Tamsin Coxen & Dave Simpson

 

A holiday in France.

 

We met by the side of the road. I was on my way back from a local run to Land's End in my 1931 Box Saloon, "Olive", (OV 2048). This run had been organised by Tony Barfield to help greet "finishers" on the Lowestoft- Land's End "side-to-side" and provide some extra marshalling help. The day was foul, permanent mizzle and major misfortune having attended one of our local entrants, Len Moyle, in the form of an extremely nasty accident on the Ilminster by-pass. He finished, but was evidently far from well, and it was generally a subdued bunch of Cornish Austin 7 drivers who were sitting glumly around at the signing-in spot. A break in the weather signalled the departure of those of us not marshalling and I set off for home.

 

A few miles, a very few miles, up the road Olive died. Inexplicably and with no warning. After a few obvious checks, I decided that a warm cosy garage would be a better place to carry on searching for the problem and suggested that my passenger should call the R.A.C. on his mobile phone. The R.A.C. duly attended and the R.A.C. man was just starting his inspection when a yellow Chummy (GH 8311) pulled in. Dave Simpson, the Chummy driver, was on his way to visit friends having successfully completed the "side-to-side" and offered assistance. For a little while he and the R.A.C. representative got in one another's way, whilst my passenger and I watched. The problem: a stripped distributor drive gear. The solution, R.A.C. style, a tow truck home. The solution: a spare drive gear that Dave just happened to be carrying. O.K., who would normally carry one? Even on a long-distance trip? Only those of us who have had difficulties I would suggest! Promising faithfully to return the gear the next day to Dave's friends, I went on home, Dave departed to his friends', Nick and Rose Morgan, and the R.A.C. man also went back to his base.

 

Returning the gear led to the usual type of Austin 7 chat and the discussion of continental trips and the JOGLE. I was keen to do both and deplored my lack of volunteer navigators/co-drivers, so Dave left me his phone number and suggested that I could consider him if I couldn't find anyone else.

 

Time passed and I found a co-driver for the JOGLE, but contacted Dave to ask if he was doing the run himself. We chatted and planned a motoring trip to Northern France, discovering we both had an interest in the First World War and a taste for champagne. The latter came after the JOGLE when I rang him in after I had celebrated my finish by downing a bottle! I probably was more than slightly inebriated at the time!

 

August found us setting off in Dave's Chummy for a week of touring in France. Two days before we departed, the engine was on the kitchen table as the clutch toggle levers were being repaired and thrust bearing being replaced given that part of the outer cage had broken off. The usual 7 race against time…. The mileage being recorded at this point as 7777.7 we took to be a clear good luck sign. We took the Eurostar train service through the tunnel, missing our original train as the security check took so long. I suspect the officers just wanted an excuse to have a thorough look at the Chummy. We caught the next train and were whisked to France, causing great interest to a Japanese tourist. Route planning had us aiming straight for the Champagne area, as, perhaps a two-day drive and accommodation to be found en route. Although mid-August is peak season, there does not seem to be quite such extreme pressure on accommodation as there is in England. That said, it was two rather weary and grumpy travellers who ended up in a travel lodge that evening. My attempts to learn to drive on the Chummy hadn't gone very well and I was conscious that I was abusing both the car and the rare privilege of being allowed to drive it! My double-declutching is still somewhat unreliable and on Olive, I only use it when changing down and not up and so remembering to do so both ways was causing me much concentration and not a little swearing. The day had also included some drizzle and we were worried about the weather prospects for our week. Hood up is nowhere near as much fun as hood down.

Tamsin in Picnic Mode!

The next day dawned bright and sunny and indeed the rest of our stay was in fabulous weather. In fact, if it hadn't been for the breeze created by driving, I would have found the temperatures in the eighties too high. We negotiated our night's accommodation in advance down in Champagne and could look forward to a scenic day's motoring around part of the 'route touristique de Champagne'. A stroll around Peronne town centre took in a trip to supermarket and patisserie to buy our picnic lunch and we set off through the idyllic countryside. An early stop took in Coucy-le-Chateau, a 13th Century fortified town perched on a hillside with superb views of the surrounding land. Later we passed field after field of precision-planted vines, ending up in the attractive hamlet of Baulne-en-Brie. Encountering a local, he proceeded to have an in-depth discussion with Dave about fishing in the local river. Well, I think that is what was being discussed as the local's accent made following his French quite a challenge and he spoke no English. Actions seemed to speak louder than words, although I still wonder what the fate of the already-bolted lettuces in his wheelbarrow was to be.

 

No trip to Champagne could be complete without a visit to a 'cave' or champagne cellar and so the following day we planned a route around the Marne valley looking for a 'maison de champagne' to visit. Dominating the valley, above Chateau Thierry is a huge monument, which we felt we must visit; if at first, only to discover exactly what it was. It turned out to be an American monument to their soldiers who fell in battles around the Marne in WW1 and close by, was their graveyard. I hadn't appreciated that the white slabs we see for wartime graves were unique to the British. The Americans have white crosses (or Stars of David), the French beige crosses and the Germans iron crosses. Every road seems to have its roadside WW1 graveyard and so we walked around several whilst we were touring. Indeed we picnicked outside a couple, which seemed almost sacrilegious at first but probably would have been approved of by the soldiers who were fighting to maintain such a way of life. Close to the American memorial and graveyard was the scene of the biggest battle on the Marne with a smaller memorial and guns. The Chummy eased into a space between two field guns and proved an additional tourist attraction.

