I hate garage queens. As the MotorPunk manifesto states: Cars are to be driven. Yet you might be forgiven for imagining Norway to be a snow-bound wilderness where classics gets squirreled away from the worst of mother nature. Not so.

On a recent trip to Stokke, Norway, I bumped into the local classic car club who were intent on putting their cars to good use. It amazes me how many classic cars there are in Norway, a land famous for crippling taxes, draconian driving laws and lousy beer. Cars over 25 years old are eligible for low import and road tax and (sensible hat on) can be a decent investment too.

In the sunshine sat an eclectic mix of classics Brits and Frenchies, plus some stunning American metal that you heard before you saw (sorry folks, no video this time). A particular favourite was the Renault Caravalle cabriolet, powered by an 1100cc straight 4 that wouldn’t trouble even Norways miniscule speed limits. But what a car for a waft! Also worthy of note was a classic Shadow, a baby blue Chevrolet with spotless chrome, a Mercury the size of it’s namesake planet and of course our friend Bjorn’s thunderous Corvette. We hope to get more pictures the next time we see the boys and girls of Stokke and on the roads again, not under a dustsheet, because cars are to be driven.

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