TEAM ADVENTURE
Team PC celebrate Theo Gillam’s life in cars and cooked meat with some lovely old bangers
WORDS TEAM PC PHOTOGRAPHY MATT HOWELL AND PC TEAM
It’s never easy to say farewell to a well-loved friend and colleague, but Team PC wanted to make sure that Theodore J. Gillam was given the kind of celebration he deserved. Our annual ‘Beaulieu or Bust’ feature this year would include his final classic car, his favourite food and his most beloved event. It would also include the PC team and the love of his life; wife Sarah. The route was planned, the frying pan was hot and the wristbands for Beaulieu were ready to be dished out. Time for one last road trip with our good friend Theo.
DANNY HOPKINS
The Top-Downist
MAZDA MX-5 NB
I jumped into my, slightly shoddy, MX-5 NB with the certain knowledge that our dearly departed chum Theo would have enjoyed seeing me in such a car while secretly working out which diesel engine he could fit in it. Compression ignition was Theo’s thing, he slid a B-Series diesel into his MGB simply because he approved of the technology, so I am sure my MX-5 would have been on his list of potential oil burners.
I have shared many road trips and many cars with the man. Twenty-five years on from our first meeting, this trip would mark a kind of final mission. A sad/joyful run full of happy memories. As usual the blast to the south was a combination of M25 hold ups and B-road escape routes as I turned away from the motorway network and headed into the wilderness of Hampshire. It felt right to get away from the crowds as I pointed the Mazda’s nose towards Richard Skinner’s place on the outskirts of the New Forest.
The last time any of us saw Theo, at his best, was in May, at the Spring Autojumble. He and his wife Sarah joined us on the PC autojumble stand and, as ever, we sat and talked magnificent nonsense. He was on great form, holding court with hilarity and humility, manning the stand and keeping everyone amused and entertained. Beaulieu brings out the best in people and Theo loved it. The autojumble was his happy place, as it is for so many of us. My daughters joined us that weekend too, and, just as they used to, when he came to stay with us, asked if I couldn’t get Theo a better freelance rate of pay so he might be able to afford long trousers. ‘Long trousers are a waste of material,’ he retorted ‘I like to air my knees.’ It was a great weekend, full of fun, as it always was around Theo.
Richard has known Theo even longer than I, so meeting up with everyone including Clive, James, Matt and Theo’s wife Sarah, at Richard’s house felt correct. Our destination would be Beaulieu, our journey would celebrate some of Theo’s loves and joyful obsessions. Diesels, car people, interesting engineering, sausages, puns and, of course, Beaulieu.
My first Beaulieu with Theo was in 2000, when I had just joined the magazine. He was there with his best mate Roger (also sadly now departed) and I remember wandering around with them, pointing and laughing and being gently encouraged to buy things I didn’t need. No better way to spend time with anyone really, but especially with that man.
We ate sausage sandwiches that day in 2000, a recurring theme, and in accordance with Theo’s wishes, when I planned the route of our jaunt, sausages became a central focus.
Theo’s last car, a Lanchester LD10, prepared by Clive, would lead our charge to sausage heaven from Richard’s yard, through the Forest Theo loved so much. My research had told me, the finest sausage sandwich available would be at the Forest Deli in Sway.
Sarah and Clive sat up front in the Lanchester and we sauntered off, avoiding wild horses, getting a bit lost and holding up traffic, to Sway where we met Ben Field, another alumni from the Theo college of friendship. We set a place at the table for Theo, told a few sausage jokes, but nothing like as good as the ones Theo used to tell… they were absolute bangers.
After sausages we enjoyed another forest dash, at a steady 30mph, to the coast followed by further road-burning excesses as we made haste to Beaulieu Road station for a car park gathering with readers. The evening was a joyful one, which ended with a sunset befitting a legendary day, one in which Theo was ever present in our thoughts, hearts and puns.
MATT TOMKINS
The Dieselist
LAND ROVER NINETY
The steady thrum of a diesel engine will always bring one man to my mind. As we made our way through the New Forest, my own propulsion was via the 2.5 Turbo diesel engine in my Land Rover Ninety, a car that Theo and I spent some time beneath the bonnet of at the IAJ, 12 months previously. There, before his devastating diagnosis, he’d taught me diesel. We’d worked our way round various vacuum pipes and I’d learned their importance. Thanks to Theo, the Ninety was running better than ever.
As we drew up outside the Forest Deli at Sway, the smell of sizzling sausages hung in the air. But before the bangers could be devoured, I slid beneath the rear of his Lanchester LD10 and deployed my best knot tying skills on the rearmost exhaust bracket, a bobbin having failed. An empty chair at our table brought a few lumps in throats, but also fond memories flowing forth. Sarah placed Theo’s photograph in front of his steaming sausage cob, and we raised a cup of tea.
