Renault 4 Rail Tales
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by Peter Gumbrell, 6 December 2003
San Sebastián/Donostia - Lisbon
I was awoken Saturday morning by the sound of the cathedral bells, which tolled directly opposite the family apartment in which I was staying. I would have flung open the shutters and sung to the world joyously, Julie Andrews-style, had it not been for the mild after-effects of the previous night's alcoholic intake. Breakfast was served, and having watched the child playing with Luis's many Renault 4 models on the carpet, satisfying myself that appreciation of this car was set to continue with the next generation, we headed out to meet Asier for coffee.
We passed Luis's car, parked in a nearby street (above and below); another red Renault 4 to rival Asier's. He had been a star in putting me up for the night, but I couldn't stay any longer since I was already running a day behind my original schedule. Although there was no absolute plan for my travels, I had a rough idea of where I wanted to go, working my way across northern Spain and into Portugal, eventually reaching Lisbon where I would meet João and Fernando.
We headed back to the rail station, where I was to discover that I would have to take some short cuts in order to reach João and Fernando, forgoing my voyage through northern Spain altogether. They were set to leave a few days later in their Renault 4s, to meet up with Asier and Luis on one of their get-togethers. I was invited to join them, but with the meeting being located in Soria, northern Spain, it would be too far away from where I expected to be on my travels at that stage, and an awkward detour. Whichever way I tried to work things out, it just didn't add up. So, I had to reach Lisbon as soon as possible, before they left, after which I could settle back into my original routine.
On the way to the station we stopped for another set of photographs, in front of a pretty fountain in the gardens nearby. The resulting images would feature the three of us in some rather strange, almost homo-erotic poses, although this was purely accidental! I had rarely ever been completely happy with any photos that featured myself, but one particular picture in this set would be unforgiven, because it made me look like an unlikely gay Clint Eastwood (below).
It was time to say our goodbyes, and although I had been in San Sebastián for less than twenty-four hours, with all the places I had been whisked around to and the many things I had seen, it seemed like I'd spent a short holiday there. Asier and Luis had given me a comprehensive tour of not just the city but the whole region, and had been perfect hosts. My aged diesel train rolled in and I bid farewell to two new long-distance friends, as I headed off towards Salamanca in the west of Spain.
A host of complications involving the lousy Spanish rail network meant that my journey westwards to Portugal reached no further than Salamanca, before I had to do a U-turn and retreat eastwards to Madrid. From there, another turn-around to Lisbon, via just about the worst train journey I had ever experienced: an overnight sleeper service that provided the most uncomfortable night of no rest in my life. The eleven-hour ride and the one hour of semi-sleep that I had been fortunate to acquire on board left me completely drained by the time I reached Lisbon on Monday morning, and I spent much of the day sleeping on board other trains so that I could stay awake for my meeting with João and Fernando in the evening.
From Santa Apolónia station in the capital, I rang Fernando, and he came to collect me in his pride and joy: the red Renault 4 that he had wanted to own so dearly for many years. Virtually all the Renault 4s I had seen in Portugal were white. They were everywhere, though always a bit bruised and battered. To have a red one was very rare, since with the relentless heat in this part of the world most models were manufactured or imported in light colours in order to deflect the sunshine. Any small measure to reduce the scorching temperatures inside the vehicles was worthwhile. It was the evening when I met Fernando, and we were soon joined by João, who followed along in his own white R4. They drove me down to a snazzy restaurant by the River Tagus overlooking the fantastic suspension bridge, which was one of Lisbon's major landmarks. As dusk fell, it was illuminated and the river sparkled with its reflections.
I certainly hadn't expected any special treatment, but my companions were determined to offer the best hospitality, and the meal was on them. The discussion inevitably involved many intricate details of the Renault 4 and its multitude of merits, as we sketched crazily like children on our place mats and compared our R4 masterpieces. It was strange to contemplate our sole reason for gathering now was that more than four decades earlier, somebody had also sat sketching images which, largely as a result of budget constraints, had then evolved into a most bizarre little vehicle. For this reason more than any other, it had won the hearts of so many people, and would against all expectations go on to become one of the biggest selling cars of all time, serving the needs of millions in every corner of the globe. The designers could never have predicted that around forty-five years later, people would be meeting up across the world and sitting in restaurants discussing their original concept.
Fernando and João were chauffering me around, and they next took me to a bar up the hill in the trendy Bairro Alto district, where we stood in the alleys outside downing a few beers. Being a Monday, the streets were comparitively quiet with no signs of the bustling nightlife for which the area was renowned. Several beers later, I was returned to my hostel, where we agreed to meet again the following night.
The next evening, I scribbled a set of postcards for the people back home, and pulled on my Renault 4 t-shirt in preparation for our second meeting. My companions arrived and we set off in the R4 around the cobbled streets of the capital. The car's suspension and high ground clearance was perfectly suited to the environment, as we bounced up and down and screeched up steep hills under the command of João's undaunted driving style. We found another bar with some mellow grooves and funky sounds playing inside, and spent the balmy night outside by João's R4, musing over more of its many merits (below). He insisted that I get inside, even drive it, but I thought this was perhaps an unwise move considering the alcohol I had consumed.
As extra reward for my efforts to meet with two of the world's greatest R4 enthusiasts, I was presented with a t-shirt from their Portuguese club meeting earlier in the year, and some other goodies. The two get-togethers both here and in San Sebastián had injected streaks of diversionary entertainment into my travels, and I was glad to have included them in my plans. With a good deal more careful planning and arranging, I could have scheduled meetings with many other R4 owners around the countries I was visiting, and this would certainly be a consideration for any future trips.
Fernando's car was parked around the corner (below), so we used and abused each of the Renaults as convenient, oversized beer mats and annexed bar tables well into the small hours, by which time we were all tired and facing a long day ahead. Thankfully, I was the only one not having to go to work.
The Renault 4 in the modern world would often be regarded as an oddity of a bygone era, but those people who elected to own one tended to think differently, and would revel in the alternative lifestyle and numerous rewards that the car offered. I had finally been able to confirm the physical existence of two of the car's greatest fans. With the Renault 4 side of my travelling affairs over, it would now be back to normality and my original schedule, although I was sure to spot many more of the cars throughout the trip.
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