Monday, 31 May 2010

Songs for swinging lovers

  • A small child argues unsuccessfully with his teacher claiming, "I need to keep my glasses on to see my dreams". Then Charlene from the back of the room states, “I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me". Finally, Butch shouts "How do know if I'll miss you when you don't want to leave?" Discuss

Introduction to the project


The Burlington project

In the beginning……………….

No one would have believed, at the start of this project, the roller coaster ride that would follow over the next five years. From a stuttering beginning in June of 2005 the original concept to ‘simply’ refit of a ‘fun car’ would change dramatically over the coming months and years. In what seems now like a past life, I had enthusiastically but clumsily assembled the vehicle over an eighteen months period from 1980 to 81. Just like many other boyhood toys the Burlington was finally stored, predictably forgotten rotting for a number of years.


I had originally bought the car on somewhat of a calculated whim after a visit to a Manchester kit car show. The model that I desired, on closer inspection, appeared crudely constructed, angular, but sadly, on the whole, dated. In retrospect it was not unlike the majority of options that were available at the time: usually designed then built by a possessed anorak with a desire to create the next MGF, Bugatti type 29 or anything that resembled a 30’s style English sports car. The materials commonly employed tended again to be DIY products, fibreglass, plywood, 2mm aluminium, 4mm box section steel. Occasionally numerous parts were liberated from existing models: wind screens, wings, grills often were the most commonly mimicked, then cobbled together, not surprisingly defectively, by ex mechanics or ex engineers. And, this was where many of the problems lay. Design, research and an understanding of aesthetics were secondary, this was habitually apparent in most models. Invariably the majority of these enthusiasts failed because they always lacked the true appreciation that constitutes ‘good’ design. These ‘one man bands’ efforts cluttered the exhibition hall, often repetitive, partly finished universally ‘red’. Despondently finding my way to the exit I chanced upon a totally bright, new model to the scene.
Precariously balanced on top of a Triumph spitfire chassis was a bold attempt at ‘Morgan’ look-alike body shell. The builder was Haydn Davies. Typically bohemian, slightly younger, lighter, brighter but significantly the only builder without facial hair: I have forgotten to mention that as well as producing red sports cars most constructors proudly sported the obligatory full beard. He had not encountered a single customer all day. The first impression of his ‘concept’ was a breath of fresh air. Beautifully ageless, sweeping yet fragmentary multi-coloured contours, the antipathy of what I had perceived earlier in the day. I did not notice the complete lack of finish. Possibly 80% of the car was missing. It was a shell, an experimental prototype, an incomplete notion, a blank canvas crying out to be fashioned into a masterpiece. Haydn had missed all the deadlines that he had ambitiously set himself but he was still committed to bringing the car to the show: a gamble that had not paid off. Explaining that the entire idea had been conceived to be then manufactured in a lock up garage devoid of any form of power was all the more intriguing. He had hand sawn marine ply to construct the main body tub, reinforced the structure with angle iron fabricated over the door casing of the garage to then painstakingly cover the interior as well as the exterior with fibreglass cocooned in a skin of aluminium. He claimed that the wings together with the nosecone had originally been purchased from Morgan, but he was solely responsible for the construction of the scuttle top and bonnet.


I instantly, naively but fondly appreciated the simple charm and innocence, the lack of sales patter and of course, the vehicle itself. I placed an order straight away not even considering whether or not all the other absent components would ultimately be designed and produced enabling me to complete the build. I didn’t feel at any time that I was buying half a car from a ‘chancer’ who would disappear with my wedge never to deliver. I felt sure that I had made Haydns’ day, he could return to Leamington reasonably happy. My Burlington SS turned out to be the first off the production line (I do use the term very loosely). I have 001, which I have owned for the past 30 years.

Sunday, 23 May 2010


In the next few days I shall attempt to post more information regarding the project including photographic evidence along with the historical background.

Saturday, 22 May 2010

In the beginning








Four years ago I set out to re-build a very unique vehicle that I had owned for 30 years. Originally built in 1979 the car had been left to rot in a garage from 1991. The original design at the time of purchase had not been completely finished. Bought on an impulse it had the special manufacturers number 001.


Upon completion in 1981 we entered the Beaujolais nouveau race for charitable reasons with a support team of 4 very close friends. The re-build was suggested in 2006 to replicate the run 25 years later. The nut and bolt re-birth along with endless modifications is almost complete. the vehicle is without doubt the most interesting in the world.

The story has become not just about the Burlington SS but the about the characters who have physically and mentally contributed to the project. There exists over 5000 photographs plus 500 pages of text. It is a journal of the past 4 years, not just engineering data, but strained personal relationships, social contemporary comment, basic humour, argument and the odd death.