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Delahaye 180 Franay

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January 2014 - Puzzle

Well, my resolution to become a carriage for the Queen of England failed exactly when we were unloaded form containers, then loaded on another truck (all three of us – me, Talbot and excited Lincoln) and heading towards France. Talbot was happy beyond description when he overheard our mother tongue. I am loyal too, but when I say it, it’s not my fatherland what occupies my mind. My loyalty belongs entirely to my lord, my owner, who can rely on my faithful... read more

Well, my resolution to become a carriage for the Queen of England failed exactly when we were unloaded form containers, then loaded on another truck (all three of us – me, Talbot and excited Lincoln) and heading towards France. Talbot was happy beyond description when he overheard our mother tongue. I am loyal too, but when I say it, it’s not my fatherland what occupies my mind. My loyalty belongs entirely to my lord, my owner, who can rely on my faithful services until the last drop of gas.

 

We travelled for about four days until we were finally dropped from the truck. Then we were placed in a fairly cozy garage.

 

That was about it. What only happened meanwhile was that fellow Talbot was taken away. It was pathetic, as he lamented that „these Slovak barbarians“ would convert him into one big pile of scrap. Yes, Slovaks, as we landed in Slovakia (Lincoln told me). With Talbot gone, there was only the two of us sharing that palce, so Lincoln taught me the local language. It went well – I’m a conscientious student able to learn what they ask me. When I was driving Monsieur, there were plenty of skills to acquire. For instance, driving so smoothly so that the passengers in the rear could sip a glass of Champagne. Or stopping as close to the curb that Madamme had no trouble stepping her foot directly on the pavement. Shifting gears was also a challenge; the mission was not to wake up Monsieur if he, accidentally of course, fell asleep. Pretty tough stuff. But, after all those years, it’s a piece of cake. Learning Slovak was, therefore, not a problem really.

 

After Talbot was gone for a month or so, Lincoln left too. I found myself all alone, but Lincoln was moved only next door and he kept me updated about his restoration, with his typical enthusiasm.

 

My time has come towards the end the year. A rather petit, but handy mechanic appeared – I named him Garçon – and started to unpack out all my parts out of the boxes, placing them on a number of big tables all over the room. He examined carefully every single part which he took out and then place on a table, obviously developing some sort of systematic order. Once everything was out, I couldn’t believe that sight. All this is me? Unbelievable! Even Garçon shook his head as he had no clue where they all belong. I remembered few details, but remained quiet not to disturb his efforts to concentrate.

 

All of these parts resembled one giant puzzle, which would finally create – if installed correctly – a masterpiece, ergo me. Garçon looked funny trying to determine the original position of each part. If anything fitted, there was a brief moment of joy in his eyes. After marking it, he immediately grabbed another one.

 

It is a pleasure to watch it all, but still we break your head over who actually ride and I will be a very important person, it will be ...


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August 2012 - The Queen

Last month, there was one moment, which interrupted this everlasting boredom and loneliness, at least for a while. A young chap appeared, took off my car cover and started to take pictures vigorously. I was thinking about making some poses, but that would just ruin his images. Then he did the same with Talbot and left. The door closed and all that remained was the familiar silence, covered in dark. After few days, my keeper came and begin tidying up. He wiped away the dust,... read more

Last month, there was one moment, which interrupted this everlasting boredom and loneliness, at least for a while. A young chap appeared, took off my car cover and started to take pictures vigorously. I was thinking about making some poses, but that would just ruin his images. Then he did the same with Talbot and left. The door closed and all that remained was the familiar silence, covered in dark.

 

After few days, my keeper came and begin tidying up. He wiped away the dust, got rid of all the junk that piled around me and even moved me a bit! What’s going on? Well, for a while nothing really happened, but then the same young chap arrived, the one who loves to take pictures. A long conversation with the keeper followed. It resulted in signing some sort of document.

 

Fellow Talbot commented that we were just sold, but I remained rather sceptical. However, it turned out he was right. Few days later we were dragged out of the garage, together with the entire collection of boxes filled with my precious parts, and we ended up being loaded on a truck. So the day has finally come! I’m leaving this dark, gloomy garage full of unfulfilled promises.

 

My head was full of thoughts about my future. I couldn’t help myself but wondering, where would I end up. As I was watching cars passing by, I noticed that cars of today seem strange. With the exception of trucks, they were all sort of small. I understood that they were made for ordinary people, but where have disappeared all the important businessmen and tycoons? What ever happened to bourgeoisie? Where have vanished all the big limousines like me?

