era — the Rivercity Caboodle, street carnival, live bands, great food at the Riverside Festival, and the always popular Soapbox Derby. This array of lunacy saw home-made carts rocking down one of the steepest hills in town. As usual, the Waimarie paddle steamer, the oldest coal-fired vessel of its kind operating in New Zealand, took visitors up and down the river, and completed the heritage ethos.

That’s just the raw data; it doesn’t truly do justice to the level of attention to detail and sheer effort that the vintage and heritage enthusiasts put into the weekend.

But let’s face it, if you are reading this then there’s only one area of vintage memorabilia that you are concerned with, and that’s the infamous Victoria Avenue show-and-shine line-up, and the various car rallies.

The car nuts that infest the fair town came out in force, with everything from a 1906 Darracq to a 2011 Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG. Also in the line-up was a 1980 Chev Camaro Z28, as well as Bruce Hodge’s always stunning and immaculate 1966 Ford Mustang.

We can only assume the owner of the Camaro dipped his head in disappointment when the SLS pulled up alongside. But that level of inadequacy must have been minuet compared to the owner of the 1984 Mazda 323. The owner obviously looked after and remained proud of his car throughout its ownership, but even the most loyal of car lovers will feel disappointment when a 1972 Jag E-Type pulls into the space next to you.

Many owners, as you would expect, kept a watchful eye on their cars throughout the event, keeping an extra close eye on the younger generation who felt the need to look with their hands.

I found myself cringing on more than one occasion, as people tried to squeeze into the gaps between the cars, but that didn’t stop the owners from having a good time. 

Surely no one should have been more nervous than the owner of the 1929 Willys Whippet; this truly elaborate machine had a consistent crowd, with a series of selfie-takers gathering around it from the beginning to the end of the event.

Much to the organizers’ delight, the annual rally on the Saturday of the event grew to even higher numbers than the previous year. I’m not quite sure how the owners of Mitre 10 felt about losing 90 per cent of their car park, but there were no complaints from the attendees. Every year the derby gets bigger and better, so I suggest you consider making the trip next year.

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.

Pinnacle Porsche

We were stopped at the side of the road, setting up the next photograph, when a faded Toyota slowed alongside and stopped. The window was already down to give the driver a good look.
“That’s my dream car,” he said, speaking for more than a few of us.
He drank in the gleaming red paint, shining in the sun, and the car’s purposeful swoops and curves. He exhaled half a lungful of cigarette smoke, gave a hang 10–style thumbs up and drove off.
On the side of the road, against a clear blue background, the Porsche stood out in all its stark red glory. It’s the classic 911 shape on steroids. It has the fat, even pouty, front lip of the G series 911s, added to comply with 5mph bumper restrictions in the US. It also has the oversized haunches to accommodate the wider rear wheels and tyres – a first for Porsche, which also confirmed its supercar credentials – and, most noticeably of all, that enormous whale-tail spoiler. They made it look as if Porsche had abandoned its restraint.