Ascalon

Here’s another little story about the vagaries of American law enforcement agencies. Having once worked in a Havana cigar factory, I won’t smoke anything else. Of course one cannot import Cuban cigars into the US, but on one of my regular trips where I flew into Miami I was confident of being able to buy some there. Sure enough, the first cigar shop I tried produced some from under the counter, although the owner wanted to see my passport to check that I wasn’t an American undercover cop. He would only sell me a box of twenty five, though. These lasted about a week, so I had no more until I went to San Francisco. Checking into my hotel I asked the concierge about getting some Cuban cigars there ( a good hotel concierge can get a guest ANYTHING. See below ). He wrote an address on a piece of paper and handed it to me. Rocking up at the shop, the owner said he didn’t have my brand, but that he could get them in a few hours and that he’d have them delivered to my hotel at about six o/clock. I was in my room at the appointed time and there was a knock on the door. I opened it only to find four armed and armoured Drug Enforcement Alcohol and Tobacco agents standing there. They burst into the room and zip locked me, before dragging me off to the local slammer. I was allowed one phone call. Five minutes later I was given a lift in a police car back to my hotel. re hotel concierges. On yet another visit to the USA I ordered a hire car at Los Angeles airport for my drive to Las Vegas. I specified a Bentley Continental GTC which was on their list of available cars. When I turned up at the hire desk no Bentley was available. They gave me a Chrysler Sebring, possibly the worst car in the World. Hours later when I checked in at the “Wynn” hotel in Vegas, I told the concierge about this story. “ Would you still like a Bentley, sir ? “ he asked. I said yes. “ Now or later ? “, he replied. I told him later. “ Oh, sir “ he called as I walked away, “ what colour would you like ?.

The only part of my comment that’s not true is the location of my American chums. Although this happened about twenty years ago, I still feel it necessary to protect my pals identities, although they did hold the jobs I stated. For all I know the size of purchases in the US may now be limited. The quantities I spoke of were a tiny fraction of the tons seized by the FBI as evidence. Incidentally, Medecin sans Frontiers, were happy to take it all from me, they even sent a van to collect it.

Some years ago when the upmarket outfitter Simpson’s of Piccadilly was still around, ( who remembers that extraordinary curved glass shop front window ? ) I spent about £1000 quid one Saturday afternoon on delightfully fabulous and highly attractive cashmere sweaters. The patterns and colours were just like a first class acid trip. Within a month every one of them had golf ball sized holes in them. I don’t know what part moths play in nature’s balance, but they sure as s—t completely unbalanced my bank balance.

The banning of mothballs by the EU reminds me of a similar story. Two American friends of mine, one an Assistant District Attorney and one a Texas Ranger, both of Dallas, Texas, were astonished when I told them that aspirin could only be sold in very limited quantities, about sixteen tablets per sale, I think, in the U.K. This was because of another EU ban. They both commiserated with me hugely, especially since all three of us consumed aspirin by the fistful after a night out on the town well lubricated by gallons of beer and pints of Jack Daniels. A week or two after I got back to England a very large parcel arrived at my house from the USA. I could barely lift it. When I opened it it was full of small boxes of aspirin about fifty tabs per box. I later learned that aspirin, when ground up finely, is used to cut cocaine to make it go further. My pals had “ borrowed “ a box from the evidence room of the main police station and sent it to me. To this day I don’t know how it got through Gatwick with being stopped !

