I recently went to visit Bordeaux, a place more famous for its wine and its architecture than anything else. When one discovers a city for the first time, it’s always good to be able to check out the local classic car scene, if there is one. Turns out they have quite a few petrolheads there, and they gather on the first Sunday of the month in a colourfully re-purposed military barracks located on the Garonne river’s right bank.
The variety of the gathering was what made it interesting. I arrived a tad late, when folks were already starting to leave. This part of France is known for its oceanic “all seasons in one day” type of weather, but fortunately, he sun was out (in the beginning, at least). Plenty of roadsters about, including Shelby Cobras. Replicas, no doubt, but still pretty awe-inspiring. And very loud.
British roadsters were out in force, too. Triumph, MG, Austin-Healey and a fine pair of Morgans. Not necessarily my cup of tea, but a classic car meet would not be complete without them – even in France.
This early ‘70s MGB, which looks like it came from America, was probably my pick of that lot. The deep red colour somehow fit the surroundings in a very fitting way. No, don’t call it “Burgundy”…
Continuing with the English theme, I managed to catch this Jaguar Mk2 3.4 litre as it was leaving the premises. I was sad to see it go so soon, but I reasoned that this ‘60s Jag, beautiful as it was, was small potatoes compared to another one I caught (a genuine CC, that one) a few days earlier. It will be featured on this site as soon as possible, of course…
Sitting alone, far from the crowd, was this cute little Wolseley Hornet, its generous brightwork gleaming in the noonday sun. This is a genuine rarity outside the British Isles. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen one in person before. Neither has this website, it seems. Welcome to CC, little Wolseley…
The Wolseley Hornet was a clone of the Austin / Morris Mini, with a tacked-on grille at the front and a bigger boot out back. Along with the similar Riley Elf, the Hornet was BMC’s attempt at pocket-sized luxury for the people. Kind of pointless, rather garish, but all ‘60s Mini underneath.
The (modest) extra rear luggage space is probably the car’s only redeeming feature, though it didn’t really gel with the Mini’s body all that well. Not far from the Wolseley lay another English rarity – one that I wrote about not long ago as part of my European Deadly Sins series.
Plastic fantastic! A Reliant Scimitar GTE. Another unicorn in the bag. This looks like an early ‘70s model, still swathed in chrome and other cool touches. Ford V6 power meant that this Reliant was not for the hoi polloi, nor the faint-hearted. Princess Anne had one, don’cha know.
Well, far be it from me to criticize Her Royal Highness’ taste in motorcars, but the Scimitar is not exactly pretty. It’s weird. And in this fading blood-orange colour with matching vinyl top, it’s arrestingly weird. Love the rear screen hatch. Volvo were obviously influenced by this car when they made the 1800 ES.
The interior is pleasingly brown, as befits a ‘70s GT. Brown and beige and far more cramped (or should I say “snug”?) than I expected. The Scimitar’s original design was a 2+2 coupé, and it shows. It’s unclear to me whether these were ever imported to France as new (probably not); this was clearly was a British car from birth. The Scimitar made for a compelling subject to photograph, but there were plenty of other interesting cars around.
Strangely, the German contingent was quite thin on the ground, aside from the obligatory Porsche 911s, Golfs, Beetles and Karmann-Ghias in various states of customization. I fumbled my picture of a departing Mercedes Pagoda, unfortunately. There were a nice Transporter or two, as well. Always a pleasure to see these, especially a pre-1968 one such as this, dwarfed by contemporary SUVs.
On the Italian front, there were a few Alfas, but none of the ones I fancy (bar the one in the title pic). And not a single Lancia, which is a darned shame. But there was this über-cool metallic brown Ferrari. Well, it’s a quasi-Ferrari, as it lacks the actual Ferrari name. The Bertone-designed second generation Dino may not have the sex-appeal of its predecessor, but it still has presence.
These were made from 1973 to 1980 as the Dino 308 GT. Sporting a 3-litre V8, they were initially sold without the prancing horse logo, though everybody knew what they were underneath. Then, in 1976, they got six yellow badges: one for each wheel, one on the front and one on the steering wheel.
So looking at what we have here, I’d say this is a late model. The interior of this Ferrari sure looks like a great place to be. And having heard the beast, it also sounds like a nice place to be.
