If you have read the printed version, you may appreciate why I prefer the original.

Happy reading.

Many have written in Porsche Post of their exploits in near and far flung locations, but I am embarrassed to say that this is, perhaps, the first of such reports that I have actually read.  However, so as to try to appeal to a slightly wider audience than the 16 people who stayed at, or visited, Newmiln House in Perth from Saturday 28^th May to Saturday 4^th  June, I will endeavour to answer the following questions:-

1. Are 944 Turbos faster than 944 S2s?
2. Do 911 Carrera 3.2 drivers have massive cojones?
3. Is the 924S any good at all?
4. Does advanced driving technique make any difference?

The 944 Scotland Tour 2005 was organised by acting 944 Register Secretary Nick Fearn and promised much.  “Opulent and exclusive accommodation in a magnificent country house” and “some of the best driving ever experienced” were two of the grand boasts made by our leader. How could he hope to deliver? 

In addition to PCGB duties, Nick is also a member of several advanced driving organisations. Based on his experience, Nick had suggested that he would be happy to offer some driving coaching to any who attended the Tour, if requested.  Offering a man advice on his driving is, perhaps, less popular than sleeping with his wife; so such requests were anticipated as being in short supply.  “How many Porsche drivers need advice on their driving? “Come off it mate! It is a well known fact that Porsche drivers are at the very pinnacle of driving skill. Were it not for age, family or commercial constraints we would all be motor racing legends.”

Due to sundry commitments, not least of which being trying to earn the money to pay for the event, I find myself writing of the trip some time after the fact.  This is perhaps advantageous since, rather than getting bogged down in the day to day “..we went here or there..” one can reflect more on the essence of the event. Well, in essence, I covered approximately 1850 miles in a week, used approximately £350 of petrol, stayed in a fabulous old house with some great people and experienced some of the best roads I have ever driven on. So, in essence, Mr Fearn delivered on his promises.

The event was conceived as a 944 gathering but, unfortunately, of the 30 odd 944 owners who said they were interested, (in addition to Nick) only Rick Cannell, Tony Foote and myself actually put our money where our mouths were. We were joined  for the first weekend by Donald Grewar and his son Callum, they were unfortunately unable to make the whole week due to different school holidays in Scotland. The small take-up left us with a bit of a problem; we were committed to the house and either had to find more people, or pay next to double that originally anticipated - and I said that all travel articles have an element of prevailing over hardship. Not known for our frivolity, we all agreed that it would be better to fill the available places if possible.  With three of us regular Region 11 attendees, this was an obvious port of call and were delighted to be joined by Sue and Len.  I had very much enjoyed Sue and Len’s company at the 2004 R11 WOTY so knew they would fit in well with a group who already knew each other from sundry previous 944 adventures. I was also pleased that, as Len has a 911, we might now get coverage in Porsche Post ;-). Last, but not least, we were joined by Sian and Richie in Sian’s 924S.

Sian and Richie are one of the bravest pairs I have met. Prior to the event, they had only met Rick and I a couple of times at the Region 10 Ace Café meet and yet they still agreed to come along for the week. Some would say they were overcome with the stupidity of youth, others would say that they hadn’t had a chance to get to know Rick and I previously so didn’t know what they were letting themselves in for.

So it was that, at 8:00am on 28^th May 2005, the following gathered at Birchanger Green services for the long drive north:-

Nick & Margaret - 944 S2

Len & Sue – 911 Carrera 3.2

Rick & Mags - Wuf The Magic Turbot

Sian & Richie - 924S

Me – Beaky, the 944 Turbo (Belinda & Peter flew up the following morning).

We joined up with Yudra and Tony in their 320 bhp 944 Turbo later in the day at Piercebridge, just north of Scotch Corner.

Prior to leaving Essex the cars were bedecked across their front flanks with "Scotland Tour 2005" in the finest of crafted vinyl lettering - just so there would be no doubt that we were foreigners when we got to Scotland.  An additional vinyl script was held in reserve until Len was out of the way. It was two days before Len was aware that across the back of his 911 was the timeless legend "l'd rather have a 944" – if his boot was in the right place he would have seen it straight away! Many thanks to Rick for the lettering - obviously the defacing of Len's car was nothing to do with Rick.

Two-way radios were handed out and call signs, or handles, agreed. Whilst Rick and I carried over our previous sobriquets of "Red Leader" and "Black Knight", Sian became "Baby Porsche" and Nick "Big Beige". Len remained "Len" – well, he's a tough looking geezer and none of us were brave enough to suggest anything else.

The drive North was  reasonably uneventful, taking in the joys of the  A1, and a jaunt across the Pennines on the B6275,B6279, B6282, B6277, A689 and A6071 (roads that everyone should drive at some time in their lives). Skip through Gretna Green, up to the M8, across the Forth Bridge and on to Perth. Well that was the plan!

