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Dan helped me fulfill a somewhat forgotten lifelong ambition yesterday evening. I was obsessed with Volkswagen’s original Beetle when I was a little boy, and looked forward to owning one when I turned 17 and passed my driving test. That dream was never realised, partly because I didn’t pass my (second) test until I was 18, and partly because when I did, my grandparents handed me their then 14 year-old Polo. Which, as those who know me would testify, got me becoming obsessed with Volkswagens of another kind.

But, with over 21 million examples having found homes across the world, I can see why the little car endeared itself to each and every one of them. Dan’s 1972 example was towards the end of the model’s production run in Europe, and although production ceased totally in 2003, the car was fundamentally the same as when it was introduced some 65 years earlier. Some even doubted if production would ever end, but Volkswagen called time on it’s air-cooled legend, after a prolonged stay of execution, with the car living out its retirement in South America.

There are too many Beetle facts, figures, and stories to go into here, but my own on Saturday night was memorable. I’d been a passenger in one of the bubble-shaped cars a few years back, and even then it lived up to its legacy. It’s actually a very small car, even though I had previously thought that the bolted-on and protruding wings made it rather large; you can see why Americans noted its smallness when they took it to their hearts in the 1960s.

Inside it’s very cosy, and with no room for luggage, quite impractical. The windscreen is close to your face, and there’s absolutely no crash protection. The steering is best described as vague, and the brakes are near non-existent. But, with the noisy flat-four engine chugging away behind you, all seems to be forgiven.

All of a sudden all of those idiosyncrasies seem to not matter. You are immediately transported back at least 30 years, and all the memories of loving the car in my childhood came flooding back. The first Volkswagen shows I ever attended were because of the Beetle, and Herbie was my favourite movie star when I was a young and impressionable lad (my mum took me to see the series of 1970s Disney films starring the ‘Love Bug’ in the cinema at the time of their release). Even my love of Polos and other modern-day water-cooled Volkswagens stem from the fact that the Beetle introduced me to that iconic interlocked VW badge.

So, I have a lot to thank this little car for. And, although it would be nice to have a restored late Sixties example, or a late Seventies GT Beetle under a dust sheet which could be flung back for those few and far between sunny Sunday afternoon drives (from a wooden double-door garage of course), I have to be realistic. For now, I’ll continue to admire the little cars from afar, and remember that, for once, something legendary is actually deserving of its status.

Another Sunday, another day spent in a field with lots of old and not so old Volkswagens. But yesterday I wasn’t just admiring them as a visitor, but examining them at close quarters, and awarding points. Yes, it was the one time of the year when I wear my concours judge hat.

The theory is simple. A class of cars fight it out for points awarded to them on the basis of cleanliness, originality, or tasteful modifications. First place and runner-up prizes are awarded in each class, rosettes and trophies given, and everyone congratulates the lucky winners. Job done.

Not so yesterday. A shortfall of judges and larger than expected classes of cars meant that, as judges, we had our work cut out. The ‘other water-cooled’ mixed class of Audis and Volkswagens was larger than I had thought, and with each car taking an average of 10 minutes to judge, much of the middle part of the day was spent scrabbling around in the grass looking at floorplans and walking around talking to the owners, clipboard in hand.

Added difficulties included modified cars sitting in the same class as standard vehicles, and two-year old hatchbacks mixing it with twenty-year old coupes. I mean, how do you score an old car with excellent paintwork and interior with another which also has coachwork and a cockpit of an equally high standard, but is fifteen years younger? The older car should score similar points to its newer opponent, as it has been looked after for a much longer period of time.

It can be a tricky job, but I think all went well yesterday.

It was the older cars which caught my eye during the afternoon in Kent, though. The Series 1 water-cooled Volkswagens from the 1970s were pretty cars, but as rust-proofing was more of an afterthought in those days, few survived, and good examples are hard to find.

Mildly-restored Series 1 Polo from 1979 wore a typical 1970s paint colour 

But, a 19 year-old Polo, and an 18 year-old Scirocco were delights to judge, their crisp lines still attracting as much attention as their successors spread around them in the field. Of course, a judge’s preference may also have a part to play in deciding a winner, but overall, cleanliness and condition must prevail.

Original: new Scirocco will surely make older models gain more prevalence

An enjoyable (and surprisingly sunny) day was topped off perfectly by supper in the garden at Gareth and Debs’, enjoying the last of the day’s sun, as it slowly started to set through the tree canopies above us. The orange and pink-skied journey home was fuss-free, too. All in all, a very enjoyable weekend day out.