There was a lot of talk during the lead-up to the Volkswagen California's debut on British shores in October 2005, not least among our growing population of surfers.
In beach car parks up and down the country, rumours swirled of an updating of the archetypal surfers' transport, one that many still drive: the original VW Camper.
Retro-enthusiasts, 1960s hippies and plain old camping aficionados also keenly looked forward to the latest incarnation of VW's surf wagon. The stage was set for a fanfare as the question on everyone's lips - would VW go retro, or embrace the post-modern? - was finally answered.
But if anything defines the term "soft launch", it was that of the California. Come the hour, it was a case of wondering if the hour had paddled out, caught a few waves and vanished. The California arrived with barely a whimper, as if it were either a little unsure of beach etiquette or a hotshot, confident that actions speak louder than words.
Its existence became the stuff of fantasy. A friend had seen one and said it looked good, but it disappeared before he could talk to the owner. The California proved chimerical for me, too; on a trip to north Devon, tyre tracks in Saunton Sands car park were the only lingering but tantalising evidence of the van as it sped away.
But then, dispatched to south-west France for a surfing magazine, I came across a California parked right on the beach. Better still, VW had put it there. All and sundry were welcome to climb aboard and have a nose around and, this being the World Longboard Championships at Anglet, there was plenty of nosing.
My investigations convinced me that the California might just make for a better surf wagon than my Subaru Impreza
, which, owned by a surfer with two surfing sons, is disintegrating before my eyes. My wife, for one, was delighted that VW would send a brand-new California for a week's test drive.
"Does this mean we'll have a practical car for surfing?" she said, eyeing the Subaru with her customary disdain.
"Yes, but only for a week," I replied, before suffering a flashback that involved a garishly painted Ford Transit.
In 1985, four friends and I set off on a surf trip to France during the year between school and university. So far, so conventional, for an odyssey to south-west France is a rite of passage for any self-respecting British surfer.
What made the journey slightly different was our decision to adorn the Transit with zebra stripes. By way of a touchingly teenage sense of diplomacy, we also painted the French flag on a large wooden wetsuit box perched on top of the van.
I shudder to think what we looked like but, suffice to say, after a month, we had cause to flee back to Britain.
Ever since, I had eschewed ownership of vans of any kind, but now, as the California arrived, memories of that trip emerged from brain cells that I had assumed to be long destroyed.
Was it true that two of us had pioneered the ludicrous, and wholly inadvisable, "sport" of car surfing? Had we done any real surfing? More to the point, was I now mature and responsible enough to drive a VW California?
I signed the forms promising to take good care of it and cast my mind back to surf trips over the years. Aside from the Transit and an even more battered Holden, acquired in Australia, all had been conducted thanks to VW.
There was a Cornwall trip in a 1975 1,800cc Camper, a journey to Wales in an ancient Combi, and any number of forays in friends' Transporters. Most recently, I had been in the Orkney and Shetland Islands in a photographer's converted Syncro. Now, though, I would be in my own VW, one whose appearance on British roads had been as little heralded as a summer groundswell in Tynemouth.
Initial impressions were good - the California looked sleek, with nice lines and a prominent VW badge, but there was one drawback: the colour. Silver always seems such a middle-of-the-road hue for a car, let alone a surfer's car. I loaded up a couple of boards - stashing them in the back since mine was not supplied with a roof rack - and set off.
Just about the first thing you notice is the California's power. It is fitted with Volkswagen's five-cylinder 2.5-litre TDI PD engine (there are two versions, producing 130 or 174PS, equivalent to 129 or 172bhp) and, boy, does it shift.
I had the more powerful of these two turbocharged diesels and, in second gear, it felt almost as swift as my admittedly weary Impreza. Its acceleration in the other gears - all the way to sixth - wasn't quite so brisk, but then speed is not a major priority in a surf wagon.
A vehicle like this needs to be spacious, economical and practical. Sea salt from boards and wetsuits is omnipresent and although surfboard wax smells nice, it's no fun when it merges, irretrievably, with a plush interior. The California's dashboard is essentially that of its predecessor, the Caravelle - functional rather than flash, save for the inclusion of sat-nav - while in the back they've thrown in just about everything.
There's a sink, a 42-litre fridge, a cooker with twin gas hobs, a fold-out double bed and oodles of storage space, even for paragliding paraphernalia if you're more happy airborne than out on the waves. Wetsuits can be stowed either in the fitted cupboards (if dried out) or in a sliding drawer under the rear bench. If they're wet, they can as easily be thrown into the rear of the van, which allows for easy water drainage.
It sleeps four, thanks to its electronically operated roof, which can be raised to create a surprisingly large upper berth. Operation is simple, as is the case with much on offer in the California. The outer awning requires a crank but is easy to put in place.
This creates a sheltered area outside the sliding door, and two chairs (cunningly hidden in the tailgate) and a table (ditto within the sliding door) come as standard. Internal working areas - including a fold-away table - are, again, sensibly laid out and easy to clean.
My week-long stewardship of the California would not allow enough time for another French trip, but I put it through its paces around the narrow lanes of the Penwith peninsula in western Cornwall. If its power in low gears and cruising ability are impressive, its handling at speed is a little less so.
Then again, this isn't an Impreza. The California drives more smoothly than might be expected, with barely any rattles from the various stowage spaces, although I did find it a little too easy to select reverse rather than first gear.
Costing from £34,045, the California is not cheap. And nor, to the dismay of some surfers I spoke to at Sennen Cove, is it a retro restyling of the original Camper. Instead, VW has crafted an altogether new surf wagon, one with all mod cons which will return 30mpg if driven conservatively.
For today's affluent, perhaps even mature, surfer, the California is an excellent choice. It's user-friendly, spacious and a joy to drive. But will it one day be as revered as the original Type 2 Camper, produced for 18 years between 1949 and 1967? Perhaps.
Meanwhile, back on the beach, surfers dream their dreams. And one is that VW will relaunch its classic Camper (updated, of course, but at half the price of a California). It's a persistent dream that suggests surfers are, contrary to the stereotype, deeply conservative - or else as skint as ever.
Either way, any such vehicle would be rapturously received.