Once on the B6275, it became very apparent that Nick's advanced driving technique was far more than just talk.  Despite being 20 or 30 (or more) horses down on a number of cars in the convoy, his ability to disappear over the horizon readily demonstrated that it’s not the size of your equipment that matters......  I had the dubious honour of following him on this stretch and concluded that five years motor racing counted for nothing in the real word. When we stopped for tea I asked Margaret, Nick’s wife and valiant passenger, how she felt. Apparently, she had been feeling a little green until Nick started to commentate on why he was driving as he was, what the road was doing, what was going to happen in a mile’s time, why he was positioned at a particular place on the road and the thousand and one subtleties that set an advanced driver apart from the rest of us. The commentating trick was something I would employ to great effect during the rest of the week, once I collected my team from Edinburgh Airport. If I learnt nothing else from Nick, this tip alone was worth the cost of the week. Peter and Belinda no longer complain about feeling ill when we are "pressing on"; I probably drive better because I have to concentrate 100% on the driving and want to explain every subtle nuance (because it makes daddy look like a driving god). It is a skill that can be learnt ;-)

As we "pressed on" into Scotland it became apparent that much of the week would be spent looking for Shell Optimax.  How strange that the Mad Max films should be almost prophetic of our own search for OptiMax. Roadworks, and a reported hour long delay on the Forth bridge, sent us on our first foray into darkest Scotland in search of the essence of go. We ended up in Falkirk and quickly started to question the merits of driving around in fairly conspicuous cars bearing stickers demonstrating we were “not from these parts”. If anything would mark us out as Sassenachs , aside waving flags of St George, then Scotland Tour stickers was pretty much it. With Wuf The Magic Turbot producing more than 110db from his slightly modified exhaust system, there was no way we were going to arrive anywhere discretely anyway.

As mentioned earlier, all good travel journals have an element of danger or hardship, we found ours in a doorway at a filling station in Falkirk.  After limited success in overcoming the language barrier with the cashier, I marched out of the door to be confronted by a gentleman, obviously well lubricated, having already been in some form of fight as evident by the blood over his nose, face and shirt.  I understood his comments less than those of the cashier and departed with some haste.

We arrived at our base for the week as night descended and would suggest that all were suitably gob smacked.  Newmiln House was superb. We were greeted by a local 944 owner, Donald and his son Calum, who quickly demonstrated the facilities and accommodation. Mr & Mrs Fearn, as organisers, were granted the master suite with a TV set that must have seven feet across the diagonal – this suite had been previously frequented by Jude Law and Sadie Frost, apparently. Miss Frost was no longer in residence; the room was good, but it wasn’t that good. The rest of us fought, negotiated and scrambled for the remaining lesser quality rooms, none of which needed to be described as adequate. Noting the impending arrival of little Peter, and the various benefits of keeping him out of the way of others, I managed to secure my own wing. For an overall feel for Newmiln House it is best to view the pictures as my limited prose will not do it justice.

The evening commenced, in the grand dining room, with Chilli Con Carne brought all the way from Essex by Nick and Margaret.  This was helped on its way by copious alcoholic beverages supplied by Donald - anyone who suggests that Scots are tight needs a good slap.  After several such beverages none of us could remember how many times the art of advanced driving was discussed but, during these discussions, the week’s catch phrase was born "It's a skill that can be learnt." Subsequently, most actions were referred to in such terms, whether drying dishes, or sex, it was generally "....a skill that could be learnt.”

Without Belinda around to keep me on the straight and narrow, I vaguely remember going to bed as the sky lightened. Not such a great idea as by mid morning I had done a site visit for a Scottish client and collected Belinda and Peter from Edinburgh airport. As I returned, with my full team, to Newmiln House the rest of the group were starting to emerge from hibernation.  It had been a damn good first night, but now the week was about to begin in earnest!

The rest of the week is as much of a blur as most of the scenery, and little of it due to alcohol. We covered spectacular distances on spectacular roads, which flowed into the distance with next to no other cars to be seen. As you would expect, sensible speeds were maintained throughout the week. What was surprising is how the 924S was found far from wanting during periods when more progress was called for. The roads alone were good enough reason to go to Scotland but, for those in the passenger seat, we did stop and get out at Lock Ness, Glamis Castle, Oban Distillery and just a few other places -well we didn't want to miss too much driving time.

Now, to return to the questions noted within the first part of this tome:

Are 944 Turbos faster than 944 S2s?  Not if the S2 is driven by someone who knows what they are doing. On twisty, challenging roads the S2 is perhaps better. Its smooth power delivery means that power can be fed in mid bend, as soon as the end of the corner appears. A Turbo has more power but, after the lag of the turbo spooling up, the brutal delivery means such force cannot be bought to bear until the car is pointing straight – not necessarily the easiest thing to do on damp twisty bits.

Do 911 Carrera 3.2 drivers have massive cojones? Absolutely! One drizzly afternoon, as we motored through a damp mountain scape (a ski resort in the winter), we were confronted by just about every corner you could imagine. As I went around one particularly “interesting” corner, it went off camber and tightened, but was such that it didn’t look like it did, I was given to think “I wouldn’t want to be in a 911 going around there”. Len was behind me… in a 911. Were he a man with smaller spherical danglies, I may have been reversing up to pull him out of the Scottish scenery. As it was, instead of lifting off the gas when the bend became frightening, Len grabbed his car by the scruff of the neck and no further drama ensued.

Is the 924S any good at all? Absolutely, and as already noted. It is light and nimble with similarly linear power delivery to that already discussed for the S2. Around Scotland it was found far from wanting and fitted in with the rest of the convoy without any problems. I think we were all suitably surprised and impressed with its performance.  It may not look as butch as a Turbo but it is still very much a Porsche.

Does advanced driving technique make any difference? Very much so. On the way home, I put my ego in a box, and asked Nick to passenger with me for a stretch and provide some input to my drive.  Within a very short period of time the rest of the convoy had disappeared from sight in my rear view mirror and yet our progress was smooth, flowing and unhurried even to the point of being relaxed.  Nick’s awareness of the road, and of forthcoming potential hazards, seems almost clairvoyant, though I am assured it is a skill the can be learnt.

Ending with most notable moments would be selfish and self indulgent for those that were there. Suffice it to say that we had such a great time that we are going to do it again in 2006.