The Aesthete's glad refrain

The Aesthete's Fleet

What is there to be glad about,  I hear you ask? I got off the sofa to watch the Otago Sports Car Club's annual hill climb event on Three Mile Hill. Everyone is there, from callow youth in white Corona to grizzled veteran in hand built rally car. There appeared to be no rules and the Aesthete enjoyed seeing agile spectators jumping behind trees when drivers appeared to require more road than was available. The smell of burnt pistons hung in the air and a grumpy resident threatened to let a flock of sheep loose in the Octagon for having his sabbath day disturbed. Ah, Dunedin...

1970 Alfa Romeo GT Junior. Alright pedants, I know there was one of these on the list last week but I cannot help when people decide to quit their Alfas and so I exhort you once again to forget all other pretenders and buy one. This is more the genuine article than the giallo fly example and sports standard narrow wheels complete with hub caps - the mark of a serious Alfa owner.

For: I would be repeating myself.
Against: Oh, please...
Investment potential: 4/10 and climbing.

1964 Morris Oxford Traveller. I maintain that you do not need to go fast in a station wagon because they are for packing dismantled motor cycles into rather than cornering on two wheels. The longer cabin actually improves the looks of the narrow Oxford hull and you can fix the motor with a hammer and forge if anything breaks.

For: From the days when people simply did not do it unless they were married.
Against: People will tell you they did their courting in one just like that. Yuck.
Investment potential: 2/10 unless people start aging in reverse like Benjamin Button.

1936 Riley Kestrel. It vanished for a while and then returned so I will take the opportunity to tell you why you should buy this vintage Riley. Fitted with the rakish six-light saloon body and Wilson preselect gearbox it will take you back to an era when chaps had narrow scrapes and names like Vivian. It all looks like jolly good fun to me.

For: A real sports saloon for a modest outlay.
Against: Forget popping in to Super Cheap Auto unless it is for oil.

1967 Citroen ID 19. The great Osbert Lancaster wrote that a taste for luxury once acquired, like morphine is hard to keep within limits. I am told by Wonderboy and his circle of Citroenophiles that it this ID is a peach with the original madcap French interior in two tone blue and white a delight to the eye. It pays to buy the best with these cars and then, as Edith Piaf would have said, you will regret nothing.

For: Nonpareil.
Against: I have seen many innocent young lives ruined by Citroens.
Investment potential: 2/10. The wheel is on the wrong side but then nothing else is where you would expect it to be.

1947 Packard Clipper Six. By the Aesthete's measure anyway, the best looking product of post-war America except Veronica Lake. Elegant in every detail and the equivalent to a Bentley Continental, the Clipper was a promise of great things unfulfilled with the company losing its way in the 1950s. This one needs taking in hand but I tell you the rewards are considerable.

For: That patrician nose makes all other leering Yanks seem vulgar.
Against: Not exactly nimble on its toes.
Investment potential: 2/10. A diminishing band of loyal admirers who need their names written into their clothes.

Awaiting your instructions for transportation...

...is this fine looking 1963 Chevrolet Corvair, the last time the mainstream US car industry attempted anything truly different. They soon learnt their grim lesson when drivers began exploring the tail heavy handling of the Corvair in combination with turbo lag. If you want to know what driving a pre-war Auto Union racer may have been like, may I introduce you to the Corvair Monza Spyder.

For: An unusual combination of looks and menace.
Against: Ralph Nader wrote that book for a reason you know.
Investment potential: 4/10. American compacts will have their day, I am sure. Even the dangerous ones.