Palavas was, however, packed. There was a classic car show going on which was generating a lot of interest with people out after Easter lunch on a nice day. We managed to park the car - a feat in itself - and joined the throngs milling up and down the canal-side road to the beach. With not an espadrille in sight, we walked up the other main road and came across a shoe shop with some at 25€ each. We left those to the tourist pigeons with more money than sense and gave up the search.
Instead we headed for the car show, a lot of which was taking place outside in the carpark for free. First we came to the American classic car section with Cadillacs, Pontiacs, a Bonneville, Chevrolets, Fords and Buicks. They had been lovingly looked after and were a spectacular sight, especially the cabriolets. Just looking at them images of road trips would spring up and you could see yourself driving off into the sunset on a dusty Texan road towards cactus country. Some of the owners were dressed to go with their cars, with varying degrees of success...
As we walked around, a country and western band belted out suitable music to help us really appreciate the Americana, and a tacos stand stood by to help us get the American look (big).
From there we moved onto the army vehicles and I immediately wished the boys had been there as kids were climbing all over the tanks and armoured trucks firing the empty guns and having a great time. I'm afraid I didn't pay enough attention to the signs to know what sort of vehicles they were except that they seemed to be French.
Next up were the classic cars. When you're young, you consider classic cars as museum pieces. When you get older, they represent periods of your youth, and younger days.
There were some British cars such as the Triumph Herald, an MGB, a Ford Cortina from 1965, an Escort from the seventies, and a Mini. A terrific Mini Cooper 1300 customed into a beach buggy. Oh, I fell in love with it, how could you not? Green and yellow, open to the skies, a mean little engine, and total charm.It was for sale. I asked how much. How much would you think? A couple of thousand euros? A guy who was not its owner told us he believed the car was going for ten thousand euros! That's more than I paid for my Peugeot 406 Estate. With a regretful tear, I moved on, came back to take some photos, a last wistful look, restrained myself from dashing to the Presse to buy loto tickets... and said good-bye.
In the classic French car line-up there were Renault 4s, Citroen DS, Alpine Renaults, Deudeuches, and Peugeots. There were also some beautiful old Mercedes 190SL, Spiders, Simcas, and Volkswagons. When I was very young, we used to have a sticker on the car of the front of some car by a mountain or a tunnel (I forget which), and I had a thing about knowing what the backs of cars looked like once I'd seen the front. The picture was of a very old car though, and there were no more on the roads, so I searched in vain for years (yes, I'm a bit weird like that). Finally, yesterday, I saw the front of the car from the sticker. It was starting to drive off. Memories of my quest flooded into my head. I had to see what the back looked like! This may be my last chance!
I edged round a group of people who were standing inconveniently blocking my view, and got a good look at the boot, lights, bumper, back windscreen and wheels. It was an old Simca with vertical back lights in a line, a big boot that bent over the end, and a heavy line. You can't imagine the nostalgia I felt, the feeling taking me right back to my pre-teen years.
I said nothing - well, I didn't want to come across as some sort of lunatic on the look-out for the shape of the backs of cars. It doesn't go with being a modern, go-getting paper-pusher mother of two boys type, does it?
We finished our tour, my mind completely transported to various parts of the globe, the past, and wishful thinking. I do like cars. Always have!
