Words Rasa Dregva
There are road trips, and then there are journeys that define a season. The Derek Bell Tour is firmly in the latter camp – part motoring adventure, part luxury escape, part rolling reunion.
Every year my partner, Simon Furlonger, and I sign ourselves up for this extraordinary cavalcade of cars, people and stories.
Sometimes, Simon even manages to persuade me into doing more than one tour in a year. And though I’ll protest, deep down I know I wouldn’t miss it for the world. The laughter, the camaraderie, the roads – once you’ve experienced it, you’re hooked!
But don’t be fooled. For all its glamour the tour is also a very real test of patience, navigation skills and, occasionally, your marriage. Things go wrong on the road. Maps get misread. Tempers flare. By lunchtime you can usually spot the couples who’ve had what we all call a ‘road row’ – two people sitting at opposite ends of the table, sulking into their salads and unwilling to make eye contact.
By dinner, with a little wine and a lot of laughter, all is forgiven, but it’s still one of the quirks that makes the trip as human as it is luxurious. It’s all part of the rhythm of the Derek Bell Tour.
Adriatic Beginnings: The D-Resort
This year’s tour began in Croatia, at the D-Resort in Šibenik. Set on the edge of the Adriatic, with its slick modern architecture and marina full of gleaming yachts, it provided a suitably glamorous start.
The first evening was all about reconnecting. Some of us have been travelling together for years; others were newcomers. The group seems to grow every year, drawing enthusiasts from all over the world. This time we had friends from France and even the United States joining us, proof of the tour’s international pull.
And, as always, there was the inevitable moment of education for the new arrivals: “This is not a race.’’
For some reason, newcomers always assume that 23 cars lined up together means it’s time to channel their inner Lewis Hamilton. It isn’t.
The Derek Bell Tour is about style, not speed; about enjoying the roads, not conquering them. And it is so amazing the newcomers soon settle into the joy of it all!
The Cars: Icons on the Move
What a line-up it was. Each year the cars are as much a spectacle as the scenery. This time, among the Lamborghinis and Ferraris, the convoy included rarities that would make any collector swoon:
A Mercedes-Benz 300SL. A Ferrari 250 TRI 60 – the kind of car that belongs in a museum but was instead thundering through European mountain passes. Then the Aston Martin DB4, British cool on four wheels, and the modern masterpieces – Ferrari F12s and 599s plus a handful of Porsches – those 911s that prove why they’ve become enduring classics.
And, of course, our own Bugatti Veyron. Few cars turn heads like it. Each time we stopped someone inevitably asked to peek inside, or simply stood back in awe at the engineering. It wasn’t showing off, it was sharing a piece of automotive magic.
Seeing all these cars lined up together each morning before departure was like stepping into a living museum – an event in itself.
Hotel guests and passers-by would gather with their cameras, drawn by the glittering display of automotive history and power.
Morning Rituals: Briefings and Maps
Every day began with a drivers’ briefing run by the organisers. The routes had been painstakingly mapped out in advance, balancing thrilling bends and mountain passes with luxury car-friendly tarmac. Scenic, yes, but also sympathetic to the realities of driving machines worth millions.
There’s an important rule – no sat navs. If you try to plug one in, you’ll almost certainly end up separated from the group and trundling down some motorway. And nothing could be duller. What’s the point of driving a Bugatti or Ferrari on a motorway?
These maps exist for a reason – they take us along routes chosen not just for efficiency but for joy – roads that curve through vineyards, skim alongside rivers and open out into views that stop you. And, occasionally, a surprise hairpin is thrown in to keep you road focused.
Plus, of course, there was the recurring note: “Passports ready, please.” Border crossings were part of the rhythm. Croatia to Slovenia, Slovenia to Italy, Italy to Austria – it added a sense of progress, a gentle reminder that this was no ordinary Sunday drive.
Meneghetti Wine Hotel & Winery
One of the early highlights was our stop at the Meneghetti Wine Hotel & Winery in Croatia. A haven of stone buildings and ancient vines, it exudes rustic charm wrapped in quiet luxury. Olive groves swayed in the breeze, the vineyard shimmered under the sun, and long tables were set under the trees.
Evening meals were unhurried, filled with the laughter of old friends catching up and new ones settling in. Glasses of crisp white and bold red wines clinked as stories from past tours resurfaced. For a while, the growl of engines was replaced with the softer sounds of corks popping and conversations flowing.
