What. A. Year.
It started off as One Thing, mutated into something quite unlike anything Imaginable, and then Ended in an Apocalyptic 1984esque Cluster Fuckjumbo.
But, as the Bumper Sticker Idiom infers, these things happen.
With the departure of the 993, the 968 took over Daily Driver Duties for the last couple of months of us living in Brighton. Ahead of us 2020 was to be lived in Central London, the launchpad to what I had hoped would be numerous Road Trips, and thence Blog Posts from Continental and Domestic Roads; Scotland certainly beckoned..!
Removal Truck bulging, 968 Rear Springs sagging, we were all set for a Bloomsbury landing. One week before Lockdown.1 commenced; I wasn’t sure if that was Good Luck or Bad.
With a pleasant mild Spring, having the car parked on the Street wasn’t that much of a bother to me; and was quite convenient, being nearby, on a moment’s notice to do any work to it.
I hadn’t really gotten Elbows Deep in the 968 yet, so the Spring would start that journey. Learning about the Engine, the Chassis, the Components; the Car. In the Cabin: Club Sport Shelf and Custom Storage; elsewhere: Strut Brace, Coolant Header Tank and Headlights reparation.
When I list them out, I feel I had been quite productive..!
Remember when Lockdown 1.0 Ended..? It was like the Starting Pistol to the Resumption of Normal Life. I managed a few Trips down to the South Coast to visit my Dad who was helping [read doing most of the work ] with the Recaro Bucket restoration. Ordinarily I would have taken the M25 > M23 > A27 route down, but with a renewed appreciation for Fresh Air, Freedom and being in no particular hurry, I took the A class roads down. Single carriageway yes, but tree lined, sun flecked and surprisingly quiet of other road users. It was pretty perfect. The return journey along the same roads, permitting a stop at Paragon Porsche to drool at the selection of Big Tickets 911s they had on offer.
Towards the end of the Summer, a week’s camping in Devon with the 968 as the RoadTrip Wagon was perfect. It was obviously a very special trip to me for one particular reason..
..but also, being on the Open Road and enjoying the fresh Devonian Air from Exeter to Croyde Bay on the morning after a successful proposal, was magical. Sunshine pouring through the open Windows and Sunroof.
Then, unpacking the 968 and establishing a Base, its practicality is unquestionable; Tent, Kitchen, Bed, Wetsuits, Chairs and sundries all packed up / shoehorned inside.
I think I mentioned before that turning up in a Porsche anywhere presents itself as an occasion, but nowhere more so than Campsite; some people love it, smiling as you drive across a field in a Sports Car at 5mph. I think they love the ridiculousness, the irreverence of using a Porsche so practically. But really, it’s a car, used to its fullest; I’d do the same if I had a 991.2 GT2 RS.
I have been staying at the same Campsite for the better part of ten years, and each visit I get the same “Ah yes, you’re that Porsche guy” when I book a plot. I bloody love it.
The return journey back to London took in an overnight stay in Somerset, and once again opting to avoid the Motorways and instead take a course along the A361 proved very fortunate. That is not to say that I was driving too fast, nor recklessly, it’s a pleasure to drive the 968 at a speed where most modern Sports Cars would perhaps not feel alive. Driving at a speed that is 7/10ths in the 968 might only be 3/10ths for the new 911 , but that, to me, is exactly the point.
As the Autumnal months rolled in, a neighbour offered me his Underground Garage spot, for free, whilst his Classic underwent some work. It was a very generous offer, and one that I jumped at. As the weeks went by, it transpired that his Classic would be on the Ramps for quite some time [an experience I empathised with..!] and so the 968 would enjoy its Subterranean LockUp until the end of the year; Good Fortune and 2020 mentioned in the same breath..?!?
Another Lockdown..? Why not.. It really is difficult to imagine this is not the fictional work of the most pessimistically imaginative mind. Ironically, with the 968 tucked away in the warmth of Underground Storage, I didn’t get to much work on it. I think that with all the work I had done during the year, I really didn’t need or want to work on it. I took it out occasionally / when permitted for “Carburettor Cleaning” exercises, and the odd errand that required it. Oh, and I added a coupla decals to the Rear Quarter Glass..
Bolting a Go Pro to the 968 was fun too one evening, snapping the London Christmas Lights, and getting some Embankment driving footage; but more on that in a later Post.
Well, we’re leaving London [again] and moving a bit West. Quite far West actually, to a village southwest of Barnstaple in North Devon. Sad to leave..? Yes, of course; I love London. But this year has taken its toll on the Great City and had the Wind knocked out of it; Leisure, Tourism, Culture, the Arts.. They have all suffered, not to mention the People who depend on them for an income; it has been brutal all round.
But, in a bid to make a Positive Move during a year that seemed to make all the Decisions for you, escaping to North Devon for six months is a chance to take control. Plus, the House has a Garage.
Here is wishing you all a very Happy and Prosperous 2021 whatever you get up to and wherever you are.
Hasta Luego Amigos..
Surfer. Biker. Coder. Porsche.