This blog will expand on themes and topics first mentioned in my book, "The Automobile and American Life." I hope to comment on recent developments in the automobile industry, reviews of my readings on the history of the automobile, drafts of my new work, contributions from friends, descriptions of the museums and car shows I attend and anything else relevant. Copyright 2009-2020, by the author.
Hi Folks -- my first try as editor. The articles in this issue are fabulous! If you are not a member, join now to get this issue. Go to Autohistory.org
Automotive History Review (ISSN 1056-2729) is a periodic publication of the Society of Automotive Historians, Inc.
I picked this cover up on Ebay the other day from a dealer in Portugal. Only $10 but also not the best in shape with discoloration around the stamps and also some small tears.
I was very curious about this item, because the date was September 3, 1939, 2 days after the Germans invaded Poland, and yet there was a GP race after WW II had started! I had not heard anything about his event, and thought it was quite interesting. So I did some digging and hear is just the surface of what I found on Wikepdia. Since I have no Serbian language skills, I doubt I can go far with this thread. I did read somewhere else that after WWII Communist authors wanted to reinterpret the event in terms of class and elitism of the cold regime. That change of memory is really of interest to me.
Kafana "Srpska Kruna", starting point of a preliminary race
Section at the French Embassy -- A zPreliminary Race
The September 3 1939 Belgrade Grand Prix was held on the streets of Belgrade, the capital of Yugoslavia and was was won by Tazio Nuvolari. This race which took place at the Kalemegdan Park circuit saw 5 drivers take part - two Mercedes-Benz in their Silver Arrows, two Auto Unions, and a Bugatti.
The international race was planned as the main event within the scope of the celebration of the 16th birthday of the King of Yugoslavia, Peter II, which was on 6 September. It was organized by the Automobile Club of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia, while the patrons were the Queen mother, Maria and the Politikanewspapers.
The entire event comprised 8 separate races. First 7 included car races with lesser known drivers in the less powerful automobiles, motorcycle race and a race for motorcycles with a sidecar and a balancer. The most important race, Grand Prix, was saved for last.[2]
At the time, Belgrade had a population of 360,000 and the race attracted 100,000 spectators, so the organization of the event was challenging. At the request from the organizers which wanted as much audience as possible, the railway reduced ticket prices to Belgrade from other parts of Yugoslavia (Niš, Sarajevo, Ljubljana, Split) by 66%. On 26 August, the airplanes flew over larger cities in the entire kingdom (Belgrade, Novi Sad, Zagreb, Skopje, Niš, Sarajevo) throwing pamphlets with invitations for everyone to "use all the benefits and discounts and not to miss the greatest sports event". The post office issued a special series of 4 stamps marking the occasion. The Cvijeta Zuzorić Art Pavilion in Kalemegdan was temporarily adapted into the post office where visitors could buy a special envelopes and stamps, with also special postmarks.
Several grandstands were constructed, near the entrance into the Kalemegdan. Both were stretching downhill, in the direction of Maršala Pilsudskog to the north and Knez Mihailov Venac to the south. Along the almost entire track, 2.7 km (1.7 mi), rooms for the standing spectators were built. The tickets for seating were 10 times higher than those for standing. Due to the great popular interest, one additional grandstand was added. As it was hastily built, to convince the public that it was properly and quality constructed, the organizers summoned 600 soldiers who tested the grandstand.[2]
The contestants began to arrive in the late August 1939. The most popular were Hermann Lang and Manfred von Brauchitsch from Mercedes-Benz and Tazio Nuvolari and Hermann Paul Müller from Auto-Union. Though announced, Nuvolari didn't arrive. He was in Italy and the ban on leaving the country due to the international situation was introduced. German authorities intervened with its Italian counterparts, so Nuvolari arrived in Belgrade, being one day late. French and Hungarian teams also arrived, but the rivalry between the two German teams was the main attraction. The journalists besieged the Belgrade hotels ("Pariz", “Moskava”) where the drivers stayed. However, the greatest crowd was in front of the "Srpska Kralj" where the team members of Auto-Union were.[2] Starting on 25 August, a members of the German teams travelled in their cars for 1,400 km (870 mi) from Germany to Belgrade. The drivers from United Kingdom didn't arrive because of the safety concerns while, due to the ban on leaving Italy, Alfa Romeo and Maserati were also absent.
