Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Volkswagen vans and Beetle on a forearm

Forearm · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a blue Volkswagen camper van, an orange Beetle and a red camper van driving left to right, with a large Volkswagen logo behind them. The linework is dark and the vehicles are shaded with soft highlights and small shadows. The palette is blue, orange, red and black, and the motifs sit centrally on the skin against a plain background with a checked floor and a coin visible at the left edge.

Forearm Beetle Car Logo Vehicle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The Beetle coughed twice on the hill above Lostwithiel and then decided to carry on regardless, the way Nan decided things. Behind it the blue camper sighed its brakes, and Tom leant out of the window shouting that he had told us so about the carburettor. We were late already. Pen had promised the harbour committee three vehicles at the bottom of Fore Street by six, and it was twenty past five with the sea showing grey between the hedges.

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We came down into Polperro in a convoy nobody had planned. The red camper, which Pen had bought off a retired vicar for eleven hundred pounds and a jar of damson jam, rolled in last with its wipers going for no reason. From the harbour road we could already see the big wheel on the quay, its spokes lit and turning slowly against the dusk. It was painted white with a blue hub, and Pen said that was a fluke while Tom said it was destiny.

The operator, a man called Lewis with a flask of tea and a voice like a gull, had already locked the gate. He looked at the three of us, the Beetle ticking as it cooled, and sighed the way people do when a joke has finally arrived. "One vehicle at a time," he said, unhooking the chain, "and nobody sick on the seats."

We rode it four times that night, the Beetle last, swinging over the harbour with its paint catching the lamps. At the top, with the village lit below and the water going quiet, Pen leant out of the gondola and said the red van would never make it home. Nobody argued. Lewis had already sent the wheel round again for the last of the light, and none of us asked him to stop.