It’s about as sweet an Italian sports car as the ‘70s ever gave us, in my opinion. Very wedgy, very brown and very low, playing the part of the Dachshund to the nearby 2CV’s Great Dane. If it weren’t for the Daytona, this would probably be my favourite Ferrari of the ‘70s.
There were plenty of other interesting foreign jobs at hand, including a few Japanese entrants. For instance, this late model Datsun 240 Z. Drop-dead gorgeous in its curious orange hue, the most successful Japanese sports car of the ‘70s was prowling the grounds, asserting its rights as a high-visibility vehicle.
And the orange paintwork worked a treat. Once this thing and its huge schnozz were on the move, there was nowhere else to look. Datsun had their woes in terms of styling in the ‘70s, as we’ve discussed before. But the 240 Z was designed (by Albrecht Goertz, who also penned the BMW 507) in 1969, just before somebody spiked the water cooler at Nissan’s styling studio.
The 240 Z was a hit in Japan and in the US. It seems even the oh-so-haughty Europeans, though spoiled for choice when it came to sports coupés, were not insensitive to the Datsun’s undeniable charms, fully-optioned interior and bulletproof 6-cyl. engines.
On the saloon front, there was this time-warp 1980 Bluebird, the last of the breed to have RWD and the Datsun name. Can’t remember the last time I saw one of these up close.
This is how Nissan came out of their weirdo-styling phase of the ‘70s: make ‘em square, make ‘em bland and make ‘em sell. It worked a treat. For although there were many who bought Datsuns in spite of the styling, surely many were put off by it. Not the case here. There’s not much to object to.
Clad in its crisp white suit, this Datsun looks ready to hit the disco floor to the sounds of Born to Be Alive or some Boney M schlager until the wee hours. And now it’s here – Sunday morning fever! There was another interesting and unusual Japanese car at the show, but it deserves (and will get) its own post.
Onwards and upwards to the plus-size models. Most Europeans are wary of American cars for a host of reasons – they are very rare here, and have been for the past 50-odd years. But there is a strong contingent of European car enthusiasts who wouldn’t dream of driving anything else. Even something as unsuited to the local roads as a Lincoln Continental Mark V. You could fit a Smart car in that front overhang…
The Ford Mustang is also a perennial favourite on both sides of the pond – and beyond. It’s hard to argue against the original pony car, with its reasonable proportions, affordability, awesome V8 and sublime styling. The ’65 Fastback is probably the one I like the best, and as luck would have it, there was a pristine example there. At least four other ‘60s Mustangs were also present. The French have a thing for ponies, and not just as a beef substitute.
But the one that really caught my eye (how could it not?) was this 1965 Corvette. There really is nothing quite like a Stingray, is there? Aggressive, yet poised. Big, yet compact. And that ice-cold blue hue just made it all the more irresistible. Everybody waxes lyrical on the ’63 split window, but if you want a little sunshine in your life, this is just the ticket.
Sure, the Mustang was a great little runabout for your average Joe – and could be optioned to the hilt with performance-enhancing extras, but it wasn’t exactly sporty to begin with. The Corvette Stingray, on the other hand, was a properly expensive and exclusive sports car, with IRS, two seats and a lightweight GRP body. Nowhere for the groceries to go, unlike the Ford. Apples and oranges.
And the interior of this generation Corvette is probably the pinnacle of the breed, too. Horizontal tachs were not welcome in this Chevrolet, thank you very much. When GM got things right, they really got them right.
Which is more than can be said for the Corvair, of course. Despite having tried harder than other Detroiters at making this compact, GM fell flat on their face with this car, as Paul’s GM Deadly Sins entry on the matter can attest in much greater detail.
The Corvair’s properly deadly swing axle was already old news by the time this ’64 Monza Spyder was made. And it wasn’t so much the Corvair’s underpinnings as its styling that set it apart as one of the most influential American designs of the era. As it slowly drove away, with its distinctive air-cooled growl, it was impossible not to fall in love with this flawed automobile. Especially for a Tatra aficionado such as yours truly.
Before we leave, I’ll just mention the presence of countless bikes – Harleys, BMWs, Triumphs and the like, which are definitely nowhere near my automotive radar. There was one exception: this very distinctive East-German MZ ES, built at the old DKW works in Zschopau. It stuck out like a sore thumb, and I couldn’t resist snapping it up.
Now’s as good a time as any to pause for a breath before we attack the domestics (i.e. French) cars in tomorrow’s post. See you then!
