EC: I didn't, but the java at Cerda gives the same buzz. Looking at vintage film and photos is one thing, actually driving those roads at a reduced speed in a current Porsche is another. Add in the crowds lining the road... how did a driver maintain his concentration?
VE: I have an advantage. I have an almost photographic memory for roads, which meant that I never had to rely on landmarks or anything visible. I simply knew what the road was doing next, which meant the crowds didn't bother me; it was as though they weren't there.
EC: Your 1968 come-from-behind victory is acknowledged to be one of the great drives in history, and not just at the Targa. Was it faith in your abilities or just lack of fear?
VE: Simply total confidence in myself. I knew the road completely--even Vaccarella, who was born in Collesano, reckoned that he never knew it quite as well as I did. I knew I could drive at 100 percent without making any mistakes.
EC: No one wants to see people get hurt, and an event such as the Targa isn't possible anymore for safety reasons. However, hasn't the sport lost something in its advances? Permanent seating, dull track layouts passed off as a circuit? Or am I just being too romantic?
VE: Modern Mickey-Mouse tracks together with the dumbing down of performance means that there really isn't much racing any more. The results are largely decided on qualifying times. Of course, the Targa had absolutely no safety provisions for the drivers, or indeed the spectators, so there was no way it could continue. Incredibly, I believe only two drivers were ever killed on the Targa and one of those was way back in the '20s, when having gone off the road, the driver was killed as the car fell over on top of him while he was climbing out. To my knowledge, no spectator was ever killed and there was nothing more than the odd scrape, bruise or broken bone.
EC: Here you go, the question you always are asked, but this time for the benefit of print and with a twist. What are your top five favorite Porsches based on the merits of the car and not the results you may have had.
VE: Not necessarily in order--the 917s, all of them. Even the first undriveable monster at Le Mans in 1969 I loved because it was so fast. The first real long-tail in 1970. Again, although it was quite difficult to drive in as much as you had to be very precise and it didn't like being hustled around, but the result was a car so fast I never had to really race. Any time I wanted to go by the car in front I just waited till we went round the next corner and then drove past. The short tails. Great racing between Jo and Pedro and me. Usually the first hour was like a Grand Prix and we rarely finished without the odd tire mark somewhere on the bodywork. The 910 and 908/3, fun cars and very easy to drive. The very first 911s I drove in Corsica, Monte Carlo, other European Championship rallies. It took about three months to really learn to drive a 911 then, but it was well worth the effort.
In 1968 I drove a 911R in the Criterium des Cevennes and Tour de Corse rallies. It had a 2-liter, six-cylinder twin-cam engine, which was built by Hans Metzger as a sort of rolling test bed for the 3-liter, eight-cylinder and then the 12-cylinder engines that were to come. I believe only three of these engines were ever built and I think I was the only one who ever drove it. It had colossal torque all the way from about 3000 rpm to the redline at 8200. Trouble was, the 911R was very light and spent a lot of time bouncing in the air, with the result that when it came down it easily broke driveshafts.