sergio brambillasca

Hi CBuff! What a beautiful drive! The curves of the Storm King Highway and the autumn colors of the trees are absolutely spectacular. Watching your video, I could almost imagine myself behind the wheel of my own Caterham. It's amazing how, even though we live on different continents, we share exactly the same pleasure: a winding road, beautiful scenery, and the freedom of driving a Seven. Thank you for taking us along on this wonderful little journey through New York State! Greetings from Italy, Sergio

From the Heart of Milan to the Hills of Brianza – A Sunday with My Seven This morning I took my 1997 Caterham to the Sunday gathering in Piazza Affari, in the heart of Milan. It is quite a special setting for a car gathering. In front of the Milan Stock Exchange stands L.O.V.E. by Maurizio Cattelan, the famous sculpture that everyone in Milan simply calls “the finger”. Art, architecture, cars and people somehow all come together in the same square. During the morning, something unexpected happened. A journalist came directly over to me and asked if she could interview me. Her first questions were about my work as an artist, and then about the relationship I have with my Caterham. I found this particularly interesting because, from the way she asked her questions, I almost had the impression that she already knew something about my work. We talked about art, the Seven, and the particular relationship that develops with a car you have owned and driven for so many years. Then the interview took a completely unexpected turn: she also asked me what I thought about travelling by private jet. Quite a curious leap from my wonderfully simple Caterham to a very different way of travelling! In the afternoon I left Milan behind and headed towards Montevecchia, in the hills of Brianza. Within a short time, the scenery changes completely. The city gives way to small roads, hills, vineyards and woods, with wide views opening over the Lombardy plain. And perhaps this is another reason why I still love my Seven so much. In the morning it can take me into the heart of Milan, among cars, people and even a work by Cattelan; a few hours later it can take me into the silence of the hills. Two different worlds. One Sunday. And always the same Seven. Sergio

What an incredible change of landscape. Beautiful! Thank you for showing us another side of Arizona.

What a fantastic road — and beautiful photos! The landscape is completely different from ours, but I can see exactly what you mean. Those bends and climbs must be wonderful in a Seven. This is one of the things I love about these cars: the roads may be thousands of miles apart, but behind the wheel we seem to look for the same thing. Thank you for sharing it.

Thank you! This is one of those roads where the Caterham really feels at home. Lots of bends, beautiful scenery and very little traffic. Italy still hides some wonderful roads like this.

Yesterday, taking advantage of the beautiful weather, I took my Seven up towards Valcava and then drove down through Roncola. My old 1997 Seven took me to over 1,000 metres above sea level, along mountain roads, through woods and past views that were well worth stopping for and taking a few photographs. It gave me an idea. Whenever the weather allows, during my Sunday drives I'd like to take you along with me through my photographs and show you a little of the area where I live: Brianza, Lecco, the lakes, the mountains, and some of those small places that don't often appear in tourist guides. And I hope you'll do the same with your Sevens. Show me your roads, your landscapes, and the places that mean something to you. It could become a nice way for us to get to know one another — one Sunday and one road at a time. After all, perhaps that's one of the pleasures of owning a Seven: you don't always need a destination to have a good reason to set off. Sergio

Now I understand! Storm King Highway. I was close, but not quite there. 😄 Looking at your photos, I can see why you drive your Seven there. That road seems made for a car like ours. I’ve never been there, but now you’ve given me another road to add to my list. This is one of the things I like about this forum: you start talking about a car, and suddenly you discover a road on the other side of the world.

CBuff, that road really caught my attention. Looking at the rock face, the stone wall and the water in the background, I tried to figure out where it might be. Is that Bear Mountain Bridge Road along the Hudson, by any chance? I've never been to that part of the world, but from your photos it looks like a fantastic road to drive in a Seven.

CBuff, you're right — why choose? Looking at your photos makes me want to get back on a track again! But there's one thing that has changed for me over the years. On a track I remember the lap times, the braking points and the lines. On the road, I tend to remember the places and the people I met along the way. Maybe that's one of the wonderful things about a Seven: the same car can give you two completely different experiences. By the way, where were the first two photos taken? That road looks fantastic.

Reiver, your story about the Carabiniere reminded me of something that happened to my Caterham. I'm attaching a photograph of the art gallery I had in Chioggia, near Venice. If you look at the right-hand side of the photo, you can see where I used to park the Caterham, practically next to the gallery. One day, an English tourist — a rather large lady — decided that the rear fender of my Caterham was the perfect place to sit for a photograph. When I saw her, I just froze. 😂 The problem was that the fender wasn't metal, but fiberglass. When she stood up, the paint had cracked. She was terribly embarrassed and apologized. Of course, she couldn't have known how delicate it was. In the end, I couldn't even get angry with her. We started talking, went into the gallery, and that little disaster ended very differently from how it had begun: we became friends, and she even bought one of my paintings. So my Caterham cost me a fender repair... but it also sold a work of art for me. To this day, I'm still not sure whether I came out ahead or behind. 😄 Sergio

Since we're telling each other a little about ourselves, I thought I'd show you how I enjoy my Caterham these days. I don't really go to the track anymore. On Sunday mornings I sometimes take it to a classic car gathering in Piazza Affari, in the centre of Milan. But in the afternoon I often leave the city behind and head north, looking for the small roads and beautiful places of the upper Brianza. It's an area of hills, small villages, woods and winding roads just north of Milan. Sometimes you turn a corner and suddenly the landscape opens up in front of you. This is what I love about driving a Seven here. You don't need to go fast. You're almost inside the landscape — you feel the air, the smells, even the change in temperature when you enter the woods. Here are a few photographs from some of my Sunday drives. I'm curious: how about you? Do you still look for the track, or do you sometimes just take your Seven out and see where the road takes you?

Reiver, what a wonderful photograph — and an even better story. A Maserati 3500 GTI in Italy in the 1970s... I think you chose a very good way to discover our roads! Your comment about understanding that the lines showed the direction rather than the lane made me laugh. This is exactly what fascinates me about cars: after many years we don't really remember just the machine. We remember the roads, the places, the people and a particular moment of our lives. Do you remember where this photograph was taken? And what happened to the Maserati when you left Italy?

Thank you! Here it is: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/sergiobrambillasca/oltre-il-confine I’d really like to know what you think when you’ve had a look at it. Sergio

Thank you, Scott! Here it is: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/sergiobrambillasca/oltre-il-confine And thank you for asking. I’d be very interested to hear what you think of the project once you’ve seen the whole story behind it.

Thank you — this is much more than a comment, it is a wonderful piece of motoring history. What I find fascinating about the story of Chris Rea and Auberge is precisely this: a Seven can be simply a car, but sometimes it becomes part of a person’s language, their memories and even their creative work. For Chris Rea it became part of his music and imagery; for me, in a completely different way, my Seven is gradually becoming part of my work as an artist. Perhaps that is what makes these little cars so extraordinary: they don’t simply take us somewhere. They create stories, encounters and conversations. And judging by what you have just added to this discussion, your wife’s “old grumbler” clearly still has some very good stories to tell! 😉 Thank you for sharing this one with us.