Related posts:
Curbside Classic: 1967 MGB – To B Or Not To B, by PN
Curbside Classic: 1978 Reliant Scimitar GTE – Princess Anne Had One, You Know. And Another, And Another…, by Roger Carr
Curbside Classic: 1960 VW Bus – On The Bus, by PN
Road & Track Vintage Review: Dino 308 GT4 – One of the Most Controversial Ferraris Ever, by PN
Curbside Classic: 1971 Datsun 240Z – Revolutions Don’t Come Often, by PN
CC Capsule: 1982 Datsun Maxima (Nissan 810) – If You Can’t Afford a BMW, by PN
Curbside Classic: 1977 Lincoln Continental Mark V – Navigating Big City Streets, by Joseph Dennis
Cohort Capsule: 1965 Ford Mustang 2+2 Fastback – A Stallion Instead Of A Gelding, by PN
Automotive History: 1960-1963 Chevrolet Corvair – GM’s Deadliest Sin?, by PN
Wow — what a show!
I’ve had MGBs on my mind a lot lately since I’m finishing up an MGB article that I hope to publish in the next few weeks, so I’ll register my appreciation for this burgundy, er… dark red… example here. This one seems like a 1970 model, since it has the 3 wipers and side marker lights, but still appears to have leather upholstery (replaced by vinyl sometime in 1970). Of course the seats could have been swapped over the years, but that’s another matter. I’ve found that coming up with precise years on MGBs can be a tricky business, and there may be things I’m missing here. Anyway, what really sticks out about that MGB is the enormous luggage rack — seems like the rack itself is about a foot off the base of the trunklid.
I can’t wait for Part 2 and to hear about the other unusual Japanese car!
Lots of cool stuff here but (and this may surprise a few) I am really feeling that 280Z today. I am not usually an orange car guy, but if we are going to consider an icon of the early 70s, is there a better color to keep it in the right groove?
The chrome bumper MGB looks like a lot of fun.
Actually, I wouldn’t say GM fell flat on their face with the Corvair. It was really the most successful of the 1960 domestic imports, in that it actually sold to former import buyers, thus creating incremental sales for Chevy, unlike the Falcon and Valiant, which mostly just cannibalized sales from their big car lines. And its sales of some 225-300k per year were actually very good for the smaller market back then. In 1961, the Corvair had 5% market share. Very few vehicles if any today have that kind of market share nowadays.
There was a reason import sales dropped significantly in 1960 and 1961.
When I used the title “GM’s Deadliest Sin?” I was referring to the questionable decision of not including a sway bar or anti-jacking/camber compensator spring initially, and not in the usual sense of having a negative impact on the company’s long term viability. The Corvair was quite a successful car sales-wise, until the Mustang eclipsed it in the sporty coupe sector.
Hmmm…very jealous. Giving me a travel itch that I can’t scratch. Love that Ferrari, what a profile. The Mustangs and Corvette Stingray look fantastic as well. Beautiful examples of iconic designs. The Lincoln? Well, it’s certainly unique for the location. The real star, though, is that Datsun…I’m getting overstimulated.
No, not the 240Z, the Bluebird.
What a great collection of cars! ..and you have a fantastic camera.. wonderful images and depth of colour. Is that a Salmson peeking out from behind the Ferrari?
You have good eyes, my friend. It most definitely is a Salmson, and it’s prominently featured in part 2.
It’s very kind of you to commend my meager photographic skills. I got a new Huawei recently, and I thought the quality of my pictures seemed improved. I’m glad you, whose posts are always a joy to read, thanks in no small part to your great pics, seem to agree!
Some amazing metal but I can’t stop looking at that Dino. I guess I’d never really looked at them much before but I love its slightly different interpretation of the typical 70s wedge. I know it’s not a “real” Ferrari but it fits my pattern of gravitating towards the quieter or less popular Ferraris, e.g. the 400, 456 and FF. Great photos too!
That Scimitar – orangey-red with a purplish-red vinyl top and golden-brown “antique” effect vinyl interior – normally I’m all there for wild ’70s color combinations but that’s too many hot colors that are too similar to be so close together. And vinyl tops on wagons just look wrong to me. Vinyl tops are for coupes and sedans, wagons get woodgrain paneling.
That Scimitar looks as though it’s been extensively messed around with, inside and out. Vinyl roofs were very rare on the originals – they obviously don’t suit the lines – and the inside was a simpler (though no less cramped) place.
