MOTORING
The Monte Carlo Rally Next Tuesday week begins a motoring event that is unlike any other held in the world, the annual drive of some 2,300 miles by a large number of pleasantly insane motorists to Monte Carlo from eight different points of Europe. It is unique because, so far as one can judge, it brings hardly anybody any concrete profit, and because the regular competitors who enter for it year after year invariably take oath, on arrival at Monte Carlo, that nothing will induce them ever to do it again. It is a very expensive business, the risks of failure on any of the routes chosen are immense, the chances of getting through with a clean score-card incalculable. The competitors themselves endure such discomfort as was undreamt of even thirty years ago, and their sorrows are not mitigated by the excellent chance they have of finishing their courageous attempts in a disastrous smash following upon ice-skidding, fog or snow.
A True. Sporting Affair Yet the idiotic affair continues to draw its hundred-odd entrants, year after year, and during the run the heart of the motoring world, at least in Europe, goes out in sympathy to the suffering ecstatics doggedly driving across a continent in Arctic conditions. The hoped-for reward for the great majority is the mere fact of arrival, and for that reason the rally is one of the few really sportsmanlike events left to us. They do it because they like attempting the apparently impossible. They would all like to win a prize or a cup, but the drive itself is usually all they look forward to. They have to be in the pink of physical condition, very skilful drivers experienced in all manner of catastrophe, young of heart, gay of spirit. They do it for the love of the game, and as long as it is run like that, everybody will want to see the Monte Carlo rally go on.
The Eight Routes The Spanish and Portuguese starting-points and Gibraltar have been cut out by the war, the remaining eight being Athens, the terror which has only been finished three times, Palermo, Umea in Sweden, Amsterdam, Bucarest, John o' Groats, second in difficulty this year and second favourite, Tallinn in Estonia and Stavanger in Norway. All routes pass over the Col de la Croix Haute near Grenoble, where an average speed of 31 miles an hour must be maintained. Many cars will have to face this in the dark, and as it is extremely difficult to average this speed on a summer's day the stage is likely to prove calamitous. So far there are 143 entrants, from over twehie countries, 36 of whom are British. The last include Mrs. Amy Mollison. There are eight or more ladies' teams competing. A mad and brave and merry business that cheers the heart in these ugly anxious days.
The 1 2-h.p. Wolseley I had the new 4-cylinder 12-h.p. Wolseley out over my particular test route last week and was considerably impressed with its claims to be that impalpability the Family Car. I don't know what sort of a car a family wants, or why it should be specially catered for, but it struck me that this Wolseley would do the work required by those who are, in the pathetic words of the servant-seeking advertisement, five in family, no chauffeur kept. In "the first place it has the biggest saloon body I have .ever seen on a car with an engine of only 1,5oo c.c. or a nominal rz-h.p. There is room for two outsize people in the front seats (the space-wasting buckets, I am sorry to say) and for three medium-to-slim, or two more outsize, in the back. That is sufficiently rare today to deserve special mention. The seats are comfortable, though the back one might with advantage be a little deeper, the upholstery generous, and the finish very creditable at the price. As in all Wolseleys the driver has a view of the road which is as nearly unbroken as it can well be, through a high and wide _ screen.
A Sensible Car Then it is pleasantly equipped with such things as adjustable steering-column length (an absolute essential for five in family, some of whom must be of different statures), " phased " suspension, which is apparently a word meaning well-balanced, a workmanlike dashboard with all the wanted gadgets neatly disposed, and a good-sized luggage-compart- ment. A well-designed, sensible car. It has quite enough speed ; sixty on top and forty on third are comfortably reached; it runs quietly and smoothly, climbs well, and picks up briskly. The foot-brake is very good indeed, the side- brake only fit for parking, the steering light and sensitive. The gear-box has a slick synchromesh change, and third speed makes hardly any noise at all. It is a sturdily-built car, cheap at £245 and £256.
Bradwell Quay A rarely fortunate chance took me the other day to Bradwell- Juxta-Mare and its neighbour Bradwell ..Quay, an obscure corner on the Essex coast which I can warmly recommend tathe traffic-sick Londoner. I was driving back to town from Colchester and by a quite incredible oversight I missed the familiar way out upon the Chelmsford road and bore far to the left along a minor way that led me first to Layer de la Haye and then to Tolleshunt d'Arcy, two names, by s the way, that would be hard to beat even in East Anglia where many beautiful names are to be found. (Do you know Greenleaves and Larks-in-the-Wood and-Emperors' Green ?) Then came Maldon, that odd little port that seems to live always in dreams of a glorious past—though I do not suppose it ever to have been specially glittering in view of the modest and tortuous approach to it—on the upper reaches of the Blackwater, and as there was by then no point in trying to rejoin the Chelmsford 'road I turned to the left and by Latchington and a byway full of acute angles arrived to my immense satisfaction at Bradwell Quay. - It is little more than that, a foreshore, suitably decorated with the tarry bottoms of upturned boats, a pub: and a view up and down the estuary. The last makes Bradwell Quay, for on a clear day you have a singularly lovely picture before you of peace, the tide creeping up past wooded shores, a couple of agreeable islands, little ships moored in the channels, sails picked out against the grey blur where sea and sky meet. The best way there from London is by Romford, Brentwood, Billericay, Wickford, and, if you like small yachts at anchor, Burnham-on-Crouch. JOHN PRIOLEAU.
[Note.—Readers' requests for advice from our Motoring Correspondent on the choice of new cars should be accompanied by a stamped and addressed envelope. The highest price payable must be given, as well as the type of body required. No advice can be given on the purchase, sale or exchange of used cars.j
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