I remember my Uncle Harry's car was like a lounge room. It had wide bench seats and you would move around inside it like you were in the Apollo Command Module on the way to the moon (no seat belts required). In the hot sun the vinyl seats would be ferociously hot and dangerous, so Uncle Harry and Aunt Agnes had a couple of scratchy beach towels in the back to lie over the seats to save the back of our legs. My Uncle always wore his collar buttoned, without a tie, even on the world's hottest day. We'd keep the windows down all the time and Uncle Harry didn't mind if you put your arms out in the slipstream. He was that kind of fellow.
Chauffeuring Uncle Harry in his 1966 Holden HR station wagon.