On 31 August the first test drive was held. During the second lap, a tire exploded on the car of the Serbian driver Lazar Radić. The explosion blocked the wheel and the car got off the track, hitting a tree and cutting it in half. The car was badly damaged, but none of the spectators were hurt, while Radić had only few scratches.[2]
During the second test drive, on 1 September 1939, Germany attacked Poland. After the news reached Belgrade, French and Hungarian drivers withdrew, while German teams continued as if nothing happened.
The crowd gathered from the early morning on 3 September. The guards and police officers removed people from the streets while special inspections were controlling the quality and the prices of the food and drink stands.[2] Pre-program included 4 car and 3 motorcycle races.
During the races, the news of United Kingdom and France declaring a war on Germany arrived. Alfred Neubauer, the manager of Mercedes-Benz Grand Prix team, came from the German embassy and told the drivers to relax and continue with the preparations for the race. However, showing his patriotism, von Brauchitsch left the venue and went to the airport to leave Belgrade. Lang notified Neubauer, who got furious. He jumped into his car and driving frantically across the city, he arrived at the airport in Bežanija where von Brauchitsch was already boarding in the Lufthansa's plane. Neubauer talked von Brauchitsch to return to the race telling him, among other things: "If you wish war, you can wait for a few hours".
As French and Hungarian teams withdrew, only the two German teams, with their "silver cars" and four drivers, participated in the race. They were joined by the local Boško Milenović, in a blue Bugatti Type 51.
The race began at 16:45. The average speed was 136 km/h (85 mph). However, racing next to the Nebojša Tower, Nuvolari exceeded the speed of 200 km/h (120 mph). Especially attractive was the Knez Mihailova Street section. As it was the highest point of the track, running fast up the hill the cars would literally fly for almost 10 m (33 ft) over the spot and immediately continue going downhill. During the race, a rock bounced from below the von Brauchitsch's car, hitting the goggles of his teammate Lang, breaking them, so Lang retired from the race.[2]He was replaced withWalter Bäumerbut he soon went off the road into the grove of thepoplar treesnear the Nebojša Tower. Bäumer was unharmed. At the final bend (French embassy) in the 16th lap, von Brauchitsch lost control on the polished cobblestone, the car positioned crosswise and shut down. Seemingly out of nowhere, Nuvolari appeared barely missing von Brauchitsch's car. Due to the hot weather and the substrates of the streets which made the course, which was not suited for the races, almost all participants had tire problems.
Nuvolari won the race with 1:04:03, von Brauchitsch was 7.6 seconds behind him and the press described him as the "eternally second", Müller was third and 31.6 seconds late while Milenović finished fourth, albeit being 19 laps behind.
On 12 March 1895, 125 years ago, automotive manufacturer Benz & Cie. ─ in Mannheim ─ delivered the first bus with a combustion engine (an alternative drivetrain at the time) to Rheinische Gasmotoren Fabrik.
The vehicle was based on the Benz Landauer. This model was the largest car offered by Benz & Cie. and was based on the four-wheeled Benz models Victoria and Vis-à-Vis featuring a double-pivot steering system built from 1893 onwards. The bus had a total of eight seats. By comparison, the modern Mercedes-Benz CapaCity L articulated bus for popular routes in large cities can accommodate up to 191 passengers.
Benz combustion engine bus based on the Benz Landauer with eight seats, delivered on 12 March 1895 to Netphener Omnibus-Gesellschaft for scheduled regular service on the Siegen-Netphen-Deuz route. Colored drawing from the 1980s.
The first Benz combustion engine bus was used by Netphener Omnibus-Gesellschaft. The company ordered it from Benz & Cie. on 19 December 1894 and used the vehicle from 18 March 1895 on the Siegen-Netphen-Deuz route. On 29 March 1895, the company ordered a second bus, which Benz & Cie. delivered on 26 June 1895. Both buses were powered by a horizontal, single-cylinder engine in the rear with a standing flywheel and a displacement of 2.9 litres. The engine featured an automatic intake valve and controlled exhaust valve and was rated at 3.7 kW (5 hp). Cooling took the form of evaporative cooling, and a battery-powered high-voltage buzzer ignition was used for the ignition system.
