This is the story of how my father and I had decided to see if we could wrangle our way into the Alfa Romeo Museum while on a visit to Italy.
The previous day we had been given a personal guided tour around the Lamborghini factory, thanks to the Australian importer in Sydney informing the management I was an important customer.…
When I was a boy, one of the highlights of my year was the annual trip to the British Motor Show, at Earls Court, in central London.
None of that public transport travel nonsense for the likes of us. No, every year my Dad would make a small windscreen sticker denoting a well-known British motoring industry name.…
Circumstances forced me to drive my new 1957 Porsche Speedster one-handed. This was because my other hand had lost all sense of feeling. This was thanks to what felt like Arctic conditions in a country I imagined never became cold, in an open car with no roof, in winter.…
Learning to drive with my father beside me was never going to be easy. He had zero patience and was a truly terrible teacher. I wasn’t expected to be just a regular driver. This I realised when driving his little Austin Special sports car around a field one day.…
I love driving, especially outside Australia which must boast some of the world’s most moronic drivers. Any opportunity to get behind the wheel beyond our shores reminds me what a miserable country this is for a petrolhead like me. (Hmmm, quick aside – will we have ‘voltheads’ in the future?).…
A car shed! Yes, there have been some big changes to our household lately when we moved from the leafy, lower North Shore in Sydney to the even leafier and cooler climes of Wentworth Falls, in the Upper Blue Mountains. In January this year, my wife, Dexter the dog, the two cats, Brodie and Ashley, and I, all went on a voyage of discovery, leaving Sydney after 30 years – blimey, what have we done?…