Monte Carlo Or Bust

It’s the late 1980s and Paul gets a plum job driving a Toleman transporter carrying extremely expensive classic cars to a posh, pre-Grand Prix auction in Monaco.

It’s 8 March 1987, a day etched in my memory. Not only is it my 40thbirthday, but I’d been offered an opportunity to partake in a little piece of motoring history.

“Paul,” comes a shout from across the yard, as I’m strapping down my load of Volvo cars, ready for tomorrow’s delivery.

I turn to see our shop steward, Robbie Blackwell, striding across the loading pad.

“Hello Rob,” I say, stepping off the bottom deck and shedding my gloves. “What’s up, mate?”

“Got a nice little job for you – if you fancy it?” Rob says. “Oh, aye, what’s that then,” I reply, intrigued.

“How’d you fancy a trip to Monte Carlo?” “You what, Rob?” I respond, mildly shocked. “Monte Carlo?” “Yep, I’ve put your name forward.

That’s if you’re interested, of course. It should have been Les Taylor, but he’ll be away on holiday.”

“Bloody right I’m interested,” I reply, gathering my thoughts.

“Cheers Rob, but why me? There are 600 drivers working for Toleman, must be plenty of blokes would love this number.”

“I know,” he replies, “but as you’ve done loads of Continental in a past life and have a smattering of French, I suggested you.”

“I don’t know what to say mate, thanks a bunch.”

As our shop steward, Robbie could have nominated anyone, so I am really grateful for his support.

“All I can tell you is that there are four of you double-manning two car transporters – Phil Parsons from the Harwich depot, Del Thompson from Dagenham, Hughie High from Milton and you.” Blimey, these are big fish in the Toleman pond!