Rusty bodies on line as Shitbox Rally raises $1.5m

JUST as you’re reading this what remains of the 250 “shitbox” cars are struggling in after nearly 4000km of red sand, red snakes and red skin.

The V8 Hotel’s Morris Minor room.

JUST as you’re reading this what remains of the 250 “shitbox” cars that left Perth last Saturday are struggling into our northernmost capital after nearly 4000km of red sand, red snakes and red skin.

Of course, you’d know all this in fine detail because you have been following the lack of progress of the ­official Weekend Australian Motoring Team in the 2014 Shitbox Rally on The Australian’s website.

The 500 shitboxers have faced up to the extreme challenges that only the physically and emotionally devastating conditions in the heart of Australia can throw up. (And there was a lot of throwing up, particularly after one memorable night at Marble Bar’s Iron Clad Hotel.) We have taken on extreme challenges, such as the Meekatharra Skimpies, the Where’s Wally dress-up theme party in Broome and relaxing by the crocodile-infested Fitzroy River.

Look, I know there are people who have done it tougher than us. Burke and Wills come to mind. But did Bob and Johnny have to sleep in a swag? No, they had tents, assistants and imported camels. They weren’t camping. They were glamping. Did they have dropouts on their sat phones while trying to short Rio while hundreds of intoxicated (intoxicated with the beauty of the outback) fools dressed in red and white did their best to be a Wally? Did their pinot grigio taste slightly off after surviving 45C heat and corrugated roads in the back of a 10-year-old Ford ute?

Readers, you know the truth. We gave our all, put our bodies on the line, never took a backward step, looked the enemy in the eye and never flinched to raise more than $1.5 million for the Cancer Council.

Anyway, that’s over and we are off to the Swabian car metropolis of Stuttgart for a bit of R & R and reporting, to bring some sunshine (of which I had more than enough last week) into your lives. I know all large organisations (except the Executive Lifestyle section of The Weekend Australian) are ultimately degrading, but that’s why Phil, Stephen, Jeremy, Fred and I have so much fun. But it’s not for us. It’s all for you.

You can’t say you are a true metal head unless you have spent a few nights at the charming V8 Hotel near Swabia’s downtown Boblingen. Now it’s true that Germany and Austria didn’t come out of the last big show all that well. But they have given us Porsche and Mercedes, both of which have serious museums in Stuttgart. And they gave us the Graf Zeppelin and the Hindenburg. Pay attention, you’ll get the point.

After the zeppelin business went down, well, like a lead balloon, their airport was a non-core asset. It didn’t take long for some smart Swabian entrepreneur (or Unternehmer, as we say around here) to make the terminal and control tower into a hotel. But not just any hotel.

As the manager says: “In our theme-based rooms you will realise your dreams. Spend the night under the stars in the drive-in cinema (hotel room), at the gas station in a converted VW Beetle, in the garage or the car wash. What fantasies could you and someone special act out in the Morris Minor bedroom?”

As usual you only have to say the words Weekend Australian and the car wash room is yours for $250.

After the V8 Hotel pop down to the Alcatraz Hotel in the heart of Kaiserslautern. Mention our name for a single or double cell room for less than $100. Don’t worry about security: all the windows have bars.

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