A MOST WONDERFUL WINTER RALLY
IN THE ALPS
by Charles Roy
The photograph was taken by our very dear
friend Albert near Zurich on 5 January 2004 while our
one of our suitcases was being forgotten. You are kindly
requested to proceed with the reading of the following
lines, should you wish to learn more about this incident
and the type of travels that we favour above all others.
Champagne, my 1950 Bentley MK VI
(chassis B90 JO), was acquired in 1999. In 2002 we brought
her to Europe in great style and comfort aboard the
Queen Elizabeth 2, and after a stint in Paris she now
resides in the quaint village of Dauborn, near Frankfurt.
Although we miss her, we are pleased that she congregates
amongst other members of the Bentley family in the garage
of our very good friends Marina and Peter. Champagne
benefits greatly from never having been restored. Yet,
she runs very well and her interior is immaculate with
just the right degree of patina to make her a delight.
She climbs happily in second gear even the steepest
of hills, thanks to her powerful 4¼-litre engine.
And with her dual heater and demister, she makes for
an ideal winter rally companion.
The 2004 Itinerary: On New Year's Day, a few
minutes after we arrived at the comfortable Kempinski
hotel located in a park outside of Frankfurt, I ran
to the garages to greet Champagne who had been delivered
there a few days earlier. There she stood, all clean
and ready to lead us for the next fourteen days through
Germany, Switzerland and France, thereby adding 1552
miles to her odometer. To prepare for such a trip, we
pored over road maps and guide books for hours in order
to find a happy balance between beautiful roads and
charming country hotels that provide all the needed
comfort including a garage, good food and, ideally,
a swimming pool for Nathalie. All of this orchestrated
and disciplined planning invariably translates into
the most romantic and seamless journey one could ever
envision.
Typical pre- and post-rally days
are governed by the limited daily ration of eight hours
of light that the sun projects over Europe in early
January. I wake up first (the slowest) at around 06:30,
followed by Nathalie (the merriest) and then Albert
(the wittiest). Once all dressed up and ready to go
after a proper breakfast, we manage to squeeze our mound
of suitcases in Champagne and diligently proceed at
around 08:30 to our next destination 220-300 km away.
Invariably, we motor on lovely secondary roads punctuated
by various scenic stops, inclusive of the visit of a
museum or a place of religious significance and a glorious
meal at a cosy establishment recommended by our friend
Bibendum. Hotel arrival is scheduled at around 16:00,
so that we have ample time to unpack, change and have
dinner, all of which is sometimes made somewhat blurry
the next day by the generous quantity of cocktails and
wine we feel compelled to order to celebrate life and
our happiness!
The Case of the Missing Suitcase:
In Gstaad, while dressing for dinner, we suddenly realised
that the black suitcase containing my shoes and other
various essentials had been left in the lobby of the
hotel of the night before located near Zurich, on top
of a most elevated mountain. My heart sank; yet we had
to find a solution. We all agreed that returning with
Champagne to get this case 230 km away was out of the
question. We also agreed with Albert that the case should
be delivered. He proposed FedEx, whereas Nathalie and
I proposed Albert and me. Being of a democratic disposition,
we let the majority vote decide the issue! Hence, after
a most wonderful dinner and a rather short sleep, we
woke up at 05:00 to allow Albert drive like Tazio Nuvolari
for 2 hours and 57 minutes through darkness and icy
roads to retrieve the missing suitcase. The return trip
took 2 hours and 42 minutes, exclusive of a pit stop
for refreshments for both the car and its occupants
at a marvelous roadside Mövenpick restaurant. The
rented little Ford KA must have been so relieved to
return to the starting point in one piece, and so were
we! A few minutes before our arrival back at the hotel,
I had telephoned Nathalie requesting her to go to the
dining room and order food and beer for the victorious
motorists. Naturally, by the time we arrived at the
hotel, everybody knew about our tribulations, and we
were greeted with a smile that obviously meant, "Here
are the idiots!" After a jolly lunch, Albert paid
the hotel bill, and we left happy. A few seconds later,
the beautiful receptionist came running toward us saying,
"Monsieur, Monsieur vous avez oublié votre
carte de credit !" We simply cracked up!
Excitement at the Border: With
the advent of the European Union most border crossings
are now uneventful and, as such, devoid of any romanticism.
However, the Swiss-French border is still monitored
with some scrutiny. Our attempt to enter France at the
charming and sparsely used border house of the Col de
la Forclaz was met with great resistance. An aged Bentley
bearing French plates, stationed in Germany, carrying
a mountain of luggage and three Canadian passports holders,
two of them living in the United States, married, but
without the same family name was simply too much! The
interrogation and search by three officials of our persons,
suitcases, and Champagne took over one hour. The rear
seat of Champagne was removed, and the fingerprints
on our suitcases were checked for explosives. None were
found. Eventually, Nathalie had the feeling that everything
would end well when an officer located her leather flower
in her suitcase and put it on him asking how such a
lovely piece should be worn! Needless to say that we
were quite relieved to be finally and formally be given
back our papers and granted access to the territory
of France.
Typical rally days start by my
waking up at 06:30 (pilot, and still the slowest), followed
by Albert (co-pilot, and always the wittiest) and ends
at around 23:00. In the meantime, there is much merriment.
First, there are the lovely people (more or less the
same every year) and the pre-war cars (more or less
the same every year). Second, there are the numerous
and imposing passes to conquer. Third, there are the
frequent stops for food and wine, wine and food, wine
and wine, etc. Although the dates (i.e., early January)
and the location (i.e., the French Alps) of the rally
were as the previous years, the organization team had
changed, and so had the name of the rally from Neige
et Glace to Hivernale Historique. This year we were
back at the comfortable hotel Le Manoir in Aix-les Bains,
and from there we departed every morning in the pursuit
of happiness. Meanwhile, Nathalie was being pampered
in Megève, enjoying herself immensely and awaiting
my return so that on our way back to Germany we may
exchange stories and say, "Que c'est beau notre
vie !"
©VEA