A period description of the first bus with an internal combustion engine referenced a lattice roof for luggage, the “Siegen-Netphen-Deuz” lettering on the sides and numbered seats. The equipment configuration also included solid rubber spare tyres for the rear wheels and one front wheel. The second bus was similarly equipped but also has a signal bell. Other Benz combustion engine buses based on the Landauer were delivered to Vegesack (Schild & Cie.) and Nordenham (Johann Janssen). Additional customers came from Tyrol and Bitterfeld.
The premiere of the scheduled regular service of a bus with a combustion engine operated by Netphener Omnibus-Gesellschaft lasted only until the winter of 1895/96, at which point line service was stopped in part due to the high demands placed on vehicles by the slippery winter roads.
12 March 1895 nevertheless became a turning point in the history of passenger transport as it marked the start of a technical transformation in bus transport service, whereby people said goodbye to horse-drawn buses and steam-powered drives and hello to the combustion engine. Today, the bus industry is once again in the midst of a technical transformation ─ this time, however, electric power is the game changer.
On a chilly winter morning, the sleepy Oxfordshire village of Wardington is shaken awake by the rumble and thump of a vast container truck, edging its way past thick hedgerows and thatched cottages, turning awkwardly off the narrow high street and up a steep access track. A few minutes later another arrives. Then another, and another. The penultimate truck to make this sharp left turn carries a battered silver container with the unmistakable outline of a 911 painted on the side, beneath which read the words ‘Tuthill Porsche’.
For enthusiasts of classic Porsche motorsport, particularly anything with a rallying bent, the name Tuthill is part of the folklore. Having worked privately on both 356 and 911 in the late 1970s, its small but expert team went on to win a contract courtesy of Prodrive to prepare the bodyshells for Porsche’s works 911 SC RS rally cars. In the intervening years the company has grown in size, knowledge and reputation, becoming the undisputed experts in air-cooled 911s that take the road less travelled.
And that is why we’re here today. In these six containers, gradually being off-loaded into the still-frosty yard, sits the aftermath of the latest East African Safari Classic Rally, an event without parallel in modern motorsport, and one that Tuthill Porsche has just won for a remarkable fourth time.
These 12-metre containers have been in transit since before Christmas, and as the doors crack open, the extent of this achievement starts to reveal itself. They are piled high with spares, tyres, wheels and the detritus that comes in the wake of nine days of rallying across the unforgiving Africa bush. And then there are the cars, caked in red Kenyan dust, mud, flies and gaffer tape. Battered and broken, partially disassembled, their vivid liveries glinting out from the gloom.
The East African Safari Classic formed part of the World Rally Championship for 30 years but today is a standalone event, populated entirely by privateers, that pits cars built before 1986 against thousands of kilometres of Kenyan and Tanzanian wilderness. The vast distances covered, in extremes of heat and humidity, coupled with the sheer remoteness, make it a unique challenge for both drivers and crews, a physical and logistical nightmare. But one that Richard Tuthill and Co can’t stay away from.
We meet Richard by the first container, inspecting a precious cargo that hasn’t seen daylight in almost two months. Tuthill campaigned an incredible 10 cars in the 2019 Classic, eight of which are back here today, strapped down beside tea crates overflowing with the paraphernalia of their sub-Saharan marathon.
The cars Tuthill campaigns in Kenya are G-Series 911s, so getting on for half a century old. They run the 915 gearbox and period air-cooled flat-six, displacing a naturally aspirated 3.0-litres. These are genuine classics, cars the rest of us struggle to maintain as weekend runabouts. What is more, 10 cars means 30 technicians, three per car, alongside a support staff of team management, doctors, engineers and physios. Somewhere between 40 and 50 people in total, all on the road for 10 days straight, including a single rest day in the middle. The organisation of this many people is impressive enough, but the logistics of campaigning 10 classic performance cars in an off-road rally on another continent is truly mind-boggling.
“I look at it as 10 individual teams, centrally coordinated and managed,” Richard says. “We have one container per car that holds everything apart from wheels and tyres, so jacks, axle stand, jerry cans, gearboxes, whatever it is. Probably 100,000 Euros of spares per car.” There is also the so-called mothership, the branded container we saw earlier. It holds even more, so every night the mechanics go there and top up. “Say, three sets of brake pads and a front right strut. And that damaged strut gets rebuilt by a damper man overnight, so we’re constantly rebuilding everything in case we need it.”
