| The View | |
| I think that I saw a little bit of everything from that wonderful back seat. |
Leaving London |
| The best views, of course, were of the other veteran cars in the run. Some pulled up behind us at lights. Some we passed; some passed us. At times, we would be in the midst of a pack of veterans; at other times, we would be the lone pre-1905 car on the road. | |
| The scenery shifted from classic London postcard views… to parts of the city decidedly less glamorous… to quaint suburbs and towns… to gently rolling hills with grazing sheep… to Brighton itself, an old-school seaside resort with a distinctive ambience. | |
| We saw a little rain… a little sun… and a few ominous black clouds. |
A typical view from the back seat. |
| I saw a woman in the third-story window of a brick building, chin in hand, watching but registering no reaction whatever. | |
| I saw two resourceful young girls who had set up their own viewing post atop a tiny mid-road traffic island. They grinned at each other ceaselessly, pleased by their own ingenuity more so than the gleaming brass of the cars that passed by. | |
| I saw car clubs hosting their own meetings along the route. I saw a gathering of Morris Minors, groups of sports cars from the 1940's, a flawless XKE, and a brilliant green Bentley parked in a driveway, its driver, in goggles, waving to the cars that drove by. | |
| I saw many dogs (who appeared interested) and sheep (who did not). I saw spectators with old klaxon horns which were honked loudly as the cars passed by. (The companions of the chronic honkers - surely deaf by the time we passed them - seemed to take all this in stride). |
My view of the London-to-Brighton. |
| I saw thousands of hands in the air -- nearly everyone en route waved. We waved back. Others applauded as the cars chugged past… which was quite moving. And if those who clapped had the power to make one a bit misty, what to make of the older gentlemen by the side of the road who tipped their hats… or even saluted? | |
| I was not in a position to see Bill's face often during the run, but I'm pretty sure that there were moments when he wasn't smiling. | |
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