 

From all that I deduced that the person which I will soon drive around has to be someone exceptionally important, a VIP as they call it today. But who will it be?

We stopped in an unknown port. I sensed that our journey was not over yet. I wasn’t wrong – in a brief moment we were put into containers and then loaded with cranes on a ship. It was this moment when the a chatty, but generally nice American joined us – the jolly Lincoln. Talbot was not exactly the happiest when he found out he’s the one to share the container with Lincoln.  

 

At the port I overheard that we’re heading to England. Hmm, is there anyone utterly important from England who I know? I kept thinking the entire journey. However, no one really significant in need of my services came to my mind.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I am not big headed or too fancy, I could drive just anybody, but seeing those silly little cars of today, it just has to be someone who is very, very high. And who is the in the highest place? Her Highness of course! Once I’m fully restored and I get back my epic black paintwork, I am fully determined to serve the United Kingdom. I will ride the Queen of England!


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Prologue - Dust

Another day passed by, another layer of dust on my bodywork. I have already lost the last pieces of hope and ceased to wait number of years ago. It was difficult to give up the hope that one day, on my back seats I’ll ride again some eminent people again. Presidents, statemen, ambassadors and various attaché. I was built in Delahaye factory as a Type 180. I had no clue back then that I would be one of the very last cars of the Delahaye family. As Type 180 was the... read more

Another day passed by, another layer of dust on my bodywork. I have already lost the last pieces of hope and ceased  to wait number of years ago. It was difficult to give up the hope that one day, on my back seats  I’ll ride again some eminent people again. Presidents, statemen, ambassadors and various attaché.

 

I was built in Delahaye factory as a Type 180. I had  no clue back then that  I would be one of the very last cars of the Delahaye family. As Type 180 was the largest of all available models, from the very first moment I knew that my destiny is to become a large limousine driving important people. To fulfill my destiny I was sent to famous coachbuilder Franay. I was painted in light color, equipped with a huge number of glittering chrome bits and a luxurious creame interior.

 

Yes, I looked gorgeous, but times were tough; shortly after the war, I was too flamboyant to sell good. Huge limousines were definitely not very sought-after.

 

When I was finally bought by my new owner in 1953 (I named him simply Monsieur), the good times began. He tuned me a bit and  replaced  the light color with black, with few details being added.


I have served faithfully my Monsieur for a long time, I drove him wherever and whenever he needed. Drivers were changing, but the two of us remained. I was really happy in those days. But everything comes to an end eventually, and so did my service. Monsieur died and with him gone, no one cared of me anymore. I no longer drove and started  to decline gradually.

 

12 years ago, hope sprang anew. I was relocated to California and my current owner had started to renovate me thoroughly. First step was a complete dismantling, with large volume of parts being re-chromed, then he refurbished my engine and got me a brand new upholstery. He also decided to paint me maroon.


My recovery continued successfully until that fateful Friday. I don’t know whether it was the 13th, but for me it was surely the second worst day of my life (the worst was when Monsieur passed away). Yet in the morning there was zero indication of the disaster approaching. That day everything went normal, but on Monday… No one showed up. I was surrounded by tools, some parts were waiting on the table ready to be installed, but no one came. At first I thought it’s just holiday, but after a month of darkness and silence I finally realised this was no holiday: Since then, I had waited every single day for the door to open and smiling faces to enter the garage in order to finish the job. It was hopeless. No one ever came.

 

For 5 long years I was just quietly standing on the spot and waiting. From time to time the owner appeared, but ignored me completely like I was invisible. It was only after those 5 years that he noticed me again. When he gave me a long gaze and then grabbed a screwdriver which was lying on my doorsill, I nearly cheered loudly out of pure joy. How disappointed I was when he just put that screwdriver back into toolbox. He did that with all the other tools and the dismantled parts went into cardboard boxes. The last touch was to cover me with a large white blanket. That was it.

 

Since then, I was waiting for the blanket to be uncovered and the restoring will resume. However, as the days went by, the only thing that happened was that the blanket allowed me to see my small cell, I mean workshop. Apart from that, nothing has changed.

 

There’s no more hope for me. This is my final destination. My despair grows just as much as the thick layer of dust on my once-majestic bonnet.


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