Hoping fervently that my Imp engine wouldn't do likewise, we set off and immediately sat behind a three-car classic queue inexplicably wafting along an open, empty road at 32mph, a Porsche 911 at its head. We nipped past and headed on Hagerty's excellent route into the Cotswolds, following a determinedly-driven Morris Minor 1000, stopping at the ancient Rollright Stones (as once sung about by 60s/70s rock group Traffic), skirting Chipping Norton and pausing at Daylesford Farm, suppliers of comestible loveliness to the rural well-heeled.
By the time we got to Woodstock – the Oxfordshire one, obviously – we were running in company with a Vauxhall Chevette 2300 HS in front, a BMW 2002 behind and, further ahead, another rear-engined car in the form of a Fiat 600, clearly much speedier than standard despite looking rather meeker than the officially-quick Abarth versions. And finally, after 82.4 miles, we drove onto Bicester Heritage's runway to join the hundreds of other classic cars and a dozen or vintage aircraft. We parked by a 1950s RAC patrol motorcycle but, with engine intact, we didn't need the Fourth Emergency Service's expertise.
The rest of the day was spent soaking up the wonderful vintage variety that is Bicester Heritage, returning home with a litre of frighteningly expensive Faher two-stroke oil bought from Classic Oils to use in my Saab. It's supposed not to smoke, or at least not very much, so I thought it worth the experiment. The Classic Oils man uses it in his Berkeley and swears by it. I'll see if I agree after the Saab's next fill-up.