Taking Bob to Germany - August 2001

This is an edited and updated version of the article published in Issue 62 (Winter 2001/2) of the Rover SD1 Club Magazine.

Five reasons for taking your Rover SD1 to Germany.

Map of the area

Way back in the summer of 1992, my dad completed his second  military tour of Germany at RAF Laarbruch, close to the Dutch border.  We spent five fantastic years there and had numerous holidays dragging a six berth caravan around Europe in a Peugeot 504 Family Estate (anyone remember those?).  Laarbruch closed as a military base in 1999 when the Harriers left, but re-opened in May 2003 as an emerging regional airport served by RyanAir and VBird budget airlines. 

I was having recurring thoughts of returning to Germany for a visit.  "Wouldn't it be great", I asked my family, "to return to Germany and see what's changed since we left all those years ago?"  Now I'll come clean right from the start.  Taking the SD1 was not my preferred method of travel.  You see Bob, bless his little V8, is not as young as he used to be and I was concerned for his health.  Actually that's a lie.  Even though I had free European Breakdown Cover as part of my insurance, I was absolutely convinced that the car would pack up and die the very moment that we drove off the ferry.  Indeed, the very day that I decided we'd risk it and use Bob abroad, the speedometer stopped working.  This, I deduced, was not a good sign.

In the end, only my dad and I were able to take the trip.  We decided to take the Harwich - Hoek Van Holland ferry crossing route , staying in Colchester the night before as we had to be at the terminal by 9.30am the following day.  It isn't the shortest route but the three hour crossing was very smooth in our twin-hull, jet powered and up to the minute Stenna Line ferry.  It meant less continental driving for me too, as Laarbruch was a mere two hour blast down the Dutch and German motorways.

I found out, when trying to book our rooms, that the airbase was being used for the German equivalent of Glastonbury.  The rather appallingly named "Bizarre Festival" meant that 40,000 revellers had decended upon the region that weekend too.  One afternoon, after lunch in Weeze (the town where we used to live), we decided to take the scenic route back to our hotel in Kevelaer past the airbase.  Dad was driving Bob and I was in the passenger seat taking photos and making good use of the camcorder.  Dad mentioned that there was a red Audi behind us.  It was driving right up to the bumper then falling back.  We turned off down another road, but the Audi was still following us.  Suddenly, we spied a marked German Police car "making good progress" a few cars behind us.  Before we could say "achtung", there was a lollipop on the bonnet and the officers were gesturing us to pull over.  German police, you see, pull up alongside you frantically waving a lollipop baton, rather than slipping in behind you flashing their headlights, like the British do.  Or so I've been told...

By now, I'm getting a little concerned, especially as I notice that the Audi has also pulled up behind us.  Thinking that they've pulled us over for some kind of road rage incident, I'm about to do my "indignant Brit abroad" routine, when I realise that the Audi occupants are wearing holstered pistols under their jackets.  They were undercover policemen.  After thoroughly searching Bob from top to bottom, including my trusty AA Breakdown bag, they tell us that someone had reported some Englishmen in a red Rover selling counterfeit tickets to the rock concert being held on the base.  The undercover guys had been tailgating us so closely as they'd been trying to read the badge plinth.  Well at least now the local constabulary know what a Rover SD1 looks like!

And then, the following day, dad managed to reverse into another parked car in a completely empty car-park in the middle of Weeze town.  I learnt from him that the skill was in managing to hit the car at all given all the fresh air getting in the way.  Still it meant I could buy a new rear bumper I had been promising Bob for about five years.

The trip home was, thankfully, uneventful.  Bob, to his credit, lost no oil or water and ran beautifully throughout the 800 mile trip.  As a bonus, I was able to cover the whole trip on autogas, saving a small fortune into the bargain.  And now I know that there is nothing to fear from holidaying abroad in an SD1.  Even if it is 19 years old and with over 200,000 miles on the clock, I can guarantee to you that your SD1 will not break down.  And if that isn't incentive enough for you to be planning your summer jaunt right now, here are my Top Five Reasons for traveling to Europe in an SD1:

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