Classic rumblings

Singapore is one of the most expensive places in the world to run a car. I wouldn't dream of owning one. It's probably cheaper to get taxis hourly, day and night, seven days a week. This is not an obvious setting for the start of a long-distance endurance rally for classic vehicles. But given the cost of participation in all such events, maybe Raffles Hotel, Singapore, was an appropriate choice after all. Some 70 starters were listed for departure on the morning of Sunday 1 February. The event was the 'Road to Mandalay' rally, which would take them from Singapore up through Malaysia and Thailand to Mandalay, in the middle of Burma. OK, Myanmar (I see that even the BBC has given in on that one).

This was the first rally event of any kind I've witnessed at first hand. The cars ranged in date from a vast 1907 Itala and a 1924 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost to a 1974 Leyland P76.

The Leyland P76 rumbles out of Raffles Hotel into Beach Road

It was interesting to see the P76. This was a valiant but commercially unsuccessful effort by Leyland in Australia to develop a car suited to the local market, with a boot allegedly big enough to accommodate a fully grown sheep, and a variant of the Buick-derived V8 engine used in Britain by Rover. There were several Bentleys from the 1920s, four Chevrolets from the 1930s, and some sporting elegance in the form of an Alvis or two, an AC, and four Jaguars – a 1938 SS100, a 1956  XK140 (driven by the Sultan of Selangor), a 1958 XK150, and a 1959 Mk 1.

Bruising Bentleys, 1929 and 1925 respectively

When it comes to cars, we all have personal favourites. Parked out in front of the hotel the day before the start was a 1934 Packard convertible. That awoke memories of the 1937 Packard 120 station wagon my father bought for £200 as family transport in the very early 1950s – a lot of money in those days, when cars were in short supply and our 1949 L-type Vauxhall Velox wasn't big enough to carry a family of six in comfort on long journeys.  The 1954 Sunbeam Alpine reminded me of the 1956 Sunbeam Mark III (the last last incarnation of the Sunbeam-Talbot 90) that I drove during my last year at university. There was a fine 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air Convertible, very much the kind of American car one lusted after as a 10-year-old, with the sort of styling that the original Vauxhall Victor sought to emulate, unsuccessfully. A 1960 Chevrolet Impala was pretty impressive, although a product of the time when Detroit started to lose its grip on reality, not to regain it for many years.

Behind the stone guard is the classic radiator grille of a 1934 Packard

Sunbeam Alpine, derived from the Sunbeam-Talbot 90, arguably the best-looking car in the rally

There were some other cars from the 1960s and 1970s, but it's hard to get enthusiastic about a Mercedes-Benz 220SE, or a Ford Mustang, or a Datsun 240Z. But that's a personal thing. Your mileage, as they say, may vary.

I'm not sure why I still find classic cars exciting. I loved owning my first few cars, from a 1932 Austin Seven (£10) onwards, but didn't particularly enjoy wielding a spanner. I certainly couldn't afford today's cost of ownership, and wouldn't have anywhere to garage a classic car if someone offered me one as a gift. Even driving one, in today's overcrowded traffic conditions, would be less enjoyable than it was exactly 50 years ago in July, when I started driving lessons. But they are appealing to look at, and many of them – at least those with six cylinders or more – make a wonderful sound.

Classic Detroit iron, the 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air. Most American cars still had separate chassis in the 1950s, which made building convertibles easier

Talking to a few people at the start, I was trying to find out how much mechanical expertise the competitors had. The rally organisers were providing quite a bit of technical support, but even a vast bank balance wouldn't do you much good if your radiator sprang a massive leak deep in rural Thailand.  I must check on progress in subsequent days. Meanwhile I can fantasise.