Misti Bell, Derek’s wife, has a special way of making everyone feel at home. Her humour and warmth turn what could be an intimidating group of serious car collectors into something far more human.
That’s part of the magic – cars are the spark, but people are the fire.
Slovenia: A Driver’s Paradise
Crossing into Slovenia was like entering a green dream. The roads curled through emerald forests, opened into valleys dotted with villages and occasionally revealed rivers so clear they seemed unreal. For a driver, it was paradise.
The Bugatti came alive on these roads. Smooth tarmac, sweeping bends and just enough challenge to make you grin from ear to ear. Around me, the Lamborghinis roared, the Ferraris sang and the classics glided, each car perfectly at home in its own way.
At rest stops, the chatter was electric. Everyone wanted to relive the best corner, the most exhilarating downhill stretch, the moment they felt their car come alive.
Petrolhead talk can be relentless – sometimes I joke that I need a holiday just to escape another conversation about torque – but in truth, it’s part of the joy.
Evenings were spent in hotels that balanced rustic charm with indulgent spas. That’s no accident. They are carefully chosen not just for their locations, but also for their ability to please the ladies in the group.
After a long day’s drive, slipping into a world-class spa or being pampered in a thermal pool is the perfect counterbalance to the roar of the road.
The Grand Finale: Austria’s Schlosshotel Velden
The final stop was in Austria, at the Falkensteiner Schlosshotel Velden.
Sitting majestically on the shores of Lake Wörthersee, this 16th-century castle-turned-luxury-hotel was a showstopper. Its combination of history, elegance and modern indulgence made for a stunning finale.
Arriving felt triumphant. The convoy pulled in, engines cooling, cars lined up in formation. Passers-by stopped to stare, hotel guests came to their balconies. It looked like a private motor show had descended on the lake.
That last evening was celebratory and a little bittersweet. Champagne glasses clinked, laughter filled the air, and Derek Bell himself shared stories from his illustrious career as a top racing driver.
Though he doesn’t give the briefings, his presence is what gives the tour its spirit. Derek is a legend, yes, but he and Misti are also the heart of the group – approachable, warm and endlessly good company.
The Goodbye Ritual
There’s also a bittersweet ritual at the end of every tour. Huge transporters arrive ready to load up the cars. Watching a Bugatti Veyron or Ferrari 250 TRI 60 being carefully strapped in is a moment of both relief and sadness.
These cars, which had just danced across borders and mountains, now stood patiently waiting to be lifted on to lorries.
The drivers, meanwhile, headed off in different directions – some to Zagreb, others to Ljubljana or Vienna. And, this year, some friends also flew home to France while others headed back across the Atlantic to the States.
After a week together, it always feels a little strange to scatter. But that’s the beauty of the Derek Bell Tour – you know you’ll meet again next year, pick up where you left off and do it all over again.
More than Cars
Yes, the cars are spectacular. Yes, the roads are unforgettable. But the Derek Bell Tour is about so much more. It’s about the friendships that deepen with each passing year. It’s about the laughter at dinner, the WhatsApp jokes, the quiet moments of awe at a mountain vista, the way the group rallies when something goes wrong.
It’s about the quirks, too. The couples who don’t speak at lunch because of a morning spat. The newbies who think it’s a race until they learn the rhythm of the tour. The endless enthusiastic debates about engines and histories that could fill an entire library.
It’s also the rhythm – mornings of engines and maps, afternoons of sweeping roads, evenings of spas and fine dining. A balance of exhilaration and indulgence that feels, in every sense, like living life in the fast lane without ever wanting to get off.
The Road Ahead
When Simon and I look back on this year’s tour, what lingers isn’t just the memory of roaring down Slovenian passes or pulling into the Falkensteiner at sunset. It’s the people. The warmth. The sense of belonging to something that’s half motoring adventure and half family gathering.
Next year, no doubt, Simon will persuade me to do it all again. Maybe even twice. And though I’ll roll my eyes and pretend to resist, I already know the answer.
Because the Derek Bell Tour isn’t just a drive. It’s a story, a tradition and a bond. For all its speed and glamour, it’s the laughter, the friendships and, yes, even the road rows, that make it unforgettable.
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