Blog Number 8 November 2014 - Part 2
Laon Done and Dusted.
The plan had been to take the MPH on the Laon Historique but from the above you will realise it was not to be. Having booked and paid, we were committed so Tom Coldicott and I broke out our good friend the XK 150 and set off.
Laon is a spectacular walled city about two and half hours south of Calais just off the A26. Each year, for a long weekend in June, they close off the centre of town except to a hoard of old cars billed as coming from across Europe. This year there were about 550, of which I reckon 450 were British so it’s a French organised event with mainly British participation. I need to be careful what I say but I would venture the opinion that if I were planning a drinks party in a distillery, I might hesitate before giving the job to these particular organisers. Having said that, what was missing in organisational flair was more than made up for by Gallic charm and enthusiasm.
Cars arrive on Friday and are garrisoned around the town; the fun starts on Saturday. Two separate streams, one a concours d’elegance for the pre-war and featured marques and the other a tulip based run, through very appealing countryside, for everyone else. In truth there were not that many really old cars; a twelve-litre Simplex with no front brakes being the most noteworthy. There was also a buckboard veteran as well as a rather splendid type 35 Bugatti. This year’s featured marques were Bugatti and Renault Alpine but as I mentioned, only one of the former turned out to mix it with a raft of Alpines.
The French seem to specialise in rather down-at-heel old motors. I’m told it’s something to do with the taxman so there was a smattering of enchanting tin in various states of honourable decrepitude. This was particularly true of the old motorcycles that thundered around the town making a fearful but delightful din.
After a little fettling on Friday afternoon when a maladjusted SU caused a small problem with the XK, we settled for a very pleasant dinner at our out of town hotel on the edge of a serene lake. Dining was al fresco as sea birds and small sailboats plied the waters. The Hotel du Golf de l’Ailette in Chamouille has lovely rooms, friendly, helpful staff, a good pool, a nice restaurant and keen pricing. About fifteen kilometres from the city, I can thoroughly recommend it.
On Saturday we set off for the rally meeting point where the entire contingent proceeded up the hill into the town to be greeted by, this time, a very efficient welcoming group who saw us in, provided the required accoutrements and had us adequately parked in short order. It was only the directions for getting us to the rendezvous point that made the process less than perfect.
The entire contingent was divided into two groups that proceeded on tulip directed tours of the surrounding countryside. It was cleverly done as one set of cars went off in a clockwise direction and the other counter clock. We all met up about 50 miles away from Laon at Le Familistere, a model workers village built in the mid nineteenth century by industrialist Jean-Baptiste Godin. If you took the trouble to look around, there was much of interest. Unfortunately, this is where the organisation really was less than ideal. After overseeing the squeezing of a proverbial quart (in this case, 550 cars) into a pint pot (in the form a rather restricted parking space), it seemed that the notion of extraction had not been considered. Escape was a somewhat tortured affair. Cars then proceeded to follow the tulip routes in opposite directions from whence they came.
Sunday is really the highlight of the Historique where cars, parked in front of the Marie, and the participants are welcomed by the mayor with fine words and a cheering glass of champagne. In batches, cars then take off on circuits around the town where it seems the entire population of northern France is out in force to cheer them on. Here the rather disorganised and informal approach pays dividends as participants are free to circuit as many times as they wish in order to brave the adulation of the very enthusiastic crowds. Sunday proceedings were brought to a close by the mayor, who thanked the participants and invited us all back next year.
There really is a wonderful atmosphere, which would be hard to replicate anywhere else. There was a smile on every face helped enormously, this year, by the glorious weather.
Should you go to next year’s Historique? It depends on what you want. I never met any participants who told me they hadn’t enjoyed themselves and wouldn’t go again next year. If you are looking for competitive rallying or blood and guts motor sport it’s not for you. If you love the notion of a slightly chaotic but fun-filled weekend where you party in roadside cafes, meet a crowd of likeminded people and hobnob with a local population who really seem to want you there with your old car and who clearly enjoy your presence, then you’ll have a great time. I have to admit there is something magical about an old car on French roads without hedges and the historic towns of la belle France.
Dinner a few feet from the cathedral. Tom far right back to camera, showing his tonsure. Left, Tom’s younest daughter Sabine and her boyfriend, Nearest right, my pal Richard Francis.
Facade of the magnificent Laon cathedral
Some of the participant’s cars packed into the Le Familistere courtyard. Getting out was quite a game. Our red XK is towards the middle of the picure
XK 150 getting a bit of fettling outside the hotel
