After her fling with a Brooklands 280 Capri, Charlotte Vowden contemplates the idea that cheating on her beloved classic could become a habit…
The affair was short, but intense. I felt intoxicated from the moment it began. At first, we made efforts to find places to be together undetected; taking trips into the countryside away from unwanted attention and prying eyes. Out there we were free to pretend that this was our normal; carelessly we travelled the open roads. Our relationship formed a natural momentum, it was a connection I didn’t expect. This betrayal wasn’t a chance encounter, I’d planned it, but hadn’t anticipated quite how good it was going to feel.
With the keys to a Capri in my possession, I’d unlocked the potential for a totally different life. Younger, faster and good looking in a way that draws little comparison to my MGA, the 1987 model was a terribly predictable, peppier choice. Lowering myself into the Recaro driver’s seat, I’d feel like a woman transformed. Offering five speeds to my A’s four, as well as a much heftier V6 160bhp engine, the Capri 280 Brooklands permitted a racier ride.
The team who take care of Ford’s Heritage Fleet were responsible for our introduction. At first glance, the attraction was locked-in. Her broad haunches, power-bulged bonnet and bring-it-on demeanour were thoroughly enhanced by her fulsome burble. “She’s yours,” they said, “if you’d like her.” A temptation I couldn’t refuse. Our time together would not be unlimited, this was a dalliance, a liaison that wouldn’t last. The expiry date made it even more delicious. We didn’t have a moment to waste.
Studying her, literally and figuratively, I discovered the 280s pedigree was suitably impressive. As the last Capri to be produced by Ford in the late eighties, she was born in December ’86. She is the car that represents the end of an era. A MkIII and one of only 1,038 built, she was designed to mark the passing of the iconic model in style. Her deep Brooklands green bodywork was perfection, and her red and white coach lines only encouraged a lingering glance. Taking her in from twin headlamps to tail, she was certainly an object to desire.
Over the course of two weeks we journeyed hundreds of miles. It was the longest time I’d ever spent in the company of another classic car. Boldly, I even introduced her to my husband, and the three of us enjoyed a cheeky weekend away. Sharing the guilt, (pfff, what guilt?), made our affair seem even more thrilling. I miss the feel of that chunky three-spoke wheel in my hands.
With the weight of my foot on the throttle, the rear-wheel-drive Capri would pull languidly, almost teasingly, away. Once warmed up, her characteristics became far more combustible. The clutch heavy, her rear a little jittery and the steering eagerly communicative, I languished the opportunity to take an active role. It was such fun to take her out for a spin and play. A fully-engaged experience, that aspect was not dis-similar to driving my MGA.
An act of self-indulgence, but also empowerment, spending time with another classic made me feel more capable and confident behind the wheel. “Each car has its own personality,” theorizes Gracie Haddon, a kindred spirit who shares a sympathetic view. A non-exclusive approach to spending time with classics is enlightening, and enhances your ability to adapt. “No two cars drive the same, so learning how to navigate them enhances your skills” she adds.
Gracie’s first flirtation was with a “beautiful” late sixties S-Type Jaguar. “Not a bad introduction to classic and historic motoring,” she lightheartedly reflects. It’s a fond reminiscence for sure. The pale elegance of the Jags cream exterior, she tells me, was further enhanced by its sumptuous scarlet and timber interior. Such a combination is designed only to seduce. Their encounter was made possible by the charity Gracie works for; it’s called StarterMotor and is dedicated to inspiring the next generation to find careers in the classic and historic vehicle sector.
A former member of the organisation’s fleet, which is exclusively available for ambassadors to take to events, the S-Type certainly serves to prove a point. “You see the spark in their eyes,” says Gracie, the charity’s Marketing and Events Specialist, “and the excitement, when someone gets behind the wheel of a historic car for the first time. It’s incredibly special.”
Working her way through the collection – from a pre-war Austin Seven and a Morgan +4 – Gracie has avoided automotive inertia. She believes this has only deepened her affection for bygone cars. And with that variety of experience, came clarity. Gracie has chosen a 1970 Austin Healey Sprite as her one.
After getting the best of each other’s company, parting ways with the Capri felt good. We’ve returned to our lives and moved on. Do I regret cheating on my MGA? No, unequivocally not. The A gives me everything I look for in a classic, but I don’t plan to be faithful until death do us part. Why limit yourself to experiencing a just one kind of automotive love?
If you could choose a classic to have a dalliance with, what would it be? Let us know below.
