Check the rear cupholders @ 5:43. Yes, I know, I know… but still they’re cool cupholders!
It’s a lifestyle Bentley’s really selling here…
by Gunnar Heinrich ::: img via eBay ::: 1956 Bentley S1 Restoration Project
CARS like this left-hand drive Bentley S1 from all the way back to 1956 can pose certain risks to your health. Why is that? Because, assuming that you’ve bought the S1 for yourself and you personally intend to make it right in all the right ways possible (correct this and period that) it might just become an all-consuming love affair. An obsession.
Your wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/dog(s)/friend(s)/postman/significant others will lose track of you. You’ll lose track of you. You won’t sleep right. The bills won’t get paid on time. You’ll be in the garage where days turn into nights turn into days. You won’t shave. The only mail you’ll want to receive are those parts you’ve ordered from some British supplier in East Anglia.
The Bentley will take over your life. And you’ll think it’s perfectly right. Surely something with this much pedigree, this much engineering, with so much thought and craftsmanship methodically embedded into every cubic inch deserves your best efforts.
From the whisper quiet straight-six to the metallic knob controls on the interior. This saloon was built for a lifetime and now all this wonder has come into yours. And you’ve got to make it right. After all, it reflects you.
How many hours did Rolls-Royce craftsmen take to polish the radiator shell? Was it six? You’ll do ten. The GM four speed gear-swapper doesn’t like third for some reason? You’re going to dive on in there and make it work. Of course, you could just buy a re-built transmission or a new one altogether but then it wouldn’t be original, would it?
Then the day comes when you’ve done all you can do. Blood, sweat, and tears and all that. It’s time the rest of the world knows how grand your Bentley really is. So you take it to the local classic British car show where it will sit between some rusting Austin Healey and some grubby, half-baked Jag. People will casually walk by and say – oooh, nice Rolls. And you’ll have to say – no – YOU WILL HAVE TO SAY:
This is not a Rolls-Royce. It’s a 1956 Bentley S1. One of… And did you know that… And the timing order… the brakes were…
And just then, you’ll have either frightened them off or bored them with the monotonous detail. The ones that stay will nod, half smile and walk away. Hell with ‘em. What do they know about cars anyway?
Oh… but if they only knew! This isn’t a car. It’s your love. The days… the full days of your life. This Bentley isn’t a showcase – it’s a publicized sacrifice.
Your wife left you for the postman. Your dog ran off. Your friends stopped calling. All because of this beautiful ~ wonderful ~Bentley S1 from 1956 that needed your TLC and got it all and then some. You gave your all. And give your all.
That #$@cking panel of judges just gave the award to that old snot with the Morris Minor. Where is the justice? Where is the balance? A Morris over a BENTLEY??? Your chrome door handle is worth more than that whole piece of $#!T!
And that’s when you’ll find that there is no justice. No one cares about your car. Only you do. And now you care more than is right.
For now you will only have the Bentley S1 from 1956 to console you on the drive home. What a lovely way the car drives, too. And on the way home, you’ll notice that the old, all-original GM transmission isn’t finding third as it should. And for some reason the straight six is running hotter than normal.
No matter. You’ll take a look under the hood when you get back. You’ll make it right. Doesn’t your Bentley deserve it? Don’t you deserve it?