Manor Park Classics is about ten minutes up the road from me, which means I’ve got no excuse. So this year I’m making a point of getting to as many open viewing days as I can.
Last Wednesday, I spent a couple of hours wandering around before their auction days on the Friday and Saturday.
I took a load of photos while I was there. The full set is in the gallery here: Manor Park Classics viewing day photo gallery.
Viewing days have a particular calm to them. It’s not the loud theatre of the auction process, it’s the quiet before it. More like a working showroom crossed with a museum where the exhibits might follow you home if you’re not careful. And because Manor Park has strong ties with Phoenix Classics, I can’t go five minutes without bumping into someone I know. I had a good catch-up with a few Phoenix faces and a chat with the staff who always seem happy to talk cars.
What I like most is the sheer variety. In one slow lap you can go from “that’s a tidy old thing” to “I didn’t even know any of those still existed” and then, inevitably, to “I’ll have that, thanks” (the same way I say it about a Tudor house with a massive barn of a garage in Cheshire I can’t afford). There’s nearly always something rare, something odd and something that presses a button you didn’t know you had.
The heavy hitters
I kept coming back to the E24 BMW 635. It’s one of those shapes that has aged beautifully, all long bonnet, shark-nose and low roofline. This one’s a UK Motorsport Edition in Nogaro Silver, believed to be one of 60, with plenty of paperwork and a recent refresh. The original TRX metrics have been binned for cross-spoke split rims on low-pros and it suits it - just a touch more modern without ruining the look.
Then there was the Mercedes-Benz 560 SEC, which is what happens when a company at the height of its powers decides to build a coupé without equal. Peak Bruno Sacco: huge, expensive-looking and completely unbothered. Gleaming under the lights in Nautic Blue with beige leather, it had clearly had serious money thrown at it to get it right.
And finally, the one that really got me was the E39 Alpina B10. Alpina have always nailed that blend of aggression and continent-crushing comfort. This one’s a rare five-speed with the numbered plaque and an attitude that starts a conversation wherever it goes.
The ones that got under my skin
There was also a lovely BMW 530i (E39) in Glacier Green with light silver-grey leather. That colour is late-90s optimism, like a brochure shot outside a business park where everyone’s smiling in a world of AOL CDs and Zip drives. The car looked nicely kept and factory standard, with just 57,000 miles showing - getting on for 100,000 fewer than on my own E39. I still think mine looks better in Topaz Blue, but the Glacier Green got me thinking.
The Mercedes 190 stopped me because it was just so right. Factory Light Ivory, Light Tan leather, an absurd number of stamped service entries and just under 80,000 miles. It had that “minter” feel, someone’s been quietly cherishing it for decades.
Speaking of colours, the BMW Z3 in Turquoise was a proper show-stopper. In photos you might think it’s novelty. In the metal it’s brilliant, then it doubles down with green leather and burr walnut. It’s wonderfully wrong in the best ’90s Germanic way.
And then came the proper bargain temptation: a 1994 Saab 900 SE Turbo three-door coupé, bright red with anthracite trim, that went on to sell for just £1,620. I can’t remember the last time I saw a tidy New Generation 900 in the wild. Despite GM’s best efforts to knock the edges off, Saab still managed to keep the quirkiness baked in.
There was also the sort of bargain temptation Manor Park is particularly good at serving up: the E46 BMW 330i, a JDM import with comprehensive history, showing just over 30,000 miles and wearing Alpine White. I can’t help wondering how many people would still do a rear-view double-take, half convinced it’s an unmarked police car. And look at those gingicators, the glorious orange front indicators, it took me a moment to work out why the front looked different.
Why I keep going back
It’s easy to treat auction houses like they’re only for buyers and bidders, but the viewing days are something else. It’s the calm before the noise: the cars lined up, people wandering, the odd conversation between strangers who clearly get it.
For me it’s also local and tied into Phoenix, which means it becomes part cars, part catch-up, part nosy wander. You leave with a few new stories, a few new favourites and the sense you’ve spent an afternoon in the right sort of company. I’ll be back at the next one.
