One Bristol enthusiast liked the company so much he bought the famous Kensington showroom frontage – plus examples of its first and last cars. Robert Coucher drives the 400 and Fighter
Photography Barry Hayden
In the early 1990s, I lived in Portsmouth and used to commute up to London with a chum on a regular basis,’ says Bristol enthusiast Neil Clifford. ‘Naturally we’d get stuck in traffic, often in Kensington, so I’d pull over and we’d go and gaze through the glass and into the Bristol Showroom on the corner of Kensington High Street, number 370. And yes, that’s the same “Bristol Cars” sign you see on my car hangar that used to adorn the showroom frontage, but I’ll come to that… ‘The proprietor, Anthony Crook – I always enjoyed his name badge “A Crook” – knew we were just a bunch of young lads with no money, but he started to invite us in and show us around the cars. He’d tell us about his time as a Spitfire pilot, as well as racing with Stirling Moss back in the 1950s. A real gentleman. I kept telling him that one day I’d come in and buy a Bristol.’
Neil smiles. ‘Having been car mad since a child, I devoured all the car magazines and really enjoyed LJK Setright and his fascination with Bristols. The way he wrote about them intrigued me.’
Here’s an example: ‘The idea has always been to produce a car of exceptional equilibrium. Unquestionably a driver’s car (itself a matter of balance), it must inspire the faith of its passengers; a gentleman’s car, it must not offend those who are not gentlemen; a seriously fast car, it must be intrinsically safe; an engineer’s car, it must not be wanting in art and the refinement of luxury. In all its qualities it must be an exercise in complementaries, not in compromises.’
Neil continues: ‘By 2008 my business was doing well and I had some money, so I went into the showroom and told Tony that I’d finally arrived to actually buy a car. He sold me a turbocharged Brigand, painted Air Force Blue. I loved the car and owned it for seven years. It looked like a big Austin and no-one really knew what it was or how fast it was. That great big single turbo took a moment to spool up… then wallop!’
BEFORE WORLD WAR TWO, Frazer Nash motor cars were the preferred choice of sporting young men who wanted to go racing. Frazer Nash went bust in 1927 and was taken over by AFN Ltd, run by Harold Aldington, who was also the UK agent for BMW, selling the excellent 328 of the time as a Frazer Nash BMW. Aldington was also a direc
