Every year for one day only my Land Rover becomes an ice cream van. I risk complicating my already rather serious hernia issues by hoofing a freezer into the back of the lorry, along with gazebos and all the other paraphernalia you need to cope with the unpredictable British summer.

I then drive down to my village green, park up and start flogging ice creams that Mrs R has assiduously been amassing over the previous weeks. All proceeds to the village hall fund of course. People don’t just turn up to buy our ice cream, oh no, there are bouncy castles and sports day races for the kids, but there are some awesome classics that really bring in the crowds.

Outside of Goodwood I would say that my village green attracts the most eclectic and impressive bunch of classics in the world. We have a military vehicle enthusiast in the village who has enough firepower in his back garden to launch a major coup. He brings in enough kit from mates to start, finish and tidy up after a retro third world war.