Time travel: driving a 1950 MG YT Tourer from Mumbai to UK

Hi, my name is Laal Pari. I’m a 1950 MG YT Tourer, and I’ve lived a really exciting life. 

What? You’ve never heard a car talk? Why? Haven’t you sat in an MG Astor? Aha! Anyway, not many of you may be aware, but I was actually designed and engineered during the Second World War by some really famous people. My type was initially known inside the company as the ‘one-and-a-quarter-litre saloon’ or by my codename, EX166.

Due to the close relationship between Morris and MG, I was built on the same platform and mechanical bits as the Morris Eight Series E, and interestingly, was designed by Syd Enever, of MGA and MGB fame, and engineered by the even more famous Sir Alec Issigonis (who later created the Mini). It’s because of Sir Alec that my front suspension is independent and has wishbones and coil springs – a thoroughly modern setup back then and one perfect for a sporty front end. And that’s not all; I even got a very sporty rack-and-pinion steering system. But enough about how I came to be, let’s talk about my adventures.

Also See: Travelling the world in a 1950 MG YT Tourer image gallery

First, let me tell you how I came to Ahmedabad. It all started, as many fairy tales do, with a young child. His name was Daman Thakore, and he was three years old. After watching and thoroughly enjoying the movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, his mother, Daksha, decided that the family should acquire a similar open-top car. So, I was purchased from Mumbai, and Daksha named me Laal Pari and told Daman bedtime stories in which I was a flying car. 

Of course, I can’t fly. But I could dream. And what I dreamt of most was driving along different types of roads, highways and small lanes all around the world. And all my dreams had little Daman behind the wheel. Whatever I dreamt of, he must have dreamt of as well. Or was it the other way around? Anyway, many years later, our dreams became a reality. Daman was turning 50, and he made a crazy plan to drive me all the way back to my birthplace in the UK! 

We left on Independence Day from Mumbai after much work was done on me by his dad and uncle. I was first shipped to Dubai, but our journey really took off from Iran. What a shock it was to see how enthusiastic and friendly the people were! Fuel in Iran was Rs 7 a litre, and it was above 40deg C, so my tyres got scorched. But the biggest challenge was the fuel quality. I just couldn’t digest it, so the running wasn’t smooth. The desert roads, though, were beautiful, and as Daman says, the terrain often reminded him of Leh and Ladakh. Must go there, too. 

Up next: Turkey, and here we could see much more of a European influence. By this time, we had already been on the road for a month and a half, and we had set ourselves into a pattern. We would cruise at around 50kph – that was all I was comfortable with – and set off every morning at 8am with the objective of covering 250-300km by 4pm. Then came the job of finding a hotel, doing some sightseeing and taking some pictures. The Thakores never made hotel bookings in advance; this would be done every day at around noon. While sitting inside my open cabin must have gotten uncomfortable for the Thakores (remember, I have no windows), we still managed to keep a fair rate of progress.  

From the large expanses of Iran and Turkey, the countryside closed in once we reached Europe. And instead of going the direct way via Poland and Hungary, Daman chose to drive through the picturesque Balkans – exotic lands like Albania, Macedonia and Croatia, with the sea on one side and the mountains on the other. It was the stuff of dreams!

It wasn’t all smooth sailing, especially in the cities with steep hills. Here, I often strained and struggled as my 50hp engine pushed against my one-tonne weight. At times, we had to let the passengers hop off. And then, in Croatia, on the steep climbs, my half axle just broke. It hurt. Daman then actually replaced it himself, getting directions over his phone.

Once in Europe, the stress eased up. With better fuel, smoother roads and more gradual inclines, the running was easy, and we picked up a bit of speed. But then my engine dropped a valve. This happened in Switzerland, of all places, and we had to replace it, valve guide gaskets and all. It was so expensive that it cost Daman more than the price of a new engine, he joked.

After that came France and the UK, and though they were relatively easy on me, Daman had a hard time. It rained, and it was cold. For the remaining 25 days. Compounding the problem, my wipers barely worked, my headlights were poor, and with my narrow tyres and drum brakes, keeping up with traffic became even more of a challenge. We were doing 30mph (48kph), and cars behind were coming up at 60 or 70. And then, to top it off, I only had tiny tail-lights that you couldn’t see from far off in the rain. 

On the 27th of October, we got on a ferry and saw the White Cliffs of Dover. I was back home, the country where I had been born. A strange kind of joy coursed through me. I felt elated. And so did the Thakores. We’d taken 72 days, but we were finally at Kimber House, the home of MG. The family had stayed in over 60 different places, from dormitories to B&Bs and palaces converted into hotels. And I, too, spent many nights parked out on the road. 

Some of it was tough going, and it was very fatiguing, but I was happy that I could actually carry Daman and family all the way from India to the UK. This is especially so if you consider that I stalled and had to be push-started when the Minister flagged us off in India. What a way to start a 14,000km journey! But it was just a bit of nerves. The trip, however, had a magical feel to it. And now, whenever I close my headlights, I dream of flying down these roads. So, kids, remember to dream.

Also adding to the charm is the rorty note of the engine. Only a 1.2, with twin, bottle-type SU carburettors, this engine runs with a fair amount of clatter from the valvetrain and cam, but growls nicely when you put your foot down and under load. Also contributing to the mechanical cacophony is plenty of gear whine – something most of us have forgotten today. The engine note is so different from what we normally hear nowadays that we are chased by dogs. Frequently. 

Because this car weighs a tonne and only has 50hp, it sort of gathers pace very leisurely. Make use of the gears and you can keep up in traffic. You need to be positive with the gearbox, however, and have to remember to keep the revs up when you shift. There’s no synchro on first and second, and that means shifting needs a firm hand, good timing and a push in exactly the right direction. The H pattern of the gear lever has sort of drifted off-centre over the years. Because of the low power-to-weight ratio, the YT also has short gearing, and this makes it difficult to cruise at a good speed, like 70 or 80kph, without the engine revving high. No wonder Daman had to keep the speed down.

What comes as a pleasant surprise is how well the car rides and takes bumps without flexing or bending too much. Reputed to have a solidly built chassis that can last forever, it also steers well; the independent front suspension, and rack and pinion steering make this easy. The rudimentary rear suspension, however, finds it difficult to keep up in corners, and then, there are the drum brakes from the 50s, which aren’t too bad if you are used to driving old Ambassadors. Would make for a fun open-top weekend car, regardless. It even gets practical door pockets and a comfortable rear bench.

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