My father is crazy about old American cars. Even when we lived in Burundi in the heart of Africa he somehow managed to find a Lincoln Continental in the middle of nowhere to renovate. Sometimes he’d pick me up from school in it and I can just remember how embarrassed it used to make me. The whole school would hear him coming from about 5 miles away and people would look around to see who was being picked up in this beast. I’d basically run into the car and tell my father to drive away as fast as possible – something which he used to find HILARIOUS. Of course now that I am older I realize that I was just being a teenage brat and funnily enough I now love classic cars almost just as much as my dad does.
Last week, Mark and I went to the ‘Beach Hop’ – a classic car festival which takes place in the Coromandel. Seeing old American cars cruising up and down this old kiwi town felt a little bit like a vignette from American Graffiti. It was just missing a drive-in diner and waitresses on roller-blades really. We only had a couple of hours to wander around but I’d love to come back and spend a weekend down this memory lane one day.