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Classic Van & Pick-up Magazine Vol.14 No.6 AUSTIN RESCUE Vorige editie

English
8 Beoordelingen   •  English   •   Aviation & Transport (Automotive)
IF you were given the choice of being anywhere
in the world, what would you go for? What would
give you the ultimate pleasure? A couple of
weeks in the Bahamas, maybe? Or a weekend at
a highly-exclusive, luxury hotel with a banquet
thrown in (not literally, I’m not that much of
a savage)? Or a trip to Harrods with an open
cheque book? Hmm. Now it’s my turn, go
on, ask me. What ranks as one of my all-time
favourite activities? The answer is autojumbles. I
absolutely love them and genuinely and honestly
cannot think of a better way to spend a day.
Exactly why I enjoy them so much isn’t a clear-cut
matter. It’s a combination of factors – the giant hot dogs
and tepid tea are, to me, culinary treasures. The fact
that I’m in the open air means I don’t have to worry
about table manners or where the tomato sauce ends
up (I am slightly worried about giving the impression
that I am totally uncouth – but I also prefer to tell the
truth). The stalls are like little treasure troves, to me. I
generally avoid the stuff being sold by traders because if
I wanted to buy new products, I’d go to a shop. Instead,
it’s the piles of nuts, bolts and bits that do it for me.
They hold this
inexplicablyweird
fascination.
It isn’t just
car jumbles that
attract me, I also derive incredible pleasure from those
organized for bikers. I don’t have a bike at the moment,
but I still had to attend an autojumble one weekend
because, well, it was on and I was available.
I should have said “didn’t have a bike” because I
bought one. It’s only a tiddler, which suits me because
I’m getting a bit crotchety and heaving around big
Triumphs etc just ain’t my game any more. But it’s
British, all there and in need of little more than
cosmetics. Which means I can now spend a bit of time
in another of my favourite places – my shed.
I am a fully paid-up member of the Geeks and
Anoraks Society and not only couldn’t give a stuff, but
am almightily proud of it. Sometimes, it’s great being a
greasy old geezer.
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Classic Van & Pick-up

Vol.14 No.6 AUSTIN RESCUE IF you were given the choice of being anywhere in the world, what would you go for? What would give you the ultimate pleasure? A couple of weeks in the Bahamas, maybe? Or a weekend at a highly-exclusive, luxury hotel with a banquet thrown in (not literally, I’m not that much of a savage)? Or a trip to Harrods with an open cheque book? Hmm. Now it’s my turn, go on, ask me. What ranks as one of my all-time favourite activities? The answer is autojumbles. I absolutely love them and genuinely and honestly cannot think of a better way to spend a day. Exactly why I enjoy them so much isn’t a clear-cut matter. It’s a combination of factors – the giant hot dogs and tepid tea are, to me, culinary treasures. The fact that I’m in the open air means I don’t have to worry about table manners or where the tomato sauce ends up (I am slightly worried about giving the impression that I am totally uncouth – but I also prefer to tell the truth). The stalls are like little treasure troves, to me. I generally avoid the stuff being sold by traders because if I wanted to buy new products, I’d go to a shop. Instead, it’s the piles of nuts, bolts and bits that do it for me. They hold this inexplicablyweird fascination. It isn’t just car jumbles that attract me, I also derive incredible pleasure from those organized for bikers. I don’t have a bike at the moment, but I still had to attend an autojumble one weekend because, well, it was on and I was available. I should have said “didn’t have a bike” because I bought one. It’s only a tiddler, which suits me because I’m getting a bit crotchety and heaving around big Triumphs etc just ain’t my game any more. But it’s British, all there and in need of little more than cosmetics. Which means I can now spend a bit of time in another of my favourite places – my shed. I am a fully paid-up member of the Geeks and Anoraks Society and not only couldn’t give a stuff, but am almightily proud of it. Sometimes, it’s great being a greasy old geezer.


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Classic Van & Pick-up  |  Vol.14 No.6 AUSTIN RESCUE  


IF you were given the choice of being anywhere
in the world, what would you go for? What would
give you the ultimate pleasure? A couple of
weeks in the Bahamas, maybe? Or a weekend at
a highly-exclusive, luxury hotel with a banquet
thrown in (not literally, I’m not that much of
a savage)? Or a trip to Harrods with an open
cheque book? Hmm. Now it’s my turn, go
on, ask me. What ranks as one of my all-time
favourite activities? The answer is autojumbles. I
absolutely love them and genuinely and honestly
cannot think of a better way to spend a day.
Exactly why I enjoy them so much isn’t a clear-cut
matter. It’s a combination of factors – the giant hot dogs
and tepid tea are, to me, culinary treasures. The fact
that I’m in the open air means I don’t have to worry
about table manners or where the tomato sauce ends
up (I am slightly worried about giving the impression
that I am totally uncouth – but I also prefer to tell the
truth). The stalls are like little treasure troves, to me. I
generally avoid the stuff being sold by traders because if
I wanted to buy new products, I’d go to a shop. Instead,
it’s the piles of nuts, bolts and bits that do it for me.
They hold this
inexplicablyweird
fascination.
It isn’t just
car jumbles that
attract me, I also derive incredible pleasure from those
organized for bikers. I don’t have a bike at the moment,
but I still had to attend an autojumble one weekend
because, well, it was on and I was available.
I should have said “didn’t have a bike” because I
bought one. It’s only a tiddler, which suits me because
I’m getting a bit crotchety and heaving around big
Triumphs etc just ain’t my game any more. But it’s
British, all there and in need of little more than
cosmetics. Which means I can now spend a bit of time
in another of my favourite places – my shed.
I am a fully paid-up member of the Geeks and
Anoraks Society and not only couldn’t give a stuff, but
am almightily proud of it. Sometimes, it’s great being a
greasy old geezer.
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