Oh mate, as the once proud owner of a beautiful silver Jaguar “E “ Type Series III V12 drop head, I can attest to it being one of those, at least if I’m right in identifying the grille surround as being a chrome trim. If it isn’t a chrome trim ( I removed mine since I thought it was vulgar ), then it is one of the earlier six cylinder cars. I well remember that huge one piece bonnet. It was secured at the back by a pissant little catch that frequently didn’t lock. One day I braked at the approach to a roundabout and the whole front view through the windscreen became silver. The catch hadn’t secured and the bonnet was pivoting up and forwards on its hinges just behind the front bumper. The more I braked the higher it became and the less became the forward view. Rightly or wrongly I decided to accelerate onto the roundabout ( a ) in the hope that no other car already had the right of way, and (b) I could remember where the exit was to get off the roundabout. Luckily I got both guesses right. Incidentally, when I bought the Jag in about 1979 I had ten grand to spend on a classic sports car. Visiting a classic car dealer I saw two beautiful convertible cars in his showroom. They were both metallic silver with pale grey leather interior, black double duck hoods and chrome wire wheels. One was the Jag as per above, and one was am Aston Martin DB5 Volante. The Jag was priced at about £7k and the Aston was £9995.00. With ten grand to spend I could have bought either of them. I decided against the Aston because of the running costs, so I bought the Jag. It was a 1972 build car when Jaguar and Lucas were going down the shitter fast, so it’s eventual running costs in repairs were probably equal to or greater than the Aston. Ten years later I sold the Jag for a colossal amount of money. Had I have bought the DB5 and sold it ten years later, I’d be looking at well over a half a million.

Thanks for reminding me about IMCDB. And also someone else here for doing the same re Tippi Hedren ( correct spelling ). She, of course, appeared in the film “ The Birds “. In this film her Australian co star Rod Taylor drove a metallic pale green Aston Martin DB2/4 drop-head . My dad, who sold this car to an American Air Force colonel when we lived in Norfolk back in the 1960’s, always swears that I learned to drive in this car. First of all I didn’t, I learned to drive in an old 1948 snot green coloured Ford Pilot V8 , and secondly I remember our Aston as being pale metallic ice blue. The Old Man has long since permanently hung up his string backed driving gloves, but for my own enlightenment I’ll see if IMCDB can advise me who’s correct.

Try mothballs. They were banned by the EU, but can still be found, especially in old fashioned hardware shops. Mice hate ‘em. I put about a dozen on a plastic tray right next to each tyre. Alternatively, if it is just the car you are worried about ( some years ago I had to have a Daimler Dart SP250 largely rewired because either mice or rats had lunched well on the plastic insulation ), you should put a largish square of chicken wire mesh under each tyre where it touches the ground. The little buggers just won’t even try to clamber over it. That’s all it takes. A friend of mine wired his mesh squares into the mains. Quite unnecessary, all he succeeded in doing was was electrocuting his wife’s Siamese cat.

I’ve had a 1951 XK 120 drophead and a 1959 Austin Healey 3000 Mk 1 both painted in Old English White. Your description is exactly right. Funnily enough, it is also the colour that English Heritage suggest I use on the exterior of my Grade II listed house many years ago. I had a small touch up tin of that colour and I touched up odd bits of woodwork around the less exposed parts of the house. It matched perfectly but flaked off about two months later. That might have had something to do with the woodwork being 650 years old, but since I bought that Halfords pot in 1984 I expect that the paint had perished.

I paid exactly half of that price for mine, a newly fully restored car, which came with a three inch file of paperwork, dozens of restoration pics and a fully loaded memory stick.

Now I’ve learned more about her, it’s no wonder I got the bums rush from her on that morning.

I’ve had three TR 6’s. One white, one red and one magenta. Because of the small visible frontal area of most sports cars I always told my then wife to drive everywhere on dipped main beam. She always disputed the need for this, but grudgingly did it. When we split up and she moved to France and took the Magenta car, she obviously chose not to follow my instructions. One morning on a clear summers day, she was commuting on her short daily trip and a tractor pulled out of a side road. End of car, end of driver. When on the rare occasions I think of this, I call to mind the black painted rear panel that constitutes the rear end of TR6’s. When I owned the car I fitted it with after market high intensity rear fog lamps. The owners of all small profile sports cars should bear this in mind. After owning three Aston Martins of various colours , I eventually acquired one painted in their green racing colour. I believe it is called Californian Sage. It is , however, nearly invisible when driving in leafy country lanes, so I ALWAYS drive on dipped main beam, irrespective of daylight conditions. Not only that, but in addition to the sense of patriotism I feel,I have had my car trimmed in the Aston Martin racing colours of their original green plus yellow grille surround,yellow mirrors and a yellow stripe over the car. If any SOB pulls out in front of me it’ll be because he’s blind or stupid, or both !