I’ve never seen them as “wagons” (estate cars). They’re part of a rare breed, the sporting hatchback coupe – Volvo ES1800, MGB-GT. The Mk II Capri took the whole idea mainstream.
I can’t speak to your comment about the vinyl, but the interior seems to me pretty normal if you compare it to others on Google images. You just have to pick the correct model: they changed a lot over the years. Your picture seems to be of an SE5 circa 1970. Here’s a photo I found of a 1974 SE5a — pretty much identical to the one feature in the piece.
Marvellous photos and a great day out. Looking forward to the French contingent.
But oh, that Dino! Understated style at its best.
I can’t think of any manufacturer who does understated, or any kind of elegance, any more – we are living with a generation of cars designed by people who grew up with Transformers and are now making them real.
Remember when Lexus was understated? Or Mercedes? Horrible mash-ups now, right across their ranges. The same goes for RR, Bentley, Lincoln, BMW… As far as I can tell, nobody makes discreet “Savile Row” cars any more – everyone’s gone “Carnaby Street”.
“but the Scimitar is not exactly pretty.”
Cannot believe you said that. In my eyes it is a very elegant, balanced design. No wonder it got produced (“available” is probably a better word seeing the low production figures) for about 18 years more or less the same form. Saw this 5 years ago in London and it made me looking at ads for a Scimitar.
side pic
… and rear pic
The Wolseley Hornet (and Riley Elf) are arguably the only cars ever built that wear their structure on the outside, by which I am ofcourse referring to the class structure. Who on earth else than a cardiganned snob from lower level management in local banking would purchase what is irremovably a Mini With Bits and expect it to be taken seriously as an upmarket status-marker? A gloriously comic high point of uptight English class-consciousness.
As for that poo-tinted Dino Fazza, well, hmm. When I were a lad – I’m now definitely old enough to use that line – these were frowned (if not spat) upon by the cognoscenti. And as that youngster, I agreed with the dismissal of the Bertone Bastard. However and but. Time does it’s marching thingy, and gives kindness to the car. It’s really not so bad, in fact, as a metallic brown doorstop, it’s really pretty hot. Even if there’ll always be too much car ahead of the back wheels for a sportster, and generally too much gawkiness for a Fazza.
But as for it being about as sweet as ’70’s Italian sports cars gave us, well, I’d gently suggest, Mr T 87, that you may have sampled a grape too many of the local produce. Which, to mash a Shakespearianism, doubtless added to the experience, but took away from the reportage.
Btw, what car owns the glorious metallic brown convertible derriere in front of the Jag Mk2 photo?
Nice cars. I´ll take the Datsun couple
So let me get this straight: the Wolseley is ridiculous because it’s a car made for snobs, but the Dino is nothing but a “Bertone Bastard” according to… er… snobs?
Aside from the Daytona and that Dino, I’d put the Khamsin and the Montreal up in my personal ’70s pantheon. I emphasize the “70s” aspect — the Miura and the Espada were ’60s cars. If you prefer the Silhouette, the Pantera, the Bora, the Lele, the Countach, the 400 or anything you care to mention over the Dino, I suggest you find a lasik clinic ASAP.
Which brings me to your last point: it’s a TR4. Here’s a better picture to help you with your recovery from that nasty ailment you seem to have.
(Just joshing you, of course, JB! :-))
Ah, yes, I may have been caught out by my own genius there re: snobbery, so we’ll just quietly brush that under the plush-pile carpet.
I may also be caught out by thinking of ’60’s cars, as the ’70’s weren’t really too flash for Italian sports beauties. But Bertone only ever did this Ferrari, and was never invited back, so I’m not alone. I reckon it’d have worked had it not been a 2+2. The stretch leaves it gangly, and anyway, as the +2 part is only for the double-amputees – making it a 2+2-2? – they shouldn’t have bothered.
I would actually choose the Countach LP 400 as my favourite. To me, it’s the only piece of ’70’s wedgism that works. (Obviously, not the later versions when vandals had glued stuff all over it). I wouldn’t care if it was a four and the doors didn’t scissor. It is just distractingly striking, and aruably also very beautiful too.
I have fine eyes, as someone fuzzy and a bit shapeless just told me.
Btw, I am putting together a post which shows why the unmatched beauty of the Austin Allegro VDP has influenced design ever since.
I love that bluebird