Lyndon McNeil Captures Vintage Vehicles — and the People Who Ride Them
Vintage vehicles are often treated like museum pieces: polished, judged, parked. Photographer Lyndon McNeil does the opposite. With writer Chris Haddon, he’s built a series of books that document machines that still live on the road—classic cars, retro campers, old bicycles, vintage motorbikes, and now retro scooters. Their latest project turns to Italy and the UK, tracing scooter culture from everyday streets to the sharp, rebellious elegance of the Mods. What matters to them isn’t perfection, but attachment: the way a dent, an oil mark, or a creaky suspension can say more about a life than a flawless restoration ever will.
We met Lyndon McNeil, a true hunter of vintage vehicles, to talk about taste, selection, and what makes an image feel like a ride.
How did you meet Chris Haddon, and why work together?
Lyndon McNeil: Chris and I met when he was looking for a photographer for his third book—while I was looking to do my first. It was for My Cool Classic Car. He’d been digging through classic car magazines and found my work there.
The funny part is the photo that caught his eye: a green Opel Manta under railway arches in Putney, London. He contacted me through the magazine. From our first meeting we became close friends, and together we push each other creatively. Ironically, I never even liked that Opel Manta shot that brought us together!
Where do you find the vehicles you shoot—and how do you choose them?
Lyndon McNeil: For the books, we have strict criteria. The vehicles have to be loved, used, and still running—whatever the weather. We’re not hunting concours scooters, motorbikes, or cars.
A collectible can leak oil, squeak, or be a little battered; that doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s cared for and has a kind of “soul” that inspires. It needs to feel like an extension of someone’s personality.
For my magazine work, it’s different: you’re often asked for the best example, the rarest model, something people haven’t seen in years—or ever. That’s getting harder, because so much has already been photographed. But I have a strong network of collectors, and that helps.
Do you remember someone particularly memorable from a shoot?
Lyndon McNeil: There are so many characters across all the books, and we laughed during almost every shoot. If we—or the person we’re photographing—aren’t enjoying it, we stop. Simple as that.
These are enthusiast-to-enthusiast encounters. That’s what we want to highlight. Everyone should come away with a good feeling.
Your best shoot so far?
Lyndon McNeil: My Cool Bicycle was brilliant because it happened in New York—one of my favourite cities.
For My Cool Classic Car, my best memory was photographing a Citroën DS at sunrise from Waterloo Bridge in London, early on a Sunday morning. The city was quiet, the light was soft, and the car looked like it belonged to another era—yet it was right there, alive in the present.
Your favourite photos?
Lyndon McNeil: Two—maybe three. They’re all portraits.
One is designer Tom Karen, who designed the Raleigh Chopper bicycle. He’s sitting in his chair, drinking a cup of coffee. There’s something comforting in how simple it is.
The second is fashion designer Sir Paul Smith with his head buried in a collection of cycling jerseys. He was easy and genuinely fun to work with.
The last is Chris Ireland on Pendine Sands, on his Indian motorbike. I asked him to pretend he was riding in a reflective spot on the beach—so the scene felt like movement, even in a still frame.
Where does your passion for vintage vehicles come from?
Lyndon McNeil: I’ve loved anything with wheels and a bit of age since I was a kid. Every Sunday, my dad and I used to go to the racetrack near where we lived—Snetterton—to watch motorbike and car races. That’s where the fascination really took hold.
What do these books ultimately celebrate?
Lyndon McNeil: I love showing the excitement of owning, riding, or driving any kind of vehicle. I want people to feel it in the image—to be transported, as if they’re the one at the handlebars of that old scooter or behind the wheel.
What I want to capture is how you can belong to these cultures—and the life that comes with them.
Why this matters for roadtrip lovers
At Planet Ride we see the same truth on the road: a machine isn’t just transport, it’s a way of being in a place. Whether it’s a scooter in a city or a vintage motorbike on a back road, the experience changes when the vehicle has history—and when it’s still being used, not just displayed.
Pro tip (Planet Ride): even on short rides, plan your day like a real roadtrip—keep margins. If you think you can “just squeeze in” one more stop, that’s when fatigue and rushed decisions show up. Build in breaks so the ride stays smooth and safe.
Want to travel in a vintage vehicle?
If the idea of a retro ride speaks to you—scooter, classic motorbike, or vintage-style roadtrip—Planet Ride can connect you with curated experiences designed to keep the pleasure intact: the right pace, the right roads, and the right support.
À savoir aujourd’hui
This interview reflects a specific moment in Lyndon McNeil’s work and publishing timeline. What remains true is the authors’ approach: vehicles must be used, loved, and tied to real people. Before you plan a vintage-vehicle trip today, check current rental conditions, insurance requirements, and where riding restrictions or low-emission zones may apply.
FAQ
Is a vintage scooter practical for a roadtrip?
It can be—if the route is paced correctly and you accept a slower rhythm. The key is reliability, accessible maintenance, and realistic daily distances.
What should I verify before riding a vintage vehicle abroad?
Insurance coverage, roadside assistance, and any city access rules (especially emission or restricted traffic zones). Also confirm where fuel and basic services are reliably available.
How do you keep a roadtrip comfortable on older machines?
Shorter stages, more breaks, and a simple routine: hydration, a quick mechanical check, and offline navigation as backup if signal drops.