I’d like to submit a few pictures . Can you please direct me to whatever part of this forum that may provide guidance on how to do so ? Thanks.

I should have also said that she was renowned for appearing in raunchy shows and movies, and was, in her day, a household name. A mate of mine has just dropped in for a quick snifter. He maintains that her surname was Richmond. I’m not so sure, I think it might have been either Mortlake or Putney.

I can’t remember what her full name was. It might have been Fiona Twickenham, or Fiona Goring ( something Thameside related anyway ) but she had a red Vitesse convertible with chrome wire wheels and a white roof. When I lived in a flat above an antique shop in Westbourne Grove, Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea , she was dating the owner of the shop. The car was generally to be seen parked outside on most Saturday nights, but it was gone by early on the Sunday morning, although I never heard it start up. I always reckoned that in order to avoid publicity, the boyfriend would bump start it down the slightly sloping road opposite number 209 where he had the shop. Mind you, the car was enough to catch the eye, let alone it’s number plate, which was PEN 15. She later had a red Ferrari Dino 246 to which she transferred the plate. I had a yellow 246 at the time. I always tried to park mine either in front or behind hers, but parking was a bugger even then. One time I was able to park mine nearly opposite on the other side of the road. I got up at sparrows fart on one Sunday morning and sat in my Dino waiting for her to appear. I’m not sure even now why I bothered, although she was very hot, hot, hot, so why not give it a go, eh ? Eventually, at about noon, she finally appeared wearing a very short white crocheted mini skirt, not a lot of underwear, if any, and knee length white patent leather high heeled boots. I was so stiff ( from sitting in the Dino for hours on end !!!! ) that I more fell out rather than got out of my car, nearly losing a door to a passing number 15 bus. I staggered and crawled across the road and cried out something crap like “ Hi Fiona, I think that a red one is much better than a yellow one, don’t you ? “, only to receive the reply “ F—k off, you w——r ! “. Back in those days I thought that I was God’s gift to women, but clearly not this one ! Shortly afterwards I replaced the Dino with a 1967 Austin Healey 3000 . I don’t know if it would have pulled Fiona Marlow, but it sure as s—t pulled every other bit of King’s Road totty.

The trouble is that the Herald is such an unpleasant car to drive. It’s even more horrible than my 23 year old daughters 1959 Ford Anglia, which now she has sensibly swapped for an Alfa Romeo Giulietta. I bought it because I didn’t want my five dogs buggering up my Audi RS4 V8 estate when I took them for a walk. Unless it’s going to be a worthwhile money maker, which I doubt, it’ll have to go. Cheers.

Sound advice. Much appreciated. Cheers.

That’s a tough choice to make. I could say the Aston, but with the rubbish weather we get in the U.K., it gets hardly any use, apart from touring Tuscany once a year and I could always hire a nice car for two or three weeks every summer. I’d probably miss the Audi. It’s ferociously fast and FWD. Not only that, but with triple black colouring it looks bloody good. Cheers

It’s not such a bad choice to have to make. If the whole lot goes and I add a few quid to the proceeds, I’ll probably buy a DB 11 Volante, ‘ er indoors has already test driven one and liked it. Cheers.

I had a mild stroke last month. This means that I cannot drive for at least a year, if not longer. It therefore makes sense to get rid of some cars. Any of these worth keeping more than any other ? Aston Martin DB9 Volante, Alfa Romeo Guilia Quatrofoglio, Alfa Romeo 156 GTA Sportwagon, Triumph Herald 13/60 Estate, Audi RS4 V8 Estate. cheers.