The young and the slammed

Bicester Scramble has changed greatly over the past decade - and so has the site. Murray Scullion mixes with the zoomers to perform a sitrep 

- Murray Scullion

New-build housing estates to my right, Porsche 911s in front of me and a bright yellow sign on my left that reads: 'Bicester Scramble pre-bought tickets only'. I must be en route to Bicester Heritage's first event of the year.

That sign really means 'sold out: don't waste your time unless you've already bought a ticket'. I've been to one Scramble before: the very first one. That had around 300 people at it. Today, it's more like 7000.

A few things have changed, other than the queues to get in and out. For one, there's new stuff. Previously, it was bunker this, hangar that, but now manufacturers such as Alpine and Polestar have big showings. You can even take a Polestar 2 for a test drive.

The largest and most palpable difference, though, is the age of visitors. There's a torrent of young people in every direction, a cascade of zoomers in baggy jeans and mullet haircuts with their phones out (naturally held in portrait format), snapping away for Instagram, TikTok and BeReal.

I have been to hundreds of classic car shows in my time, and this isn't generally how things are done. A typical Sunday morning run involves middle-aged men, fried food in a roll and deckchairs.

How has Bicester substituted panama hats for Crocs? If anyone knows, it's CEO Dan Geoghegan.

He is the mastermind behind the Bicester Heritage site and was responsible for acquiring this former RAF base and transforming it into the 444-acre car theme park here today.

When I sit down with him in the central clubhouse, he attracts people like Twitter users to an EV fire-well-wishers, colleagues and irritating journalists alike. It brought memories of the often-spoofed West Wing TV series featuring Martin Sheen walking through a corridor with a fleet of people vying for his attention.