“We have one container per car that holds everything apart from wheels and tyres, so jacks, axle stand, jerry cans, gearboxes, whatever it is. Probably 100,000 Euros of spares per car.”Richard Tuthill
Sometimes even this system can’t keep up with demand, however. “This year we had a big run on main control arms. By Day 4 we’d used 60 per cent of our allocation of front right TCAs because they were all hitting the same thing. So you ring home and ready people to fly out with X,Y or Z. One year we ran out of gearboxes and were rebuilding the ones we’d flown out on the rest day. So you do have to be on it.”
This is characteristic understatement from Richard, who, as CEO of Tuthill Porsche, effuses a calming energy about the place that proves invaluable on the Classic. But enough for rebuilding 915 gearboxes in the bush?
“It’s what we do,” he says simply. “In 2017 Stig Blomqvist had an engine problem. Now, no-one likes an engine problem, but that year we changed an engine and gearbox in 13 minutes, which also involved me driving six hours straight through the night to pick a new engine up.” Richard Tuthill got back at three or four in the morning and the old engine and gearbox were on the ground. “Stig pushed the car out of parc fermé, into a field, and 15 or 20 of us jumped on it. The second-place car then left parc fermé with Stig, who was leading the rally, still in this field with no engine and no gearbox. And the road section up to the first stage was something like 12 km. So cars two, three and four all drove past thinking ‘that’s the end of him’, and as they lined up for the beginning of the stage, Stig drove past them to take up his place as first car on the road. That’s what we love.”
After over 30 years at the coal face, there isn’t much about old 911s that fazes Richard and his team. And as he explains, it’s the perfect car for the job: “The engine’s in the right place, so you’ve got traction. With 3.0 litres you’ve also got torque. You’ve got independent suspension on all corners and a strong monocoque bodyshell. And it was brilliantly built in 1973. We’ve got five engines being built here today, all with original cranks, original cases, original heads. Even with the development projects we’re doing, if you ignore what Porsche did in any of their cars you make a huge mistake, because they were just right with everything.”
Looking at the state of some of the cars that have now rolled out into the chilly British morning, cars that all finished the rally, it’s clear that both original design and current expertise are playing their part. “There’s a misconception that the cars come back wrecked from Africa,” Richard continues. “They come back wrecked if you hit stuff. And no names mentioned, but some of our drivers hit everything there is to hit in Africa. But if you drive properly you can win the rally and your car’s like new.”
And it’s true that most of these cars won’t even have an engine rebuild before heading off on their next adventure. Further testament to Tuthill’s preparation and Porsche’s original design. Nevertheless, the work that goes into getting them over the line, and over the line first, is astonishing, especially when you consider that all the servicing in Kenya is going on in the evenings, in the pitch dark.
“We’re geared up for it,” Richard says. “We’ve got lights and everyone has head torches, but sometimes I just don’t know how the teams do it. The human aspect is the single biggest thing. They spend three to six weeks out there, and at the end of the rally I couldn’t be more impressed. Or grateful. They are extraordinary people and we have a brilliant team atmosphere.”
He pauses for a moment as we survey the cars, bloodied but unbowed, and the engineers begin pushing them back towards the workshops. “But it’s a good thing the rally is every two years, because if I asked them today if they wanted to go back to Kenya, it’d be a tough one to answer. You need at least six months to a year before you think it’s a good idea to go back.”
“The dealer specialised in German cars, particularly from Bavaria. He looked at me from head to toe and then deemed me to be uninteresting as a customer,” remembers Paul Higgins. “So I turned on my heels and walked across the road to ‘Clarks of Khyber Pass’, where there were some fine used cars. And it was there that I saw the 911 SC from 1980 in perfect condition. It was a left-hand-drive model and therefore not too expensive. At ‘Clarks’ they said to me: “Take the 911 with you over the weekend, drive it a bit and tell us on Monday what you think.” That was in 1985, I was just over 30 years old, an architect just starting out and already infatuated with Porsche. The simplicity of the design, the flowing contours, the perfect proportions and the lack of any superfluous, ornamental gimmicks. No matter from what angle, the 911 always looked perfect. And then there was the feeling of lightness when driving, the engine sound, the German engineering. So that was that: I brought the 911 home. My wife was heavily pregnant and not very impressed by the sports car. We already had two boys, and the birth of our third child was imminent. She was certain that it would be a boy again. That is probably why she said: “If it’s a girl, you can keep the Porsche.” Our first daughter was born a few days later at half past one in the morning. And at half past seven in the morning I was standing impatiently at ‘Clarks’. And that is how it started with Porsche.”
