Argentine Adventure: From the cockpit on the 2008 Mil Millas
December 2008

Argentine Adventure: From the cockpit on the 2008 Mil Millas

By Simon Kidston

Today's story actually comes to you from 37,000 feet, from where your correspondent is peeking out of the window of a British Airways 747 at wisps of cloud gently blowing over the South American rain forests far below, reminiscing about the past few days spent enjoying some of the best roads and hospitality that the continent has to offer whilst getting to know some of its most important car collectors. As jobs go, it probably beats managing a hedge fund, at least this week.

The excuse- sorry, justification- for travelling 8,000 miles across the Atlantic for such a motoring feast is Argentina's Mil Millas (thousand miles, or mille miglia) rally, a rather more relaxed interpretation of its Italian namesake. This being South America, life is taken at a somewhat different pace to elsewhere so those thousand miles shouldn't be measured too literally: the quality of the scenery, menus and company were more pressing concerns than enduring a punishing schedule in pursuit of a soon-forgotten trophy. That being said, there was a timed regularity element to the event which some local crews have mastered almost to an art form: the first three teams were separated, after two days of driving and dozens of timed controls, by just a few hundredths of one second in total from a perfect score.

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Left: Ex-Brooklands Straker Squire far from home
Right: Little or large, everyone’s welcome

Needless to say, your author's team was not one of those in question. I was paired with veteran Lamborghini factory test driver and old friend Valentino Balboni, who celebrated 40 years with the Sant'Agata firm last April, and we had been generously loaned an immaculate Lamborghini 400GT of 1967 vintage by Buenos Aires-based collector and Argentine Mitsubishi importer Claudio Scalise. I must confess that despite many miles in classic Lamborghinis, none of them dull, I had never undertaken a long trip in a 400GT so this was going to be a journey of discovery in more ways than one.

The Mil Millas is set in some of South America's most spectacular scenery, in the Patagonia region at the lower tip of Argentina. Getting there takes a bit of effort, with a 10-plus hour flight from Europe to Buenos Aires followed by another couple of hours from there to the grandly titled 'Aeropuerto Internacional' outside the small lakeside town of Bariloche, from where it's a 45 minute drive, but it doesn't take you long after arrival to conclude that it's worthwhile. Base camp for this upmarket adventure, and setting the tone as participants are billeted there for the four day duration, is a rambling hilltop hotel, the Llao Llao Resort. Combining'Leading Hotels of the World' luxury with a touch of The Shining isolation, it's a welcome change if you're used to the daily merry go-round of boarding school style accomodation on most historic events.

 Valentino Balboni   -
Left: “We’ll win:” Lamborghini factory test driver Valentino Balboni is confident of Italian victory...
Right: Although the Russians may have other ideas

Upon arrival, the first day is set aside for scrutineering and the distribution of rally essentials such as maps, road books, event passes, race numbers.and enough sponsors gifts to fill two large rucksacks (also included, of course). From their sheer volume I assumed our benefactors either didn't expect participants to have far to travel, or to have private means of doing so (which would explain the row of freshly arrived executive jets parked up at Bariloche's Aeropuerto). Gratitude turned to concern when amongst our gifts I discovered countless boxes of over-the-counter medicine and remedies for ailments I didn't even know existed, wondering whether this was a forewarning of local bio-hazards or a sign of national hypochondria. Fortunately neither: the main sponsor just happens to be a drug company. I couldn't help smiling at the paradox of an event which prudently serves nothing stronger than Coca Cola to drivers at lunch but gifted them all bottles of champagne and hard liquor before the start.

Primed and ready for action, it was time for Valentino and I to make our acquaintances with other participants and our Italian steed for the next few days. The extensive grounds around the hotel had been set aside as a closed paddock area, and dozens of teams, mechanics, staff and assorted friends and family were milling around in preparation for the drop of the starters flag. Since the first edition of the Mil Millas back in 1989 this has grown into a full scale event, with no fewer than191 teams entered this year. The choice of cars is somewhat eclectic, with organizers trying to give everyone a chance at least once: we encountered everything from a genuine Blower Bentley and a pair of lovely 6C 1750 Alfas (including the car sold by Gooding for a record price at Scottsdale last January) through a well-knownMaserati A6GCS, to myriad Pagoda Mercedes and 1970s Porsche 911s. Oh, and of the 19 Ferrari 365GTSs ever built, two were on this rally including the car sold for a record price by Bonhams at Monaco last May. There are plenty of up and coming collectors here.

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Left: You can see what I mean about timing equipment!
Right: Latin style: where else can you refuel with petrol named after a racing driver?

Waiting patiently in a corner of the assembly area sits our handsome Lamborghini 400GT, its rakish Franco Scaglione inspired lines perfectly complimented by a subtle deep blue livery. Valentino fires it up with the calm demeanour of business as usual and the four litre V12 settles down to a basso profondo idle as we check all the systems. No sooner are the levels and temperatures up to normal than we're being ushered by stewards up to a noisy starting ramp where cheerful announcer Hugo Semperena (editor of the country's Ruedas Clasicas car magazine) proclaims our names to great fanfare, cameras flash and patrician event president Emilio Dumais drops the Argentine flag. L'avventura has begun.

