Unless you count Catholic school, Rolling Stones concerts at Wembley Stadium and working for Greenpeace – I’ve never really engaged is serious cult activity…. until now… … .. ..
The 20th bi-annual International Friends of 2CV meeting was held for five days at a motorcycle Grand Prix race track in Alcaniz, Spain.And if these two opening sentences don’t contain enough contradictions already – stand by.
Geoff and I have had Charlie Charleston for a couple of months now.
We think the car is cool, fun and quirky; always raises a smile from others, sometimes brings mechanical worries and frowns, is certainly no power-house of a machine – but when all is said and done, it is only a machine. Or so we thought….
This is not a car, this is a way of life
The declaration is certainly clearly true for many of the people who have travelled thousands of miles to be here. Some have been making the meeting pilgrimage since the 1970s. It is a 600cc machine that dictates holiday destinations and by the look of it, what many people’s savings are spent on.
More than four thousand cars descended on the baked hillside at Motorworld, Alcaniz. A tented city began to slowly emerge, to the relentless sound of metal on metal as pegs and poles were finally cracked into the iron-hard ground. Eventually the chalky white hillside was peppered with stiffly flying national flags, multi-coloured tents and cars, and echoed to hoots and toots as 2CV club members greeted old friends from the previous meet and paraded their treasured cars up and down the campsite. The peacock display was clearly much too important than to be slowed down by the brutal 45degree heat.
The Purists and the Pimps
They came in every shape and even size imaginable. Classic cars, lovingly restored with exquisite attention to detail vied for attention alongside those with every kind of change, addition and alteration you could think of. Men and women in their 70s traded notes and admiring glances with all the young dudes, united in common appreciation.
Escape from Alcaniz
We newbie owners lasted one sweat-soaked, breath-gasping day and night before we rolled up Chubby the tent , stuffed everything back into Charlie and drove in the opposite direction, retreating back to the tree-lined camp site 40 kms away – including bar and pool!!!
We resorted to day-tripping, shopping for supplies and casting incredulous eyes over the rally cars.
We traded travelling intel with a lovely young Spanish man who has spent the last four years trundling around the world in a 2CV forty countries and two full engine repairs later and the same front tyres that he left on (Michelin is the way to go apparently!), he still grins when he tells the tales. All I can say is that 2CV owners are hard core. Geoff is still wondering if are they hard core or soft in the head – or a bit of both?
Can’t fail to smile
It is undeniable that there is something joyful about being surrounded by so many little ducks; seeing them scuttling around town, taking roundabouts at seemingly unfeasible angles and watching all those spectators who are unfamiliar with the car, its suspension and other characteristics simply stand back and watch with astonishment. We have been met with friendly smiles, encouraging words, sound advice and always good humour. As cults go – you could do a lot worse.
I have a theory that was an hallucinogenic frog and, under the influence of an australilan, you licked its back.
What a great find! So when are you getting the matching 2CV tattoos?