The American Monument

Maison Pannier in Chateau Thierry is to be recommended as a champagne house to tour. A charming young lady took us on an English tour with a couple of Scots whose broad accents had us, let alone her, puzzled at times. The cellars are in a converted 13th Century quarry and fascinating. The tipple is also very pleasant! Leaving here, Dave spotted an excess of oil under the car, an unusual feature for this particular vehicle, he checked we had a full complement of oil and said that he wanted to check the oil levels at our next stop. I spotted an interesting looking church and so we parked to have a look around. Calamity! The oil pipe had sheared off and we had absolutely no oil at all, all lost in about three miles. Of all the multitude of spares Dave had carefully packed, nothing seemed to fit the bill and he endeavoured a temporary repair hindered by a curious French motorcyclist who continued to talk at him all the while. Patiently explaining that we were English and needed a garage where we could purchase more oil he gave directions and then proceeded to address the rest of his conversation at Dave who still was trying to fix things up and could only grunt back. Yes, I agreed, soldering would be ideal, but… The temporary repair held, the oil was replenished and we headed to our accommodation and several much needed beers. I was just extremely relieved that I hadn't been driving during the day and it wasn't therefore directly my fault.

 

The next morning and the repair, a 2BA nut and bolt through the union at the crankcase with fuse wire wrapped around the thread to stop it undoing acting as a stopper, was still holding and so we set off to the heart of Champagne and Epernay. This time we visited the most famous champagne house of them all, Moet & Chandon. The English tour was very slick and we were continually having the grandeur and dominance of Moet impressed upon us. Once again we had a little sample… Nobody seemed to mind us leaving the Chummy parked in the Moet car park as we went off into the town to buy coffee, lunch and postcards. Generally all the tourist stops seemed very relaxed about a small, charming car adding to their interest. The afternoon saw us heading down a different section of the 'route de Champagne' and onto the flat plains outside Soissons. Vast fields of grain, arrow straight roads, whistling winds and lumbering trucks. A big difference in scenery from the gentle slopes of vines. We stopped in Pleurs and peered hopefully into several overgrown garages trying to spot something older than a Renault 4. All to no avail.

 

Our champagne quest being finished, we now switched our attention back to war sites, both wishing to look around the Somme. I was particularly keen to visit the Thiepval Monument, designed by Lutyens, having seen the model and plans for it at Castle Drogo, Drewsteignton, Devon. On the way, we wished to visit the car museum in Compiegne as by now, we were feeling that there could be no old cars left anywhere in France as we had not seen anything, unlike a similar trip around Britain where old cars appear regularly on all our minor roads. Booking accommodation ahead again meant that we had a lazy drive back through the countryside and could meander our way on the smallest of roads shown on the Michelin maps. Our rooms turned out to be an entire suite in a converted mill. Very chintzy and pretty. I suspect that the car's photograph will be in next year's publicity material as the owner enthused over it.

Dave and Publicity Shot

 

On the way to Compiegne the next day we visited the Armistice Clearing where 1918 saw the ended of WW1 but also where Hitler insisted the surrender of France was signed in WW2. A real case of rubbing one's nose in it. There is a museum there with an awesome collection of war-time photographs contained in little 'what the butler saw' type viewers, introducing a 3D aspect. Very sobering and thought-provoking. In Compiegne we were disappointed to discover that the car museum only permitted guided tours and we would have to join one in French or return another day. Another day it will have to be, at least it makes a good excuse for returning!

 

Despite not feeling up to a guided tour around motorcars in French, we joined a French tour of the 'Caverne de Dragone' underground military site situated on the famous 'Chemin des Dames'. The route owes its name to pre-revolutionary princesses but marked a strategic ridge in WW1, much fought over. In fact, the film loop inside the caves showed that it had been fought over in Roman times and in the Franco-German wars of the 1870s. During the First World War, its ownership had changed many times, including a period when two walls and an eight-foot gap separated the French from the Germans. Much observation of each other took place, but no fighting. The surrounding fields produced shrapnel, an eighty-year old souvenir.

 

Further journeying returned us to Coucy-le-Chateau to stay, a fairly remarkable chance, as we had not remembered its name when booking ahead. The hotel owner waxed enthusiastic over the Chummy and told us of the Bugatti his father gave away in 1942. There were some spares if he could just lay his hands on them…! We left for our tour of the Somme. The Thiepval Monument is huge beyond imagining and bears the names of some 73000 missing British troops who fell somewhere on the Somme. There is also a small graveyard to known and unknown British and French soldiers. As we approached we could hear the eerie wailing of bagpipes and found a coach party from Sheffield ahead of us, complete with their attendant piper. We found them again later in the day at the monument to the Newfoundland Regiment. This counts as a British site, as one of Britain's colonial regiments and it is here that a series of trenches have been left. They are grassy and full of wild flowers now, but I really had a sense of being spooked as I looked across the one field, which was the distance to the German lines. On a brilliant August day with the sun blazing down from a bright blue sky, it did not seem possible that this tranquil place could have been a site of such destruction, mud and blood. Recreated trenches are available in the back garden of the Café Tommy in a neighbouring village. Sitting over a beer we listened to a tape of war songs and looked into trench scenes.

Lutyens' Thiepval Monument

A last night treat staying in up-market Peronne and we aimed back to England. I drove first against a strong and gusty headwind. The first really difficult driving conditions I'd faced and needing complete concentration. After a while I was thankful to hand the wheel over to Dave, especially for the busy section around Calais and back onto the Eurostar. We took a scenic route back through Kent to his home, completing about 800 miles of mainly trouble-free motoring. Our route included the now customary beer stop. Back in England and the questions from the admiring crowd mirrored those of the French: "How old?", "How fast?","Where do you get the tyres", but then, the question that only the English seem to ask, "How much is the car worth". Welcome home!

 

Tamsin Coxen & Dave Simpson