A lot of you have been complaining about the lack of Australianess in this column. Too much about driving fast foreign cars, going to foreign auctions, drinking too much free French champagne, meeting too many fast foreign persons of the opposite sex and not enough paying attention to matters Southern Cross.
OK here’s your post Australia Day dose of the greatest motoring hits of Gondwanaland.
Let’s start with the Post Vintage Car Club of Tasmania display on the lawns of Parliament House in Hobart last month. Now to understand my reaction to this display you need to understand I had just been wandering around Dave Walsh’s Museum of Old and New Art which seems to have a lot to do with people killing themselves during bursts of kinky horizontal folk dancing. Surprisingly old Egyptian royals seem to be the worst offenders. Dave Walsh is a fan of very big Mercs and despite that, he has a sense of humour. His parking spot says ‘God’ and his partner’s says ’God’s Mistress’.
Anyway by the time I got to the car show I would have found a flat tyre erotic but there on the grass was one of the most beautiful cars I have ever seen and a collection of Holdens, Zephyrs, Triumphs and Healeys that brought on a tsunami of nostalgia. How could we forget bench seats? Dad driving the FJ, Mum near the door and me, standing next to Dad, trying to cover his eyes as we roared along the Princes Highway. The fun police have taken away many of the things that were great about this country.
