Last Sunday saw perhaps my last car show of the year at Glemham Hall. This show was an hour away going the extra miles on going on the main roads, or across country for forty five minutes with ten miles less. The weather was sunny and I had already packed the suncream just in case it was to get as hot as the weather men predicted. I set the Sat Nav to go the scenic route in order to save some time as I got up a little later than I had planned.

I was enjoying my trip down the country roads until three cars arrived at a massive rate of miles an hour to my rear bumper which I didn’t appreciate. The lead car being a white Porshe 911, second was an old school mini with a big exhaust the size of a dustbin, and a I think it was a 355 Ferrari. The Porshe made a big deal overtake dropping umpteen gears giving it the large. The mini risked a lot as we were coming to a corner, trying to prove he was a man. The mini went passed sounding rather lame with the big exhaust smoking under full power. The Ferrari had a bit of sense and didn’t try to overtake. Just after the corner there was a road closed sign and the idiotic Porshe and mini driver were turning around at a junction to go back the way we had all just come from. I could see the Porshe driver was in his forties and obviously in possession of a small man sausage, trying to prove that his balls were bigger than his manhood to the others. The mini driver younger in his twenties I would say was going to need a replacement engine shortly with the amount of blue smoke coming from it and that made me happy. As I indicated and slowed to do the same maneuver the Ferrari decided that he could nip up the inside of me and catch his friends up. So three ‘boys’ with a combined IQ of my shoe size sped off into the distance. I made a point to look for them at the car show to express my concern over their dangerous driving. Unfortunately I didn’t see them there, shame!
I prompted my co-pilot Tom(Tom) to do a detour and obliged to get me on the main roads again at the cost of adding another fifteen minutes on top of the journey and burning more fuel. Eventually I got to the village where a mile or so out there was a traffic jam with a sign to say expect delays due to the car show. Epic, I was now in traffic, hot weather and drinking fuel like a drunken pirate drinking beer on shore leave.
Just under an hour later I pulled into the driveway to the show only to be directed by a marshal on a straight bit of track who was stopping the cars. “Go straight down, but don’t go fast because of the dust”. I thought he was winding me up to be honest. ‘Don’t go fast’, the chance would be a fine thing. where the track was loose and dusty I wouldn’t go to fast for fear of flicking up whatever all over the paintjob on my car.
It was such a popular show that the allocated spaces for each year had already filled up. The rest of us later arrivals were asked what year we were then directing us to another area. I swear they were making it up as they went along. They did try and park us up per decade of manufacture.

I got out had a drink and set about wiping of the dust from the car. The show was split into four sections; private entries, car clubs, military and commercial. Throughout the day I took nearly three hundred photos, but I cut it down to two hundred. This half being this post where I walked around the private entries.
The show was packed out in every direction.








































I spotted a couple of TR7’s one with a v8 which would have been named a TR8, but I didn’t see any badges for it. Perhaps it was a retro fitted v8? Then the nice example in gold.














































I will finish up with this Lambo which was getting plenty of attention. My next post tomorrow will start with another Lambo but a classic, it’s still as mad as this example.





Glemham Hall (part 2) tomorrow!