The Gerrards Cross Classic Car Show

— Cravats, Cake, and a Steam Car Surprise

Read down the page for why this pic is here!

August 19

Yes indeed, today marks the 18th Gerrards Cross Classic Car Show—an event where everything is done prim and proper, old chap. I’ve got my cravat, my hamper, and my silver cutlery at the ready. Gerrards Cross, after all, is quite the well‑to‑do area, and this mid‑week gathering can easily attract a hundred high‑end classics if the weather behaves.

It wasn’t looking promising at first. The heatwave seemed ready to bow out, typical timing, but then the sun burst through and, as usual, I’d forgotten the sun cream.

The Gerrards Cross and Chalfont St Peter Rotary Club runs the show. Tickets go fast, places are limited, and fifteen of your finest pounds gets you a spot on the green at the Memorial Centre. Every penny raised goes to excellent causes: guide dogs for the blind, medical aid for Ukraine, local support for the elderly, and more.

My chums and I are all attending, though I’m not convinced they’ll be in brown brogues and tweed. Gates open a couple of hours before the patrons are permitted, and the tone is set immediately.

Arrival: The First Test

“Good morning, sir. Do you have your confirmation and entry number, please?”

“Yeah mate, I got it ’ere somewhere, gezza!”

Damn. Failed the first test. For a moment I thought I saw the gate closing again.

“Er—yes, here it is, my friend. And here’s another ten pounds for the charities.”

“Oh, thank you. Terribly kind of you, sir.”

“Number 88, Derick.”

“Oh, two fat ladies—Bingo!”

“Sorry, sir?”

What am I doing? “Don’t mind me, sir.”

Derick locates my details and ticks me off with his quill. The gate opens. I nod to the frail retired gentleman at the entrance and roll in.

Plenty of time to park neatly and give the Rover a once‑over. Quick dash to the bog—excuse me, the washrooms and lavatory.

Tea, Cake, and the Raffle Trap

Inside, there are cups of tea, homemade cakes, and the obligatory book stall—smelling like a long‑forgotten library. Pages once white now the colour of nicotine‑stained fingers, all priced higher than when they were printed.

“Helllooo, may I have a cup of tea and a slice of this wonderful lemon drizzle cake, please?”

“Milk and sugar, sir?”

“Just milk, thank you kindly.”

“Can I interest you in some raffle tickets? One pound a strip. All proceeds go to charity.”

“Well, in that case, I’d better take a few.”

“Five lines, sir?”

“Oh—er—well… alright then.”

“That’ll be three for tea, four for the lemon drizzle, and five for the raffle. Twelve pounds, sir. Thank you.”

I wasn’t going to be lucky today. Entry purchased months ago, ten pounds added for goodwill, twelve spent on tea, cake, and raffle tickets, and the show hadn’t even opened.

The Rascals Assemble

On previous occasions I’ve dressed the Rover as a wedding car—flowers, ribbons, champagne, confetti. It goes down well, draws plenty of enquiries, but I always tell them it’s just for show.

The Jolly Old Ruislip Rascals line up side by side:

• Robert (“Wingnut”) in the Pontiac

• Colin in the Edsel

• Stuart in his 1969 Alfa

• Andy in his stunning Ford 1600E Cortina

• Kevin in the Buick
  

And yes, all wearing cravats.

We erect the dome tent in double‑quick time, some relief from the sun at last.

The Rover P5 has a hidden tool tray in the dashboard that doubles as a neat retractable table, perfect for cups and spectacles. The P5B is full of clever comforts: rear reading lights under the ET‑shaped headrests, adjustable rear heating, centre table, sliding tray, glass holders, front and rear quarter‑lights, and a pull‑and‑twist vent that cools your tootsies. Even the small round dashboard vents give a surprisingly good jet of air—when you’re moving.

The green is filling nicely — when a steam car arrives.

By midday the green is full, and it’s time for my first meander. Best to get photos before the public obscures the cars. I chat with a few owners—just to sharpen my tone, squire.

My timing couldn’t have been better. Through the gate comes a 1904 Stanley steam car, and at the steering rod sits Andy Green and his wife.

Yes—that Andy Green.

He and the JCB team have just broken the land speed record for a hydrogen‑powered car on the Bonneville Salt Flats, reaching 406.320 mph. You must see the footage; it’s widely available.

Andy and his wife were in demand all afternoon, so after a brief chat I made room for the next admirer. Congratulations to Andy and JCB on their remarkable achievement.

What a gent. What a privilege to meet such a brave individual. I’m delighted he slowed things down today and brought his steam car along.

 (I really must stop mixing with these 7ft giants.)

Among Friends and Rarities

A few ex‑work colleagues join me, and we stroll among the cars, picking favourites. One stands out: a deep blue, glossy 2008 Wiesmann MF4 GT Coupe.

Its Gecko badge sits proudly on the bonnet—and crawls inside too, stitched into the leather seats and dash. The interior is a masterpiece, full of detail and more dials than an aircraft cockpit. Powered by a 4.8‑litre naturally aspirated V8 producing 367 bhp, it absolutely flies.

Wiesmann built these hand-crafted machines from 1988 through to 2013, turning out somewhere around 180 cars a year, a few thousand in total across the company's lifetime, but a drop in the ocean next to any mainstream manufacturer, which makes this example rare indeed.

The company went under in 2013, but a London‑based investor by the name of Roheen Berry rescued it a couple of years later, so if we get lucky, we might see a few Geckos in the English countryside sometime in the future!

A Show for All Ages

The Gerrards Cross show was a great success, displaying around 120 cars: Rolls‑Royce, Jaguar, Morgan, Lotus, Ferrari, and more. A show enjoyed by all ages—many hoping one day to show their own piece of history and nostalgia.

Congratulations to the Rotary GX and Chalfont St Peter for another wonderful day.

We’ve a few more shows in the calendar this year. The Rascals and I hope to attend—weather permitting.

Now we’re off for a well‑deserved pint nearer home.

Thanks for reading. Philip (The Rascal) Editor

  A Bunch of Rascals: (Left to right) Kevin, 'Wingnut'. Yours truly, and Colin