Valentino is driving and I settle down to navigating duties: mastering the directions in the road book isn't difficult (they give you an English version too) but I've resolved that we'll leave glory in the regularity stakes to others, especially having glimpsed some of the timing hardware which Argentine teams have attached to their dashboards: they probably have more computing power than the original Space Shuttle. We, on the other hand, have a speedometer which reads in miles (the roadbook is in km) and old wind-up wristwatches.

 

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Left: Cars rest whilst owners lunch
Right: Event winner Claudio Scalise in his '31 Alfa Romeo

Our first day sees the convoy winding its way north under foreboding clouds past vast lakes and up into the mountains towards neighbouring Chile. The pace is brisk and I'm soon reminded that a) old cars weren't meant for very tall people and b) the driver has a steering wheel to hold; the passenger just needs to make do. We're soon in the groove and when it starts to rain, Valentino simply comments: "And now we need feet like feathers" and guides the 400GT swiftly over the wet, twisty passes without breaking a sweat or, more importantly, grip.

We're soon at the Chilean border where the military uniforms worn by the guards are clearly inspired by the fashion seasons of 1939-1945 and don't encourage you to test their sense of humour. Nonetheless everything has been arranged in advance of our passage and the convoy is swiftly ushered through, making its way along noticeably bumpier roads now skirting snow capped peaks. Reflecting that we're probably just doubled the number of Lamborghinis in the country, Valentino observes that in his 40 years at the factory he never expected to one day find himself driving one in Chile.

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Left: The 400GT went like a train, helped by plenty of 'Fangio XXI'....
Right: .. whilst its pilota remained cool as a cucumber

Lunch awaits at a grand, secluded hotel before we begin the trip back >to base, a total of some 400km for our first day's driving. The cars are getting more spread out but remarkably few appear to be having any problems. The pace of some is surprising: the Blower Bentley seems to leave smaller cars shuddering in its wake, a diminutive Amilcar CGSS looks barely large enough to fit one person, let alone two, yet pushes on fearlessly with its occupants huddled together, and a Group 4 spec Lancia Stratos, complete withmore lights than a Christmas tree, looks and sounds superb as it tackles the twisty stages.

Refreshed after what is billed as 'happy hour' (although it lasts for three), a five star dinner and a good night's sleep, the next day's route takes teams north east across vast plains overlooked in the distance by rocky hills: the set of a Spaghetti Western comes to mind. The road follows the contours of a wide river and, as clouds gave way to sun, our steely eyed Italian is able to let our charge have its head. Latin speedometers appear to have been calibrated with impressing female passengers rather than scientific accuracy in mind, but it's remarkable just what rapid progress this 41 year-old makes across open ground (the co-pilota's code of silence precludes specifics).

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Left: Pit-stop pampering for the tenacious Amilcar
Right: All roads lead to Bariloche

Dawn breaks on our last day and, suitably fed and rested, crews prepare to travel the final 250km to the chequered flag with the leading teams still separated by the tiniest of margins. Valentino, somewhat to my surprise as I wouldn't normally associate a Lamborghini driver with the restraint necessary to do well in regularity trials, informs me that coming last "would not be good for the honour of Lamborghini" followed by the casual observation that "actually some co-drivers are quite skilled at this".

We're rewarded with brilliant sunshine and soaring temperatures as we head south through a dramatic landscape which combines the best of what we've experienced so far with swooping lakeside roads giving way to flat, wide expanses before climbing up into the hills. I've had a quiet word with a fellow team who seem quite expert to learn more about this mysterious regularity business and they're rather surprised when they learn that we've used this intelligence to leap frog them on the leader board- I use the term loosely as this means climbing from 137th to 134th.

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Left: High plains drifter: Lancia Stratos gets running repairs
Right: A hero's welcome awaited teams at the finish

Another fine lunch under our belts, which we rush given our newly discovered appetite for the joys of finely timed regularity competition, and we're headed towards the finish in the centre of Bariloche for a welcome by what seems like the entire town. Children are waving flags, older ladies and gentlemen are pointing out the cars to each other with smiles of admiration, and everyone seems genuinely happy to see us: the warmth of the crowd reminds me of the reception on the Italian Mille Miglia. After what feels like 1,000 miles and as many meals, we drive up on to the podium and give our best Spanish greetings, fearful that the crowd will be disappointed to learn that this lovely Argentine registered Lamborghini is actually driven by gringos. And the overall winner is well, unsurprisingly not us, but infact our friend Claudio Scalise driving his lovely black 1931 Alfa Romeo 6C 1750 Spyder- neither he nor the car missed a beat, which provided an excuse for another night of celebration.

It's been a great experience and one I'd recommend to anyone who loves old cars and has a sense of adventure. You can take the regularity part as seriously (or not) as you like, but you can't fail to enjoy the landscapes, great roads with barely any traffic and superb hospitality. And if you do happen to be good at regularity,Valentino Balboni would like to hear from you.