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The Old Un’s Notes

Made in Solihull: the original 1948 Land Rover

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Arthur Goddard, chief engineer of the original 1948 Land Rover, has revealed how it was originally made – from parts pilfered from Rover’s Solihull factory.

In an interview with Australian magazine Engage 4x4, Goddard, now 100, says he bowdlerised bits to meet his brief – to create a vehicle that could go anywhere, driven by anyone.

‘It had to meet all the army requirements, and it had to be a useful vehicle on the farm where you could go off road, or do a bit of shopping, or you could take a bale of hay across a snowbound field, or whatever,’ Goddard says.

The original Series 1 Land Rover was light green, as Goddard used surplus supplies from aircraft cockpit paint. It was also a stand-alone power unit. Early advertisements showed it attached to working pieces of farm machinery.

The idea was born a year earlier in 1947 when Maurice Wilks, Rover’s chief designer, drew a sketch – on the sands of Red Wharf Bay by his Anglesey farm – of a car that looked like a bit like a Jeep.

He handed the design over to his chief engineer, saying he wanted a prototype within a year. In ten months, the iconic Land Rover was being launched at Amsterdam Motor Show, with a £450 price tag.

Over two million were sold and the Land Rover has been rightly named a car classic. Goddard calls it ‘a bloody miracle.’

In his tribute (July issue) to Proust’s À la recherche du temps perdu, AN Wilson mentions Madame Verdurin, the crass, social-climbing hostess who eventually becomes a Duchess.

This reminded the Old Un of an anecdote told by Gore Vidal. Piqued at the British reception of his book of essays Pink Triangle and Yellow Star, Vidal delivered a caustic riposte in the New Statesman, called ‘Chez Madame Verdurin: the view from Chester Square’. It concluded by recalling that Madame Verdurin had ‘never much liked books anyway’.

Shortly afterwards, the New Statesman got a call from a breathless young woman at one of the glossies – another version says she worked for a TV company – asking for Madame Verdurin’s phone number.

The Old Un appreciates that we Brits are perhaps not the most popular visitors to the Parthenon in Athens, following that spot of

Among this month’s contributors

Madeline Smith (p26) played Miss Caruso, the Bond Girl in Live and Let Die who had her dress unzipped by Roger Moore with a magnetic watch. A Hammer horror star, she was also in Up Pompeii.

Mark Palmer (p25) has worked in Fleet Street for over 50 years. He is Travel & Property Editor at the Daily Mail and the author of two books – about football and Clarks shoes.

John McEwen (p79) writes our Bird of the Month column, illustrated by Carry Akroyd. He was art critic of the Spectator and the Sunday Telegraph and is a regular contributor to Country Life.

Elisabeth Leigh (p22), a documentary director and producer, writes for the Sunday Times. Her novels include Greed. She is now writing a collection of short stories.

Playing with marbles: the Parthenon’s east pediment

bother in the early-19th century involving some marbles and a chap called Elgin. But now things really have gone too far.

The Parthenon marbles that the Greeks did manage to hang on to are beautifully displayed in the nearby Acropolis Museum. It’ll cost you €10 to see them – or €5 if you’re a senior citizen.

But British pensioner readers of The Oldie who visited this summer were asked to show their passports to get their discount – then told that, since Brexit, a UK passport didn’t cut the mustard: they would have to pay full price.

‘Even if we didn’t vote for it?’ they asked hopefully.

‘Yes. For all of you, it’s €10,’ said the unapologetic ticket-seller.

No need to worry about Greeks bearing gifts, then.

Important stories you may have missed

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Toothless man had knife to cut up food Blackpool Gazette

Bus services delayed following reports of yacht in tree Eastern Daily Press

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‘No prizes for guessing this guy’s problem’ The Old Un sympathises with all readers who haven’t been able to get to Greece – or anywhere else – and have had to cancel their foreign holidays, thanks to COVID restrictions.

If they’re looking for some

Joy of missing out: Billy Collins, USA poet laureate

consolation, they can turn to a marvellous poem by America’s former poet laureate Billy Collins, who’s just turned 80.

In the poem, called appropriately Consolation, Collins, a New Yorker, ponders on the silver lining of the cancellation of his trip to Italy. He writes about being able to go to his local café and not do the strange things we do on holiday:

‘And after breakfast, I will not have to find someone/ willing to photograph me with my arm around the owner./ I will not puzzle over the bill or Fans of beautiful books, rejoice!

The Hammersmith home of Sir Emery Walker (18511933), master engraver, photographer and printer, is to have its first show, starting on 12th August.

A new exhibition space in the Arts and Crafts

record in a journal/ what I had to eat and how the sun came in the window.’

Collins’s poem is part of a growing school of literature – what you might call The Joy of Missing Out.

Sophie Hannah, the British poet, composed a masterly poem called The Cancellation after her poetry reading was cancelled:

What ballet or play or reading,

What movie creates a buzz

Or boosts the morale of the nation

As a cancellation does?

No play, is the simple answer.

No film that was ever shown. I submit that the cancellation

Is an art form all of its own.

And now poet Roger McGough, 83, presenter of Radio 4’s Poetry Please, has written a new collection, called Safety in Numbers. Among the poems is one called This summer, we will not be taking a holiday abroad.

The Old Un completely agrees with Roger McGough when he writes, ‘How good to avoid the frenzy of boarding. The boredom of the inexplicable delay. The pain of feigning nonchalance, the practised pretence of being engrossed in a novel.’

For any reader who has ever felt the sheer exhilaration of hearing that an upcoming dinner party has been called off, cancellation poetry is for you.

‘Angela! Come quick! The Johnsons are on National Geographic and you’ll never guess what they’re doing!’

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