Final Footnotes From France

All too soon my French idyll has come to a close.  The time has gone by like a rocket, but I am very happy with the progress I have made, what I have achieved this week.  In glorious surroundings, looked after by such good friends, I have managed to gather myself, get a grip on the job at hand, and quite simply, write.  I was really quite daunted at the beginning – a wee bit anxious about the files and files of information and the challenge to quite literally recommence the process of putting one word after another, but even though I have miles, or rather pages and pages to go, I have sat this week and used the research materials to slowly create text, and I have really enjoyed it.  Also, because I have been chasing after Marathon information for such a long time now, I am noticing and recognising inaccuracies in the various books and articles I have gathered – I suppose everyone uses a little artistic licence when telling stories, especially if the story is being told by someone who witnessed events first hand, negotiated a publishing deal, and therefore had to craft an exciting eye-witness account into chapters on the page!

Writing this, my head is still full of the Olympic Opening Ceremony from last night.  As France is an hour ahead, it meant staying up well past my bedtime, but what a fantastic spectacle!  I confess I was quite relieved when all those Mary Poppins floated down and saved everyone from the Dementors, I must say, and the lighting of the Olympic Cauldron was spectacular.  Also, as I had been writing about the Red Arrows earlier in the day (one of the Marathon teams consisted of three Red Arrows pilots), it felt rather fitting to see them fly over head, the red, white and blue trails cutting a dash across the Olympic sky. I can’t wait to hear how it was to witness it all first hand, to actually be there in the stadium.  Rob’s many text’s during the evening were filled with sheer excitement - as he said, it was all “just dream come true stuff”.

Well, as I write I will shortly need to pack up all my bits and pieces and journey back to Gloucestershire.  Do I have much more to do with my Marathon story?  Good grief, yes!  Have I ‘broken its back? Yes again.  I’m indebted to my friends here and am very grateful to know that I have a place to come if I need to get my head down and work.

 It’s been a wonderful week.

Footnotes From France 5

I suspect people who write fiction, write thrillers or detective stories or village dramas can sit in front of their laptop, or at their desk with pen and paper and produce pages and pages every day.  I also suspect that those folks who strive to produce non-fictional accounts of historical events, or biographies, or political analyses of past governments, spend much time grappling with research materials, cross-referencing, hunting through notes or other books or press cuttings to find a reference they need.  In other words, the actual transfer of ideas and facts and experiences onto the page takes time!

Countless times yesterday I disappeared off down different rabbit holes of information, looking for the reference I needed – did all of the Porsches in the Marathon have the heavy duty steel protection cages to shield them from wayward marsupials?  Was there really a large painting of a tortoise atop the roof of the little Morris 1100?  Was it just a Ford Cortina that ran on remould tyres (as a stunt to promote a tyre remoulds company!), or did the Peugeot have them too?  For me it’s all fascinating stuff, but the challenge is to make it interesting for a reader.  My mantra, as I write and research, is quite simply “This is not for those who already know about the Marathon, but for those who don’t”, and I will be quite happy for the many BMC 1800 or Lotus Cortina enthusiasts, or experts in the history of factory motorsports divisions to find scant information about the technical specification of an overhead camshaft engine with decreased compression, or the exact measurements of a protection cover for a Mercedes hydraulic clutch operating cylinder, or whether to have variamatic steering on a 5 litre V8 Holden with automatic transmission and 14”wheels or…

See where I’m going with this?  I am keeping in my mind people who know little or nothing about the great trans-world adventure of November and December 1968, and therefore the human stories of success and failure on the road to Sydney.  Now I may well refer to things like ‘radiator mounting’, or ‘head gasket’ or ‘tappet tools’ from time to time, but only in context, have no fear.

Right, where was that reference to the guy who crashed and damaged his car the day before the Marathon set off?

PS Spare a thought for Rob today, as he travels into London and onwards to the Olympic Park to watch the Opening Ceremony.  I suspect he didn’t sleep much last night!

Footnotes From France 4

So I was listening to the radio last week as a writer was being interviewed.  Can’t for the life of me recall who he was, but he was saying that it had taken him 15 years to write the book he had recently had published!  While I have no intention of taking that long to complete what I am writing, yesterday it did strike me that in September it will be two years since I began this odyssey.  As my plan is to mix in the story of my own journey along the Marathon trail, as it were, yesterday I was revisiting the timeline since I first had the slightly crazy idea to see if any surviving ‘marathoniers’ were out there and whether they’d be willing to share their memories and stories.  Now in July 2012, because I have been sorting all the recollections and press cuttings and photographs into neat and tidy (i.e. accessible) files, I’m still astonished how much information I have collected, and I’m still getting jolts of excitement as I read through various newspaper articles and discover new tid-bits of information.  For example, given the huge cost for someone to not only register their entry into the Marathon, but then actually drive their trusty 1960s family car along the 10,000 mile route, meeting the costs of fuel, tyres, oil, repairs and maintenance, food and water and return ticket from Sydney, it’s extraordinary to think that by the closing date for application on June 1^st, 1968, entry was over-subscribed and a large reserve list had to be created.  Scanning down the entry list as it appeared in June of that year, it’s also fascinating to see that by November when the Marathon began, half of the runners and riders had completely changed, probably because so many of the ‘ordinary motorists’ came to realise that either their sturdy Morris Oxford Traveller wasn’t really in a fit state to driver over the Khyber Pass, or that despite their best efforts, they just hadn’t been able to raise the necessary funds to get themselves all the way to Australia.

