As I sit at my laptop trying – and largely failing – to get this column written, the annual Retromobile Show is in full swing. I know this because every time my fingers hover expectantly over the keyboard, instead of typing some pearls of wisdom for the urgent perusal of evo’s saintly managing editor, Ian Eveleigh, instead I end up disappearing into an internet rabbit warren brimming with classic car awesomeness.
You see, Retromobile is an orgy of extraordinary classics and modern classics of all shapes, sizes and denominations. Understandably, it’s also a magnet for the world’s most prestigious car dealers and troops of well-heeled (and often red-trousered) car collectors. Frustratingly, it’s one of the few proper auto events I’ve never attended. Which is odd, as from what I’ve read and seen on assorted websites, magazine articles and social media feeds it has obvious parallels with many of the