Paul Higgins’ quiet passion for Porsche remained alive over the decades, and he took the term sports cars literally. Paul competed in club races with the SC, and later changed it for a 3.3-litre Turbo. This car too had proved itself, such as in the city race through the streets of Wellington. Everything was going well, and then a connecting rod came through the engine block. In December 1988, the 911 Carrera RS 2.7 was added to the small collection, built in November 1972. The RS 2.7 in Grand Prix White now stands in a hall together with the Turbo. Paul drove a RSR 3.8 from 1997 to 1999 and won two national titles. Even today, he still hasn’t forgiven himself for selling this Porsche. There are Porsche race posters on the walls, at the gable end there is a huge photo of the Number 23 – 917 Short Tail, Le Mans winner in 1970.
On the left on the long wall there is a small desk with a PC, behind this a reference library on the subject of Porsche. The red Vespa belonging to a friend is parked opposite, the only greeting from Italy. In between, the 356 Carrera GS 1500 from 1957, found in Sweden, the 356 A Super Coupé from 1958, which came over from Australia, and the 356 B Roadster from California, dating from 1961. Currently absent: the Leyton March CG891 Formula 1 (on its way to Goodwood) and the 1950 Reutter Cabriolet from the Netherlands. Higgins discovered his passion for Porsche’s first sports car model series only late on: “I was always a 911 man and thought that the 356 was just an old car. Then the Porsche Club New Zealand 2005 issued an invitation to participate in a trip to the East Cape of the North Island. A friend lent me a black 356 Coupé from 1958 with whitewall tyres. A beautiful car. My wife and I set out on the five-hour journey from Auckland to Napier, and I was filled with enthusiasm about the 356 after only half the distance. The handling on these roads with their long, fast bends is really impressive! You can drive effortlessly and do not hold up modern traffic; in fact, you are probably a little faster. Having said that, I have to admit that the 356’s steering is slightly heavy when driving through tight bends.
But the comfort is fantastic for a car from the 50s. When I got back from this trip, one thing was clear: I had to have a 356. It had to be open. A Speedster? Too expensive. A Convertible D? I saw one in California, but could not make my mind up to buy it.” However, Paul then met John Willhoit, a renowned 356 restorer, on the West Coast. John had a 356 B Roadster T5 from the summer of 1961 in his collection. Higgins remembers: “I found the Roadster attractive, because with the screw-mounted windscreen, characteristic dashboard and less luxury it was closer to the Speedster than the Cabriolet. The Roadster was also inexpensive, because someone had repaired the wings and the wheel cutouts almost in the style of a pre-A 356 after an accident. I bought the car in 2006 and planned to rectify the cosmetic defects, but never got around to it. In 2009, someone drove into the back of me. And then it had to be done. The Roadster is now how it should be.”
I had hardly got the Signal-Red Roadster home when this 356 A 1500 GS Carrera from 1957 turned up again on the internet just before Christmas. Paul had discovered the Coupé months before, but had lost track of it in the meantime. The car was on the other side of the world in Sweden. The engine was not in the rear end, but was disassembled in a crate. The interior had been stripped and filled with stuff like wiring harnesses, window glass, electrical parts and brakes. “I contacted the owner through the President of the Porsche Club Sweden. At the time, he owned all the 356 Carrera cars that there were up there – three two-litre Carrera 2 models and this 1500. None of the cars was roadworthy. He wanted to make the 1.5-litre car into a replica of the Porsche that won the Midnight Sun rally in Sweden in 1955. The work had already begun.” The telephone call between Auckland and Sweden lasted 75 minutes, but Paul had convinced Erik, the owner: “Sell me the 1500 GS and put the money into restoring the other Porsches.”
The telephone rang two days later: Erik told Paul that the body painter had already done his work on the GS and wanted 6,000 US dollars. Paul: “I didn’t have a choice. When the car arrived here I could have cried. The painter had hastily sprayed over everything without any pretreatment. The paint therefore all had to come off right down to the bare metal. Bob Garretson in Sonora, close to San Francisco, did the engine for me. He became a good friend through this project. Bob can tell great stories about how he earned his fortune mass-testing computer chips. And about how he won in Daytona in 1981 in a 935 together with Brian Redman and Bobby Rahal. Anyway, I suggested that I would go to California when he had the engine on the test rig for the first time.
