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Okay, enough name dropping for now and back to the topless käfer. With me was Adil Jal Darukhanawala of Zigwheels and Kurt Rippholz of VW. The three of us piled into the beautiful Beetle that belonged to VW’s own collection of classic cars. I was “navigating” for the first half of the rally, while Adil was behind the wheel. Kurt was squeezed into the rear seat; his role was that of co-navigator/co-driver/co-cheerleader/co-German translator/co-facilitator, all rolled into one. I had an official looking time sheet and a pad with two stopwatches mounted on it — as if one isn’t confusing enough. And of course, the tulips, which thankfully were mostly accurate. Mostly being the key word.
The day before, the briefing by the clerk of the course was brilliant, clear and explicit, but I didn’t understand anything. So I went to the rear portion of the Schloss to see the cars parked there. There were some breathtaking classics all right, and parked in one corner was a silver Mercedes-Benz G-U-L-L-W-I-N-G. It was so low-key and low profile compared to the other cars around, but for me, it was the centre of my solar system. And the other cars? How’s this list: Facel Vega HK500, Dino, all sorts of Beetles and Microbuses, 356s and 911s, Aston Martin DB6 Volante, 300 SL Roadster, Horchs and Wanderers, Ferrari 275 GTS and 365 GTC, Bugatti Type 35, Fiat 8V, Karmann Ghias and a VW Rometsch coupe... and did I mention the XK120 Fixed Head Coupe and, hold your breath, a proper C-Type Jaguar?
And here I was, being passed by, for heaven’s sake, Jackie Ickx. We didn’t bother with the time charts, calculations and other irritants. We were out for a memorable drive in a classic across the fabulous German countryside. The Beetle’s hearty boxer at the rear kept pace without missing a beat, chugging along the marvellous twisting roads. Many cars passed us, while we were cheering them along. And surprisingly for a German, Kurt was like a tourist, snapping pictures of the Bergischland as it’s called. I don’t blame him, because the vistas that unfolded beyond every curve were worth picture postcards. The roads wound up and down and were often dappled in the shadows of huge trees. The sun was shining and I was in a cabriolet! What more could one ask for? A few litres of unleaded would do very well, thank you.
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