I have been fortunate enough to secure a copy of Motor Sport recently in Malaya, and am dismayed to read of the new 70-m.p.h. national speed limit. Also of note was the number of advertisements at the back explaining disqualification as reason for sale.
Knowing what an impossible state of affairs was existing— and worsening—in September last, I handed in my licence for disqualification, having been an enthusiastic but safe motorist, and a company representative, with my MG.-B, Jowett Jupiter and Vauxhall Viva, for many years. Spending a large proportion of the day on the road, it was only a matter of time before Mr. Marples’ tot-up endorsements overtook me, to terminate my career in the U.K. and my pleasurable driving experiences—such things were then not illegal. Never involved in an accident or insurance claim in my life, the court still saw fit to disqualify me for 38 m.p.h. in Park Lane—which any Routemaster driver knows to be good for 50!
And so my Land-Rover bore me across the Channal and across the world to India and beyond, and I now have International and local licences in good numbers, with which to pursue my sinful sport of motoring, throughout Australia and the Middle and Far East.
I can make due recommendation to you all of the motoring conditions in Australia and elsewhere, and strongly suggest that you consider similar flight from that country wherein some of the world’s best cars are built—and some of the world’s best roads— and whence scores of the world’s most brilliant drivers emanate, but where, if you use any one of the three, you are liable for persecution under the hackneyed Road Traffic Act.
Finally—can it really be true that the current Minister of Transport is a woman ? If so, presumably, Mr. Fraser is the new president of the W.V.S.
My sympathy with you all, gentlemen.
Darwin, Australia. “Expatriot Pommie.” [Name and address supplied.—Ed.]