From Sway, we heaved our bulging stomachs back into our cars and headed for the coast. Lepe beach overlooks the Isle of Wight, which feels so close you could swim to it.
The Lanchester stood proud as friends of Theo and Sarah joined us, delighted to see his final purchase. The little car had done well – thanks, of course, to Clive’s efforts in resurrecting it.
Our road run continued towards Beaulieu Road Station, where Theo lived with his mum, in a railway cottage, for much of his early life, before we retired to the hallowed fields of the Beaulieu Autojumble itself, which Theo loved so much.
It’s testament to the spirit of the event that the International Autojumble, survives. Parts and knowledge can now be exchanged from the comfort of one’s living room, but Beaulieu is alive and well.
Among the traders and regular buyers who stopped by the PC stand to say hello was one Beaulieu stalwart who had been a student of Theo’s at technical college. Neither knew of each other’s devotion to the autojumble until both bunked off college one year to visit and bumped headlong into each other.
Beaulieu has a habit of getting under your skin. This was even more obvious when, on the jumble Saturday, I had the great pleasure of judging the best stall. I awarded the 2024 prize to a small trade stand manned by Alan Goodyear and his daughter Sarah. Alan has been there with a stall at all but the first International Autojumble and even the year after COVID, when Alan was unable to attend, he insisted that Sarah go in his place to ensure the space was not left empty. To me, this densely packed and clearly carefully curated collection of everything from a clarinet to a carburettor, chrome grilles to taillights perfectly represented, in one tiny package, what this fantastic event is all about. Long may it continue.
JAMES WALSHE
The Diesel Camperist
CITROËN BERLINGO
The ‘C’ word is never far from our lives, is it? Our unutterable fury at losing Theo is alleviated only slightly when we remember how funny he was – right up to the end. Having stated that he’d like wife Sarah and the PC team to take his newly purchased Lanchester on a road trip. We sat in his room at the hospice and discussed possible destinations. ‘Beaulieu, of course!’ he declared before dozing off. Minutes later, he was awake again. ‘Sausages!’ he continued with a quite serious frown. ‘Pork sausage!’ A finger was waggled in my direction.
‘None of that fancy stuff.’
With Clive driving and Sarah as his co-pilot, I followed behind the Lanchester and the PC team in my diesel-powered Berlingo – the car in which we frequented the Hovercraft Museum in Lee-on-the-Solent on a couple of occasions. To me, a friend who appreciates both diesel Berlingo and hovercraft is a friend indeed.
After our little classic meet on Beaulieu Road, my personal highlight came late afternoon.
This was a day of dramatic skies – the blue expanse above smothered by the occasional vast curtain of ferocious raincloud that, one after another, swept across the heathland landscape. With Theo’s Lanchester scampering onwards a short distance ahead of me, a colossal shaft of sunlight triggered a giant rainbow. It just happened to coincide with the uplifting break in the middle of Pink Floyd’s Take It Back (at two mins fifty secs, if you’ve got it handy).
Colleagues may gently mock… but the original Berlingo makes a brilliant little sleeping pod. Indeed, while ‘mini camper’ is pushing it, there is an extraordinary amount of space inside a car based on the Citroën ZX/Peugeot 306. Equipped with a Camperize ‘boot jump’, which is a basic and compact hinged wooden arrangement that folds forward and down the length of the cabin, my homemade blinds are made from an old roll of plastic sheeting, cut to shape and fitted with screw-in suckers that stick neatly to the windows. Once configured to ‘sleeping mode’, there’s enough room to get changed inside and, enjoy a glass of wine and a film. With loads of oddments space for baguettes and bottle-shaped cubby holes, it really is as French as a car can be.
The Beaulieu International Autojumble is a unique chance for us to socialise with readers and fellow enthusiasts from across the classic car universe each year. Next morning, as always, we put out some chairs in front of the Practical Classics shed and stuck the kettle on – welcoming all who wished to grab a seat. Tales of items bought in the ’jumble and your project cars filled us with unbridled joy and this year, we were blessed with so many fond memories of Theo – for whom this event was a highlight of the year. It was also a reminder how the mag reaches all corners of the world.
Our mate Tibor – known for years simply as ‘Swiss Chocolate Man’ – turned up with the usual trolley full of treats, while a surprise visit from a Canadian called Michael was, for me, particularly satisfying. Last year, having flown into Los Angeles to drive a battered Rover SD1 3000-miles to Boston,
I discovered the car to be missing its wiper arms. Michael couriered us a spare pair from his home in Toronto.
