When we ended last week’s post, I had moved from New Jersey to Sweden, where I was to work on the marketing side of a small-car project just then beginning to staff up at Volvo’s headquarters. Even though by that time, I had made many business trips to Gothenburg, they had only included hotel breakfasts, daily meetings within the Volvo complex, and dinners at either the hotel or at a couple of local-favorite restaurants with which I had become familiar.
This was different, however. Making the transatlantic move to a new country meant many new experiences, among them applying for my “personnummer” (Sweden’s answer to our SSNs) from the Swedish Tax Agency (skattebolaget) and completing a number of employment -and housing-related forms. In the end, every step needed to become an official Swedish-resident, tax-paying American ex-pat was navigated successfully.
My Swedish HR contacts provided me with a magnetic Volvo passcard, allowing me access to several of the buildings in its Gothenburg campus, and I received the keys to my V40 company car, so I had my own wheels and was ready to go when my new-car project colleagues returned to the office.
One afternoon I found myself idly leafing through a Swedish classic-car magazine. Marveling at the sheer volume of Volvo and, to a lesser extent, Saab collector cars advertised, my eyes then fell on a small photo ad describing a pair of classic Ford Mustangs offered by a private individual in Luleå, Sweden. For those not familiar with Swedish geography, the town of Luleå is located about 1050 km (about 650 miles) northeast of Gothenburg, on the northwest coast of the Baltic Sea. It’s also fairly close to the Finnish border.
Most of my CC readers can probably guess what happened next. After first ensuring that I could rent a secure garage at my apartment complex for a reasonable monthly fee, I briefly debated the sanity of making a quintessentially American classic car my first major purchase while stationed in Sweden. The next step was to call the number listed in the ad, find out more about the cars, and learn as much as I could about how they ended up in that corner of the world…
As it turned out, their owner, a pleasant fellow named Börje, was about the same age as I, a Mustang enthusiast of long standing, and fortunately, fluent in English. (This was before I began taking Swedish language classes, a perk I had to fight Volvo to agree to. That’s another story…) He’d owned the two ponycars, a ’65 fastback and a ’66 GT convertible, for a few years and had regretfully put them on the market to pay for an addition to his small home in the Luleå countryside. The long conversation ended with an agreed-upon weekend meeting date and logistics: After securing a seat on one of the many round-trip flights from GOT to LLA, I would then advise Börje of my arrival time, and he would meet me at the airport.
The direct flight took slightly less than two hours, and it was easy to pick out Börje at the arrival gate, since he was the only one holding up a picture of a classic Mustang. After a short ride we arrived at his modest but pleasant home, and after some schnapps-fueled extended Blue Oval-related conversation we headed out to his garage, which housed not one, but two first-generation Mustangs, a Rangoon Red ’65 fastback and an Acapulco Blue ’66 convertible. Neither looked to be a 100-point concours winner, but both were in better condition than I had expected.
After doing a thorough walk-around of both cars, Börje asked me which one I was most interested in. Understand that though the southwestern coast enjoys a relatively mild winter climate for Sweden (average temperatures in the low-to-mid 30s F. and typical monthly precipitation of 4″ to 5″), it’s hardly a top-down driving mecca. However, inspecting Börje’s ’66 and possibly thinking back to my first car, the ’66 Caliente drop-top extolled in this post), I answered “the convertible”. The fact that it also had a white bucket-seat interior like the Caliente was probably also a contributing, if irrational, factor in the purchase decision.
A short test drive raised no obvious issues, and after returning to Börje’s home, the deal was agreed-upon, funds were exchanged at the local SE-Banken, and I headed back to the airport for the homeward return flight. The ’66 convertible, pictured on Hisingen island near Gothenburg. It barely fit into my newly-rented apartment garage.
Yes, at least one of my decisions was relatively rational: I decided not to chance the 650-mile drive back to Gothenburg, instead using a car-transport service recommended by one of my Volvo colleagues to safely move the Mustang from Luleå to a Volvo parking lot near my office. The transport driver then handed over the keys and my “Mustang Jones” was satisfied.
In retrospect, opting for the fastback might have been a wiser choice. Even smarter would have been to limit my classic-car activities to spectating at one or more of Sweden’s numerous old-car shows (which I also did, as you will see in future posts).
But who said classic-car enthusiasts were rational?
Very nice…and I can see the attraction of driving around Sweden as an ex-pat in an iconic American car.
Looking forward to the rest of this story. For example, how did Borje acquire his cars? I’m continually fascinated by how older American cars get overseas, so it’d be nice to hear these cars’ origin stories.
I understand the desire to bring a little bit of home with you to Sweden, and your ownership history made an early Mustang a perfect choice for you. Between the Comet and Mustang from your youth and the Sunbeam Tiger, you were quite fluent in Ford’s compacts and in that generation of V8 engine.
That blue convertible looks really sharp!
What a beautiful country.
The cars they make are in accordance with the beauty of their places. I would love to retire there and spend my last years in some rural area, no matter the cold.