He made a better suggestion: “You pay my flight to New Zealand. I’ll come with the engine and get it up and running properly in your car.” That was in 2010. Today I really enjoy driving the Carrera, there is something quite magical about it. The quad-camshaft engine is a jewel – even though it does not deliver remarkable torque and has its own special moods. Starting the engine is not that easy because it has large ports for high engine speeds. But when it is running and you press the accelerator, there is no stopping it. It’s pure pleasure.”
Like an invitation to a Sunday excursion, the third 356 in the most delicate Meissen Blue is standing next to its cousins – the 356 A Super Coupé from 1958. The only right-hand-drive vehicle in Paul Higgins’ eye-catching collection. A monument to South-West Pacific Porsche patriotism, if you like: “The car came from Zuffenhausen directly to Australia, and then travelled to New Zealand with its owner in 1961. When he was transferred home again, he left the wonderful Porsche here. At some point we heard that the Coupé was going to go back to Australia. I didn’t want to let that happen, because there are only very few attractive A Coupés in our country. I had it repainted after someone drove into a door. The Coupé is an aesthetic delight, and with the one-piece seat bench it is even a special 356.”
And the mysterious 1950 Cabriolet? Paul turns on the PC and takes a deep breath. The photos. There it is. Currently being painted in Brixen, Italy. “A work of art! That will be the jewel in my collection. The Reverend Ronald Roland had it in his hall in New Haven, Michigan, for a few years and then sold it to the Netherlands, where my son David found it in 2007, took it for a spin and immediately fell in love with the Cabriolet.
It is the Reutter Cabriolet with chassis number 5.135. Reutter built twelve of these Cabriolets. As far as I know, five or six have survived and three have been restored. Ours is the fourth.” It is planned to complete restoration at the end of 2019. The Cabriolet will then stand in the small hall in its original “Radium Green” with dark-green interior. The oldest Porsche in the southern hemisphere.
One Coupé stands out from the rest in Paul’s room full of priceless vehicles – the 962 C from 1989, which Brun Motorsport from Switzerland raced in 1989 and 1990. Paul: “I was very interested in historic motor sports, and had my eye on a 907 or a 908. But my older son Andrew, who has had some success in Formula 5000, among other things, warned me: “Dad, you will kill yourself in a car like that.” In 2015, I saw a lot of men of my age at the Rennsport Reunion in Laguna Seca who were having a great deal of fun with RSR and 962 cars. So I thought: “Anything they can do, I can do too.” Andrew found the 962 C with a carbon fibre chassis from TC Prototypes in England.
In May 2016, work started on overhauling the transmission and engine in the UK. I took care of the chassis, running gear, brakes and electrical system myself with my own special company Classic Revival.” There were hardly any limits to the passion for detail. For example, a housing for the modern electronics from Motec was produced with a 3D printer and is almost impossible to tell apart from the Bosch original from the 80s. At the start of May 2018, Paul and Andrew drove the shakedown in Donington, and the father and son then went to the Spa Classic: “I hadn’t driven in a race for 18 years and I reached my limit in Spa, which meant I was overcautious.
After a break in Italy, where I admired our Cabriolet, Andy and I took part in the Le Mans Classic, to which we were invited after Goodwood. We got the 962 there, and I experienced some of the best automotive days in my life. In the 70th anniversary year of Porsche! My wife and I could hardly believe it – two Kiwis from the other end of the world in Goodwood, our 962 C parked next to the Le Mans winner from 1987. Derek Bell came across for a chat. We then received an invitation to dinner, and my wife and I quickly bought a dinner jacket and evening gown. 1,600 people were sitting together in the evening. On the next day, we drove up the hill in Goodwood seven times. My son in a 935, me in the 962 C. And a few weeks later, this unbelievable year continued in wonderful fashion at the Rennsport Reunion in the USA. But Goodwood was one of the highlights. That’s for sure.”
And then from the 700 PS of the 962 C back to 75, with luck also 110 PS in the 356? “Wonderful,” says Paul. “There is this saying that fits perfectly for the 356: ‘It is much more fun driving a slow car fast than driving a fast car slowly.’”