getdisbugouttame

I admit that after a lifelong obsession with automotive things, I never really got what the fuss was about Bugatti.

Until I actually saw one, then sat in it, then started it up at the national automotive museum in Alsace. Its all clear now. Ettore Bugatti was the son of a sculptor who is exhibited in the D’Orsay. His sculptures are macho things, the stuff that one might find in an upscale version of a Tony Montana boudoir–panthers, tigers, that kind of thing. All very emotive, which, in a nutshell defines the classic Bugatti.

I’ve been so hot and bothered by these cars I have yet to find time to think or write about anything else.