Type 7

Back in the Philippines, the cars of the Tour de Cebu are disbanding back to their homes, regaining strength for next year’s return. Our own car, a Porsche 356C let to us by Jay Aldeguer, is undoubtedly undergoing a post-rally recovery. Though it survived the 1000km largely unscathed, a cracked Nardi steering wheel rim and a few worn out driveshaft nuts were the inevitable casualties of driving hard 10 hour days in this 60 year old sports car.

I like to think I’m no stranger to a long drive in an old vehicle, but all previous experience had been child’s play compared with muscling through a haze of scooters and overloaded work trucks in the remote hills of Negros Island, Philippines. As a venue for a long distance rally, nothing compares to it for sheer sensory overload.

I don’t mind admitting that taking part in this event initially intimidated me. I’d never been to South East Asia, much less driven there. Engaging with the basic tourist experience never really appealed but going with an invitation to discover the heart of a small but incredibly passionate culture of classic cars was something I didn’t dare pass up. It’s a crowd that doesn’t get anywhere near the international recognition it deserves, as I would soon come to find.

The Tour de Cebu itself is a regularity event, a competition focused more on navigational accuracy and the ability to maintain an average speed than it is an outright time trial. For the best of the 50+ entrants, this can get incredibly competitive, though it’s a much more casual affair for many others. I can reveal now that the distraction of taking these photos put the Type 7 356 firmly in last place. Really though, it’s hard to come out of an experience like that and feel we’d lost anything at all.

When the Porsche 356C we drove first arrived at the start line it was in near-perfect condition, a fact that weighed heavily on me as I got to know the chaotic driving style of Dumaguete City, the start point for our 1000km journey together. “Get used to using your horn and seize the gaps when you see them” was the advice people kept repeating, and before I knew it we were handed a set keys, a book of pace notes and a 1 minute countdown.

When you finally master it, the drive becomes incredibly rewarding. No matter what you throw it into, be it crests in the road, adverse camber, rapid turns, sudden surface changes or last second obstacles, nothing comes close to unsettling the chassis. So long as you have the engine in the power band too, the car roars through traffic without a hint of stumble or hesitation from those Zenith carburettors. It’s a car that you must meet patiently on its own terms, but once you do, there’s little else that beats it in that environment.

Among the 50+ participants in the rally there must have been more than a dozen other Porsches. Two more 356s started alongside ours and several 914s which put up a solid fight in the mountain roads. The 911 count was obviously well represented too, with everything from an early S to much rowdier G bodies peppered all over the grid.

Our host Jay was among the organisers for the whole event and has been putting these rallies on now for more than 10 years. In that time, the Tour de Cebu has expanded to become one of the most impressive and well thought out car events in all of Asia, attracting drivers from all over the Philippine archipelago and beyond.

In my many years attending (mostly European) car events, I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed quite the same level of infectious passion as I had with this crowd. The Philippine classic car community is small, but utterly devoted. Everybody knows everyone and everybody looks out for one another.

I’d heard plenty about Philippine hospitality before travelling there, most of which I’d honestly taken with a pinch of salt, a cynicism that I’m humbled to say proved entirely unfounded. The generosity and acceptance with which we were welcomed into this tight circle of enthusiasts was so disarming, it’s probably the one memory from this entire experience that will stick with me the longest, far more than any one moment powering our incredible 356C through the varied tropical landscapes of Negros Island.

Everywhere we went, crowds of children and their parents lined the streets to wave us in, screaming out for more noise and more speed from every car that passed through. Every town we stopped in came with crowds of locals lining up to take pictures and get up close with the cars, with not a single owner being too precious to stop them.

My flights home spanned nearly 24 hours, an tough journey under any circumstances. This time however, my mind spent the time swimming in a thousand incredible memories made in these short few days, all owed to a community that the rest of the car world will have a near-impossible time matching for however many years remain to me.