Museum Lira, Santiago de Chile

It was my first weekend in Chile. From Santiago, I could see the snow-capped mountains. Puente del Inca, just across the border in Argentina, was not far away and offered an ideal vantage point from which to admire the sheer scale of Aconcagua. The possibilities for a spring weekend were incredible. On the other hand, Santiago has two classic car museums, and one of them is closed on Sundays, so I decided to save my trip to the Andes for the following day. On Saturday morning, I took the Metro northwards. At the penultimate stop, I caught a bus which, after almost an hour, dropped me off in a desolate industrial estate. The security guard, surprised to see a foreigner walking all the way out there, contacted the museum to let them know I was on my way. So, when I arrived, Magdalena, Andrés and Lili gave me a warm welcome.

The Museo de Autos Antiguos de Chile, run by the Fundación Lira, was founded in 2010 in Quilicura. Its original collection came from the vehicles owned by Gabriel Lira, a businessman involved in the mining industry who had spent decades rescuing cars from every corner of Chile and adding them to his collection. The museum has a huge main hall, occupied largely by American cars, a shed housing military vehicles, and another building dominated by small European runabouts, including a Nobel built in Chile.

Being the first visitor of the day has its advantages: you get a guide all to yourself and can take photographs with no other visitors around, just the cars. Magdalena told me the stories behind some of the most unusual vehicles. Unfortunately, at the last minute I had left my camera out of my suitcase, so I had to take all the photographs on this trip with my mobile phone.

The first row consisted mainly of American cars from the 1920s. There were, of course, Ford Model Ts and Model As, Chevrolets, Dodges, Plymouths and so on, alongside less familiar marques such as Marmon, Whippet, Essex and De Soto. Among the European models, a Citroën C4, an Adler, a BMW 328 and a Mercedes-Benz 130H stood out. The latter was the same model as the one on display at the Mercedes-Benz Museum in Stuttgart.

The H stands for Heck, meaning ‘rear’ in German. Daimler began developing this model while Ferdinand Porsche was still the company's chief engineer. Unlike the Volkswagen and the Tatra T97, the Mercedes-Benz, launched in 1934, had a water-cooled engine, which resulted in a considerable imbalance in weight distribution between the axles and made it rather tricky to handle. A couple of years later, it was replaced by the 170H, which improved matters in this respect but still failed to outsell the front-engined 170V. The museum in Mulhouse also has a perfectly restored 170H.

Magdalena drew my attention to the 1925 Nash that had belonged to Arturo Alessandri Palma, President of Chile, with its white paintwork and red interior. What impressed me most in that hall, however, were the two 1929 Oakland models. Both retained their original two-tone green paintwork, with a fine yellow pinstripe running horizontally along the body. The four-door saloon had covered barely 30,000 kilometres and, as the photographs show, its interior looked just as it must have done when it left the factory nearly 90 years ago.

In the hall devoted to smaller cars, a curious 1958 Mitsubishi Leo three-wheeler greeted visitors alongside a FIAT Multipla and a SIMCA 1000. Among the various FIAT, SIMCA and Peugeot models were also a BMW 700, several German and British Fords, including a Consul Capri, and a Lancia Gamma. American cars were represented among the smaller European models, too. One of the highlights was a Chevrolet Corvair, with its rear-mounted, air-cooled six-cylinder engine. It was the only American car with a rear engine to be produced on a large scale.

The most curious vehicles in this hall were undoubtedly two tiny microcars. One was a green 1960 Heinkel, similar to an Isetta but even smaller, which was awaiting completion of its restoration. The other was a 1962 Nobel.

As soon as I entered the hall, I noticed a white Fuldamobil. Magdalena immediately corrected me, explaining that it was actually a Chilean-built Nobel, one of the first cars manufactured in the country and powered by an engine of just 200cc. The Fuldamobil was not only built in Germany and Chile; licences were also granted for production in Britain, the Netherlands, Sweden, Greece, Argentina, India and South Africa.

Back in the main hall, a FIAT Balilla and a couple of Volvos led the way to a corridor where several enormous American cars from the 1950s and 1960s alternated with British models from the same period. Among the highlights were a 1940 Packard, which retained its original interior in excellent condition, and a 1938 Hudson. There was also a 1949 Cadillac Series 62, an earlier model than the one featured in my post about Coro in Venezuela. This example was in excellent condition and still wore its original grey paintwork. It had also belonged to a controversial Chilean president, Carlos Ibáñez del Campo. Its interior can be seen in the photographs..

At one end of the museum stood a Tatra 603, still bearing its Czech number plate. Along with the Škoda Felicia and a Volvo or two, it was one of the few cars in the collection that had not originally been registered in Chile.

The 603 follows in the footsteps of the pre-war Tatra T87, which I wrote about in a post last summer. Like its predecessor, it has an impressive rear-mounted eight-cylinder engine, which Andrés kindly uncovered so that I could photograph it. The car had been restored at the museum. Although Andrés did not start the engine, he assured me that, when running, it sounded like an aeroplane.

During the restoration, the team made a discovery that surprised Andrés. With the air-cooled rear engine so far from the driver, a conventional heating system would struggle to deliver warm air to the front of the car. The Tatra therefore has a petrol-fired heater beneath the front seat, which was uncovered during the restoration.

The next row was also dominated by American cars. Among them, a charming post-war Juva looked almost like a child's car. The European contingent included a Peugeot 203.

The museum has a rather unusual approach to restoration. Whenever possible, it prefers to leave certain parts unrestored rather than replace them with modern alternatives. Some cars therefore still have cracked glass, which is considered more faithful to the original than replacing it with newly cut panes. In cases such as the Peugeot 203, original headlights can still be sourced, but the museum sometimes opts to cut coloured glass to size rather than fit new headlights. Some cars also retain their bumpers painted in metallic grey instead of having them rechromed.

At the back of the hall, there was a recreation of a period workshop, complete with a 1920s pick-up truck. Andrés was particularly proud of the forge, which had been designed to look as though a flame was burning inside it.

The museum has three FIAT Balillas. One has been fully restored, while the other two have been cut in half, one lengthways and the other crossways. One of them is displayed in the main hall with one half of the bodywork, the engine and the chassis restored, while the other half of the bodywork has been left in its original condition.

Not far away was a FIAT 1800, finished in a colour combination that would look rather surprising on a SEAT 1500, with which it shared the same body shell.

I had sold my Dauphine barely a week earlier, so finding a Renault Caravelle/Floride in the museum brought back memories, especially when Andrés opened the engine compartment and I spotted so many familiar details from our Dauphine, including the same Ventoux engine and heater housing.

Andrés did not make much of it, but I was intrigued by a SIMCA Aronde Plein Ciel, a model I had not come across before. It featured a wraparound windscreen and an elegant body built at Facel's Paris works. More than 11,000 examples of this coupé, powered by a 1,300cc engine, and its convertible sibling, the Océane, were produced between 1957 and 1962.

The museum also preserves one of the eight 1950 Fords imported that year to form the country's first fleet of police patrol cars. Until then, all the carabineros had travelled on horseback.

Finally, I went outside to see the cars parked around the building. One that caught my eye was a Ford Ranchero, the pick-up version of the Falcon. It was in better condition than the example in the photograph I included in my post about the Argentine Falcons.

There was also a 1952 Oldsmobile fitted with a wood-gas generator, similar to the systems used in post-war Europe when fuel was scarce.

This is undoubtedly a museum well worth visiting. I am very grateful to Magdalena, Andrés and Lili for their warm welcome and for taking the time to show me around.