1968 Lotus S3 Elan SE FHC

This Elan Coupé – correctly badged as such, too – is a thing of beauty and a joy to behold and drive.

One of the very last S3s made, this car has the bonnet bulge which was introduced for a few, late model S3s using Weber carbs (like this one), but is more usually associated with the S4 with Stromberg carbs.

S4 Elans began production in March 1968. The steering wheel, air vents and perforated upholstery on this car are very much on the cusp of the S3 becoming the S4.

It’s all a bit of a blur. Even the Classic Certificate of Vehicle Provenance provided by Lotus for this car states that the date of manufacture is ‘Around February 1968’.

In other, less buccaneering marques, these date/specification inconsistencies might raise eyebrows.

You can’t imagine the Germans being so cavalier with their record-keeping.

But Lotus in the 60s was notoriously gung-ho in its attitude to paperwork, serial numbers, documentation, invoices, consistency across model variants, and other boring stuff like that.

And so we come to that Lotus bonnet badge which, like the badge on the steering wheel and the gear knob, is not green and gold but black.

Forever associated with Lotus, for whom he did most of his racing, double World Champion Jim Clark died at the Hockenheimring in Baden-Württemberg on April 7th 1968. For some time thereafter, the legend says, all Lotus Elans wore a black badge as a mark of honour.

Well, no.

Not quite.

Eagle-eyed observers among you will have noticed that this car, with its black badges, pre-dates Jim Clark’s death by at least a month.

Our understanding is that these black badges had, in fact, been commissioned before Clark’s untimely death and had already appeared on Elans. Their status as memorials to Jim Clark was only retrospectively attributed to them by Colin Chapman.

Or it could just be a case of Lotus’ infamously chaotic paperwork striking again. Probably. Possibly.

Suffice to say that Lotus aficionados will be rather better than us at unravelling the tangle of dates, numbers and model specifications that create a trail of evidence leading to this splendid and undoubtedly authentic car.

With a mileage of just 45,000 and an overall condition that is just fabulous, it’s very hard to believe that this car first put rubber on tarmac when Jane Fonda was wearing a tin foil bikini in Barbarella, Aretha Franklin was saying a little prayer and Dionne Warwick had got lost on her way to San Jose.

The vendor, who has quite a stable of classic cars, has owned it for around 5 years, during which time he has spent somewhere in the region of £8k doing whatever needed doing to make sure that the car was in top order and fully fettled and tuned for a sublime driving experience.

Prior to that, this most British of sports cars lived from 1976 to 2016 in Monflanquin, south-west France, where it no doubt made the most of that country’s rather less congested road system on the rare occasions when it wasn’t in storage. It still has some sort of French road tax sticker on the inside of the windscreen.

It has clearly been well looked-after throughout its life and the money, care and attention lavished on it since its return to these shores is clear to see from both its evidently exceptional condition and the accompanying invoices.

It starts, goes and stops exactly as it should. More importantly, it has all the feel, balance, poise and nimbleness that a properly fettled and tuned Lotus Elan should have.

It’s a little gem.

Fibreglass cars of this era were rarely perfect, even when brand new, but this one is as good as you could hope to find in terms of panel fit, shut lines and door gaps.

The car really does present very well indeed. The blue paintwork is largely original, although a couple of panels have been resprayed in the last 5 years, and the paintwork/gel coat has an impressive finish, shine and depth of lustre to it.

The chrome work is shiny and bright and all badging is correct and in good condition. The bumpers are free of any nudges, scuffs or dinks to speak of.

The tiny wheels, designed to add as little as possible to the car’s unsprung weight, are in very good nick, as are the wonderful chrome spinners. The wheels are shod with matching Goodyear 155/78x13 tyres which appear to be in good condition and have plenty of life left in them.

Unsurprisingly for a fibreglass car, rust is nowhere in evidence on the bodywork.

There is the merest hint of road rash on the front and rear valances, but considerably less than either its years or mileage should dictate.

We’ve not seen much evidence of the crazing or spidery cracks than can blight fibreglass of this vintage, and that is almost certainly a testament to the fact that although in lived in southern France for most of its adult life it clearly wasn’t left out in the baking sun against its will.

