events

Bad Camberg 2003
Truly the Greatest Show on Earth

Just to make the experience that much more special, Pete teamed up with his old friend Shaun Rees (Shaun is the owner of the immaculate Polar Silver '54 that you can see on Page 54) to make the journey from Cornwall, England, to Bad Camberg. The two of them decided to make the trip in appropriate style, covering the 1638 miles in just three days of driving Shaun's showstopper. Not bad for a car that regularly wins trophies all over the U.K. and is 49-years old this year.

Here is Pete's report on both the trip and the show: "Awesome" is a much over-used adjective in my opinion but in the case of this German Vintage VW Show one that, for once, is totally justified. Such a collection of the finest vintage Volkswagens is a huge undertaking, both for the Lotterman family who organize it and for the owners who go to great lengths to get their cars there from all over the world. For this reason the show is only held once every four years, rather than the annual timetable of most other events.

I had not managed to get to Camberg before. The death two years ago of Heinz Willi Lotterman had cast doubt over the future of the show and even when it was announced that it was to go ahead there were rumors that it would be for the last time. This increased the urgency of getting there, and so last year my old friend Shaun Rees and I started planning this trip. Shaun and I have travelled to quite a few U.K. shows in his '54 but this was to be an altogether more serious undertaking.

Because we live in the far south west of England, we decided to avoid the normal Dover-to-Calais option to get across the Channel and go from our home port of Plymouth to Roscoff in Brittany. Although Microsoft Autoroute told us this route added nearly two hundred miles onto the round trip, we opted for it because it meant the final stage of the journey home would be a simple sixty-five miles from Plymouth, rather than some three hundred and fifty across southern England.

We left my house at 8pm on the Wednesday night before the show and drove to Plymouth to catch the night ferry to Brittany. All went well and arriving at the port we had the first of many encounters with people who either own or have owned Beetles. There was a young guy named Luke who is currently engaged in an all-points resto of a '55 ragtop. By Luke's description, it should be a fine example of a clean restoration. Since he lives quite close by we will have to pop in and pay him a visit.

We knew the next day was going to be an epic drive so it was a case of a meal, a beer and a bunk to get some much needed rest.

Looking back, Thursday now seems like a blur. We covered 742 miles in fifteen hours, finally arriving at our hotel at 10:30pm. Fortunately for me, I made some notes as we were travelling and here are some impressions of that long day.

We left Roscoff early, planning to get serious miles under our belts before stopping for breakfast. It was a drizzly gray morning but I had been checking the Internet and we were fairly confident things would pick up before too long. We drove most of the way out of the Brittany peninsula before stopping to pick up some food and fuel at just after 9am. We then headed for the petrol heads' Mecca of Le Mans. The car was performing sweetly with the oil temperature as shown on the original Motor Meter gauge hardly exceeding 90-degrees C at a steady 65mph and fuel consumption at around 40 miles per U.K. gallon.

We made it around the famous Paris Peripherique with a minimum of bother and there then followed a long slog across north eastern France up to the German border. This was notable for three things: the journey through Champagne country which was stunning, driving round Verdun, site of one of the most horrific battles of WWI, which was pretty scary and swapping a series of text messages with our friends Martin and Blanche Adams who, by this time, were already at the hotel sitting on the terrace drinking large German beers and generally chilling out. They managed to make a deal that the hotel restaurant would stay open till 10p.m. and we managed to work out that we weren't going to make it.

At last we hit Camberg just after the restaurant closed and, after a brief detour, found the hotel. At this point a number of good things happened. There was a sight to gladden the heart of any VW enthusiast as we parked next to line of immaculate vintage Type Is, including John Maxwell's '49, Simon Parkinson's '56, Keith Vipond's '55 and Clive Cunio's '55. Parked next to these was Martin and Blanche's Type IV, looking very cool after its lowering job and tasty alloys with low profiles. These were a good sight. The next good thing was the lady at the hotel offering to open up the kitchen when she heard about our journey. Then there were the beers before, during and after the meal. Last but not least were two very comfortable beds although I probably could have slept on a washing line.

The next morning we were up refreshed and tucking into a substantial German breakfast to set us up for the day. Straight away it was clear it was going to be hot, and hot was to be how it stayed until we got back to the U.K. Shaun got the dead flies off PLJ before they cooked on any more and we were down to the sportsplatz in the centre of town to be one of the first dozen cars to park up in the show area. One of the many good things about Camberg is there isn't an actual concours competition--it would be impossible to judge in any case.

The show itself really was the most fantastic collection of vintage VWs anyone could hope to see. It ran from Friday through Sunday with Saturday as the day when the full compliment of cars turned up and the variety and quality of the display was just mind-boggling. In fact I've now learned it's possible to be VW'd out. We got to the stage where we would walk round again and be unable to remember what we'd seen. The beers and heat may have had something to do with that but it was more to do with the sheer volume of the rarest VW and VW-based cars that you'll ever see in one gathering.

As well as the cars, the number of people we knew from the U.K. who had made it to Germany was great. Even better was the number of new people we got to know from all over the world. The organizers estimated there were 27 nationalities represented. We identified Poles, Germans, Brits, French, Swedes, Brazilians, Dutch, Americans, Australians, Austrians, Danes, Italians, Spanish, Portuguese, Belgians, Indonesians, Japanese, Philippines, Canadians and Irish. We had just the best time in the hotel on Saturday night talking and drinking with three ex-pat. Philippinos. Jack had his laptop and showed us his shots from the show that day. Then he went on to another folder and showed us some shots of his garage back home in California--just a small matter of a '51, a '52 and a '79 cab. Then there was the '56 Samba. Oh, and the red one in the background--just the daily driver Ferrari!

Had there been a prize for the most-travelled contingent it would undoubtedly have gone to the Australians. Ray Black and his mates turned up with a mint Country Buggy (only made in Oz and there are under 200 left) and the only Beetle to have driven in the Antarctic. Ray was adamant that they were not taking the cars back with them. So where did they end up?

There was a comprehensive selection of trade stands, as you'd expect at an event of this stature. What was utterly gob smacking were the prices gear was going for. I watched someone hand over 500 Euros [U.S. $568] for a pair of NOS semaphores and Shaun saw a pair of original steel fender skirts up for 2000 Euros [U.S. $2270]. Altogether scary but maybe it just reflects the increasing rarity of these parts.

Not everything was true vintage, like the lowered '55 with Porsche-cooled Type IV engine and genuine BRMs but it was still very cool. My top car of the show was a black '55 with a 356 engine both of which were immaculately presented. This was fired up and the sound was pure poetry. A close second was another Oval with a perfect Judson conversion. Not forgetting the two Dove Blue panel vans, one of which also sported a Judson supercharger. Then there was Carsten Reeder's heavily accessorised daily driver Oval--the list just goes on and on.

The most adrenalin producing moment, for me at least, was the trip up the BBT ladder truck to get the full panorama shots. Sometimes these things just have to happen but the last ten feet was decidedly wobbly!

Bonus Photos