For example, as late as October 1968, official press packs included a profile of a Mr and Mrs Grensted of Taunton in Somerset.  Describing themselves as “Mr and Mrs Average Motorist”, they confessed to never having done any rallying before because they could never find the time!  Mr Grensted calculated that in total he would need £3,000 to cover all expenses, but had at time of going to press only raised £40!  Suffice to say, the Gensteds were not in the starting line up at Crystal Palace.  Rather sad, really…

So, another glorious day beneath the big French sky. 

Footnotes From France 3

Sitting here and sifting through the many scanned press cuttings, photographs and documents that I’ve amassed over the past 18 months or so, I’m struck by how enthusiastic the Indian press and motoring organisations were when the 72 surviving cars rolled into Bombay in December 1st 1968.  Asides from the hazards awaiting the cars as they drove into Bombay, thousands of people lining the roads to the point where a corresponding number of feet were driven over (and at least one cyclist was sent flying over the top of a marathon car), the reception in India’s capital city was huge.  Assorted prizes were on offer for the leading car and crew, leading private entry and leading women’s team, and between arrival and departure by ship on December 3^rd competitors were invited to one reception after another.  The women’s team prize went to the privately entered Volvo station wagon crew of four, the youngest of whom was only 21.  The ceremony and party took them all completely by surprise, although the cheque for £200 was probably very welcome.  There was also not a little controversy, as although the leading private entry was a Mercedes, the actual prize was given to another Volvo crew, causing much bad feeling.  Apparently the organisers decided incorrectly that the Mercedes wasn’t privately backed, and while this was eventually rectified on arrival in Perth, by then nobody cared about what had happened in India – it was the Aussie crossing that filled everyone’s minds.

And so my complete immersion in the Marathon continues.  At one point yesterday I looked up and realised 4 hours had passed without my knowing.  Mind you, I did go for a wander at one point and came across a lavender bush covered with humming bird moths, all gracefully flitting here and there.  Quite a sight. 

As we were leaving for dinner at a local restaurant last night, Rob sent me a text to say he had managed to get a ticket for the Opening Ceremony of the Olympics on Friday.  How fantastic is that?  He will actually be there in the stadium to see it all unfold.  When we settle down to watch it on the television on Friday, I shall keep an eye out for him the crowd! 

Right, back to 1968 and all that.

Footnotes From France 2

Where did the day go yesterday?  Sat completely absorbed by the job in hand and suddenly it was 6.30pm aka ‘wine o’clock’!  While the sun beats down on the beautiful green countryside, it is deliciously cool in this stone cottage, and my lovely friends have made sure I want for nothing.  I am very fortunate to have been afforded this opportunity, and owe them a big debt of gratitude (if not a big debt of dinner before I leave!)

Yesterday I wrote some more pages and then set about cataloguing and filing the huge amount of scanned documents I have amassed.  Since I began this ‘marathon’ to research the Marathon, I am astonished at how much material I have been able to gather.  In 2012, ‘hoarding’ seems to have become a dirty word, but all I can say is I am deeply thankful that so many of the extraordinary men and women with whom I have spoken or emailed have ignored this ‘lifestyle’ directive and kept archives, files and boxes of press cuttings, photographs, letters and assorted memorabilia from their adventures across the world in 1968.  Yesterday I was sorting through scanned files of press cuttings from a host of international newspapers – India, Hong Kong, Australia, and the USA.  While I was already aware of how extensively the British and Australian press covered the Marathon during 1968, yesterday I realised the Indian press were also extremely enthusiastic and committed to reporting the passage of cars and crews through India to Bombay.  I even came across a cutting from a Hong Kong newspaper which feverishly reported that a British car had ‘gone missing’ in the Outback, and at the time of going to press on December 16^th, no so trace had been found!  One can only hope that the families of Messrs. La Trobe, Chesson and Warner were spared this particularly alarmist headline in the week before Christmas 1968.  Needless to say, all was well in the end – the British Volvo was swiftly located and its crew found safe from harm, although as the car was beyond repair, their dream of crossing the finish line in Sydney was dashed.

And so today I shall continue to immerse myself in that thrilling period from 1968, while various activities go on around me – the sound of bailing echoes across the fields, mowing and strimming are underway, and above it all, bird song fills the air.  This part of the world is quite stunning, and I can see why so many arrive and never leave again!

Happy days…

Footnotes From France

I have realised that trying to ‘write’ is 10% creativity and 90% discipline.  These past 3-4 months, trying to combine paid work, day-to-day life and making the time to carry on with research and writing has been hugely difficult.  Distractions and other priorities pop up all the time, and once the evening or weekend arrives, it’s all too easy to collapse in an exhausted heap.  My conclusion?  The creativity is willing, but the discipline is weak!

This is why I now find myself tucked away in a remote part of South West France, courtesy of my lovely friends who live down here.  They very generously offered me the opportunity to take a week away from daily life, and get on with the job at hand without distraction, so armed with my laptop, and various books and papers, I flew down here yesterday, collected a rental car from the airport and after only getting lost twice, arrived bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to go.  It’s a delight to be here amidst the rolling fields and farms and forests, to see my friends again and to spend the day catching up, putting various worlds to rights and then sitting down to watch the final stage of the Tour de France on the television, our own Bradley Wiggins wearing the yellow jersey, victory assured, the jostling for position up and down the Champs-Élysées, each team working to line up their best sprinters for the final burst to the finish line.  Thrilling stuff, not least because for the first time in Tour de France history, a British rider has won, with a second Brit as runner up, and to cap it all off, a third Brit winning the final sprint finish in Paris.  Not sure about Lesley Garrett singing the national anthem though…

But back to the job at hand – I have decided to revisit my blog as a means of warming up my creative writing style again, while also reasserting a degree of discipline.  I suspect the week will hurtle by, but other than the occasional trip down to the Tabac, it’s really just me, a laptop and enough research material to populate a small library.

Wish me luck!