The Art of Living Lagarde

"It is not a car, it's the art of living" said the sticker in the back window of the 2CV, but I had eyes elsewhere.

I used to dream of owning a Renault 8 Gordini back when Renault Gordinis were new, and had I had the means and been old enough to drive I may well have.

I think the owner of the one I saw today understood the tear in the corner of my eye as I attempted to tell him that of all the few dozen classic cars that gathered around our port this morning, his was my  favourite.  Or maybe he didn't understand a thing I was saying.  I can't be sure either way, but he seemed attentive enough.

There were plenty of others though, some German sports cars, one from England, Renaults, Peugeots (a beautiful 203 Cabriolet), Citroens including a fleet of Tractions-Avant and even an SM, at one time the fastest production car in the world, but none of them could match the mid 60's Cooper-S-beating Gordini in my eye.  Wandering around a collection of vehicles from one's youth tends to trigger all sorts of nostalgic memories which is perhaps why the photo above is not a Gordini, but could have been taken in our neighbour's back yard in West End in the seventies.

I spent part of a delightful morning buried in those memories, poking at them, the memories and the cars that triggered them, nodding and grunting approvingly to their owners, and then just as suddenly as they arrived, someone gave an invisible signal, the engines spluttered into life and the cars were gone, leaving me once again with only the memories.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, a girl on a mission, left alone and unwilling to be distracted, and finding little romance in things mechanical for that matter,  had single handedly brought the lack of tidiness inside the boat under control.

I suppose in a day or two while she rests on her well deserved laurels, I too shall have to sort out my bits necessary to get our season underway.

It's not the boat, it's the art of living.