His visit to Beaulieu gave me the chance to thank him in person. Moments like these, and so many others, reveal the true spirit of our hobby – and the essence of beautiful Beaulieu.
CLIVE JEFFERSON
The Lanchester Spannerist
LANCHESTER LD10
When our friend and colleague Theo sent me an advert for a Lanchester LD10, I knew it was serious. For this was the car that had eluded him for many years. As a teenager he and lifelong chum Roger had arrived with a trailer to collect one, only to be told that the vendor had changed his mind, and this had rankled ever since. Knowing that time was of the essence, I told Theo that if he wanted to buy the car then I’d go and collect it for him immediately and so found myself travelling to a barn in deepest Essex, then delivering it to a safe storage near Winchester.
The car was delightfully tatty but ran well, apart from a potentially disastrous fuel leak, a lack of charging and rather recalcitrant braking system. So, a few days later I set to and fettled it ready for a test run on which it performed admirably. Theo was sadly in a hospice by now and not well enough to drive the car, so I filmed the event and emailed him the result, which I know he enjoyed watching very much.
Unfortunately, the Lanchester’s exhaust system didn’t survive the road test, getting progressively louder as I drove on, so I took it to the PC workshop and put it on the ramp. I raided Tomkins’s castoff exhaust pile and knocked up a replacement one. The Lanchester was ready but despite all our efforts, Theo had the bare-faced cheek to leave us before he ever got to see it in the flesh. The car made a guest appearance at his funeral, but was then put in safe storage until the Sausage Run.
Departing my home in Lincolnshire at sparrows’ fart, I travelled down to Beaulieu and dropped off the PC shed, collected the Lanchester from storage and managed to arrive at the house of Richard Skinner, our Cadnam starting point, on time. Much to the amazement of all! The LD10 started readily and seemed eager for the off, which was encouraging as I was more than a bit nervous about the trip. I could imagine Theo asking with a big grin: ‘What could possibly go wrong?’
After a typically jovial photo session with the rest of the crew, Theo’s wife Sarah, photographer Matt Howell and I climbed aboard Alfred, as I’d christened him, and set off. It was now or never! After a slightly jerky start, partly a cold vehicle and partly me reacquainting myself with the vagaries of the Wilson pre-selector gearbox, we found ourselves bumbling down the A337 towards Lyndhurst, following the Mazda MX-5 of editor Hopkins. Suddenly he braked and turned right. It occurred to me that anticipation was going to be the key here, as the LD10’s cable braking system wasn’t quite as effective as the Mazda’s. Or most more modern vehicles for that matter!
A few turns later we were greeted by Danny approaching us from the opposite direction. ‘Sorry, I’ve got it wrong’ he said, as I made a mental note to buy him a map book for Christmas. While executing a three-point turn the car’s cabin filled with smoke. I shut the engine off and opened the bonnet. Thankfully it was only many years of accumulated dust and oily deposits burning off the now warm engine.
At this point Matt Howell decide to abandon ship for the frankly safer environment of the Tomkins Land Rover and I laughingly noticed the increase in performance. Alfred’s 1200cc engine clearly enjoying a lighter payload. We made swift progress through the lanes down to Sway and our lunch stop at The Forest Deli. Although Sarah and I had noticed that the car had been running better and better on the way down it was still a relief to draw up outside and switch off. Phase one completed, it was time to feed the inner man and a lively meal ensued with, as usual, much banter. Danny had chosen the café well, but Theo was still sorely missed. He’d have loved it.
Refuelled with bread, sausage, tea and cake we checked Alfred’s oil levels and then carried on in convoy down through the lanes to Lepe Beach. I felt that I was really getting to grips with the LD10 now and I was really impressed with its cornering ability and the fact that it was happiest cruising in top at an indicated 50mph, Sarah and I chatting easily as we trundled along discussing Theo. We both laughed and cried but it was all healthy, and part of the grieving process after all. Lepe Beach was an absolute delight, I could have happily pulled up a deck chair and sat there all afternoon. The views of the Isle of Wight are spectacular and because it was such a clear and bright day, we could see Portsmouth and the Spinnaker Tower in great detail. But before long it was time to head off again to a rendezvous with PC readers at the forest car park near Beaulieu Road station.
There then followed an hour or so of very pleasant car chat. Alfred was obviously the centre of attention, and clearly enjoying it too. All too quickly it was time to head off to Beaulieu and it was with a great sense of pride that we drove in through the gate and onto our Autojumble pitch that evening. Alfred the great had conquered all. Theo had chosen well.
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