The impossibly cute headlights pop up and down precisely as the good engineers of Norwich intended.

The rubber seal on the bottom n/s corner of the windscreen has seen better days and the windscreen wipers could do with being slightly more closely acquainted with the surface of the windscreen.

But that’s it.

Frankly, we’re clutching at straws here.

Well, the good news just goes on and on.

The superior SE (Special Equipment) interior of this car really is in splendidly original condition. Remember, this car hasn’t been restored, it’s just been really well cared for throughout it’s life.

The wood veneer dashboard we know to be original because it looks like it’s made of plastic. That’s what they looked like when they were new. So it’s a good ‘un.

The Lotus badge on top of the classic wooden gear knob and the steering wheel boss are every bit as monochrome as the bonnet badge, ditching the traditional Lotus green and gold for the black of what would become known as the Jim Clark edition.

The Colin Chapman signature perforated alloy and leather steering wheel is untroubled by time and is wonderfully evocative of the late 60s.

In fact, it’s so vividly redolent of its era that you’ll want to rush out and buy a pair of string-backed driving gloves, a poster of Raquel Welch and some patchouli grooming oil for your Zapata moustache.

All the dials, instruments, knobs, levers, toggles and switches appended to or embedded in the dashboard are in fine functional and aesthetic order. As far as we’re aware, everything works.

The perforated vinyl upholstery on the seats is a true survivor, too. Aside from a tiny nick to the leading edge of the passenger seat cushion there are no obvious signs of wear or other indications that the material is 53 years old.

The door cards, carpets and mats are in similarly impressive fettle, as is the headlining. The stubby short-shift gear lever (which is a joy to use) and its surround are also fine.

Lifting up the carpets in here or inside the boot (with its full-size spare) reveals – nothing to worry about whatsoever.

The padded top on the transmission tunnel armrest might thank the next owner for a reapplication of adhesive to secure it more firmly in place.

We noticed that the interior lights kept flickering on and off when we were driving the car. The vendor thinks this may be to do with a micro-switch on the door.

Either way, it’s hardly a deal-breaker.

The undersides of the car look to have a good deal of integrity and we found nothing that should raise an eyebrow or cause strong men to faint.

Everything is in order and, as with the rest of this car, all looks solid and sorted.

There is the odd bloom of entirely superficial rust dust here and there, but absolutely nothing to worry about.

The engine bay is an uncluttered and simple space, and an authentic representative of the bygone age from which it hails, but everything appears to be in its right and proper place.

A quick look through the receipts and invoices supplied by the vendor supports his claim that he’s “left no stone unturned” in his efforts to address any and all mechanical and aesthetic issues with this car.

The engine, which has only clocked up 45,000 miles, has been compression tested, leak tested, tuned and fettled. The Weber carbs have been overhauled and tuned. Everything that needed doing has been done.

The car doesn’t come with a full and detailed history or books full of service stamps.

But this Elan is a straightforward, uncomplicated, honest thing. It wears the proof of its health and vitality on its sleeve, as it were.

And, besides, the work done in the last 5 years should give you all the peace of mind you need.

The car has an MoT certificate until 10.6.21 and comes with a letter from Lotus confirming authentication, a fistful of invoices and receipts from recent years and, should you feel inclined to completely strip and rebuild the car from scratch for some bizarre reason, the full workshop manual.

This is a highly authentic, sensitively refurbished and fully fettled example of a truly iconic British sports car.

It delights the eye from every angle, outside and inside. And it starts, goes and stops as well as it looks. This then, is a thoroughbred driver’s car that’s as rewarding to drive now as it was in 1968.

Possibly more so.

It won’t win a Concours award at Pebble Beach, but it should win hearts and minds everywhere for being a really smart example of what we think is a genuine, expertly curated, and thoroughly sorted car.

We’re confident that this beautifully original Lotus Elan S3 SE FHC will fetch somewhere in the region of £26,000 - £35,000.

Inspection is always encouraged (within Govt. guidelines of course), and this particular car is located with us at The Market HQ near Abingdon; to arrange an appointment please use the Contact Seller button at the top of the listing. Feel free to ask any questions or make observations in the comments section below, or try our ‘Frequently Asked Questions’.