Written by Ben Coombes
Following the success of the Pub2Pub Expedition, an epic 27,000-mile drive from the northernmost bar on the planet, to the southernmost, the longest journey ever made by a TVR sports car, Pub2Pub Adventures was born.
Giving others the opportunity to enjoy their own Pub-based travels, Pub2Pub Adventures are running three great trips this year – the Eagle Rally, and the Camembert Run, with many other exciting projects in the pipeline.
ClassicLine are delighted to be a main sponsor of Pub2Pub by providing insurance cover for the fleet of cars including the TVR Chimaera, the Volvo 240, plus another exciting vehicle which we can now reveal… Ben and the Pub2Pub team are going to be keeping us updated here in their regular blog feature over the coming months with news on their travels and adventures!
In celebration of our partnership, Pub2Pub Adventures are offering you the chance to save £50 on your 2019 trip when you insure with ClassicLine. For more details, click here.
For my latest blog post, I’m going to talk about an illness which affects many of us petrolheads, particularly in the winter months when it’s cold and dark outside, and projects are progressing.
Amongst us car enthusiasts, it’s a real thing. We’re talking about that jealousy which sets in when, following the endless hours you put into keeping your pride and joy in tip-top condition in the cramped lock-up or chilly street in which it lives, you see how the other half lives. Or more specifically, how their cars live, in shiny, well-lit workshops with more than enough space to swing a cat..alytic converter.
Okay, that was a terrible pun. I apologise profusely.
Now, this garage isn’t some big commercial affair, with customer cars coming and going and profit being the focus. No, it’s a hobby-kinda place owned by a few like-minded enthusiasts and provides somewhere for them to tinker with their motors to their hearts content.
Now, if you had your own garage, what would you do with it? I’m willing to wager that your answer to that question is pretty much identical to what the Glym9 guys have done. Parking for five project cars, a two-post lift and every tool you could ever need? Check. A bar with a fridge stocked with craft beer, and the means to make a decent coffee? Yep. A huge scalectric track sporting a range of machines which hark back to the glory days of motorsport? Of course. And finally, leather armchairs, a range of guitars and amps and even a life-size Sonic the Hedgehog to watch over proceedings? You bet, they’ve gone down that road too.
Basically, what the good folks of Glym9 have put together is the ultimate man-cave. A retreat from the real world where automotive dreams can be worked towards. Sounds good, doesn’t it? Of course, and we haven’t even got to the cars yet. On my latest visit, there were six motors in the workshop, being fettled and modified in preparation for future adventuring. One of these was a 1970s Mercedes SL, not a bad machine to have lurking around the place, right? Correct, but given the badges on the nose of the other five occupants of the garage, for me the SL was rather overshadowed.
Yes, the other five cars there were all TVRs, in various states of disassembly.
From an almost road ready Chimaera and Griffith, to a Tuscan which is laid out like a glorified airfix kit and a Chimaera with so many mods that the badge on the front lay as well be changed to a handmade, carbon fibre Glym9 logo, there’s everything a TVR enthusiast such as myself needs to pass a few hours, jealous not only of the garage facilities, but also of the fettled fibreglass contained within.
I’ve got a lot of work to do in my own garage this month, getting Kermit ready for the coming year of adventures, which should be kicking off with a trip to the TVR Car Club opener at Burghley House early in April, followed by a trip to France later in the month. As garages go, my workshop isn’t too bad, but it still pales in comparison to what the Glym9 guys have put together in The Netherlands, meaning that as I crawl over Kermit preparing it for the coming year, I’ll still be infected by that most petrolhead of illnesses.