Autocar

Fuel tax goes down well

Peter Nunn — Fri, 16 May 2008 14:21:46 GMT

Fun and games at the pumps here in Japan recently when the price of a litre of unleaded and diesel actually went down due to this bizarre governmental ***-up.

Yes, in this era of soaring oil prices, Japan amazingly, and for one month only, went the other way. I should explain….

For more than 30 years, Japan’s been living with this “temporary” tax on petrol and diesel to help pay for new roads and repair old ones. At the end of March, however, this “temporary” tax temporarily ran out as Japan’s two political parties couldn’t agree on how to renew it.

Result: the price of diesel and unleaded suddenly plummeted ¥25 a litre, taking regular unleaded down to around ¥125. Put another way, that’s from 74p down to 61p. Government suits and environmentalists were aghast but drivers of course loved it. Inevitably, it couldn’t last and Japan’s cabinet finally rammed through a bill to bring the tax back at the start of May.

At which point, retailers decided to get entrepreneurial as well so that litre of regular unleaded’s now up at a record ¥175 (85p) on the main Tokyo drag, although backstreet places will see it at ¥160 (78p), or less.

Top grade unleaded, which the Japanese delightfully call “hi oku” is now trading at 90p a litre or, again, 84p if you go back street.

How about diesel? Cover your eyes…. Even with the new tax in place, it’s still only 70-75p a litre so a world and some away from the UK right now.

Clearly, the Japanese government could learn a thing or two from Gordon and his chums. Or then again, not.

Britain's most pointless car?

John McIlroy — Thu, 15 May 2008 10:16:19 GMT

I grabbed the keys to a Citroën C5 last night; I’ve been impressed by the looks of and, to a certain extent, the approach behind the French firm’s latest saloon, so I was keen to sample it for myself.

If anything, I’d hoped that a spell behind the wheel might allow me to see past Citroën’s ludicrous marketing campaign for the C5. In case you’ve missed the television commercial – and if you watch F1 on ITV then you’ll struggle to do that – it shows a tiresome man displaying lots of Germanic traits that generally irk Britons, then tells us that the C5 is unmistakeably German (as if this would be a positive), then points out that it is, of course, French.

It’s as if some Citroën marketer piped up, “Of course! The reason British BMW and Merc drivers have forked out their hard-earned on those brands is because the cars are built between knockwurst lunches by sword-fighting Bavarians!” (An alternative view being that it’s because they are better engineered, more reliable and hold their value more effectively.)

Anyway, I digress. The C5 in question was a 2.7 HDI Exclusive, effectively the range-topper with a V6 diesel engine. It costs, wait for it, £24,395 – which makes it, I believe, one of the most pointless cars on sale in the UK today.

Now, put aside for a second the fact that the Mondeo outshines the C5 in almost every area of dynamics (except, perhaps, ride quality). Fact is, you don’t even need to look beyond the C5’s own range to find a car that renders the 2.7 HDi irrelevant. It’s called the 2.2 HDi, it costs precisely £3000 less, wants for precious little on the spec sheet, emits 51g/km less of CO2 and manages 9.9mpg more on a combined cycle.

Alas, it is a whole 3mph slower in terms of top speed and the 2.7-litre model will have raced a whole 0.4sec clear in a dash from 0-62mph. But I’d live with it. Or rather, I’d give it a second glance before committing to a Mondeo 2.2 TDCi.

The thinking man's MPV

James Ruppert — Wed, 14 May 2008 17:15:06 GMT

First of all I would like to thank all of you for posting your super clever suggestions for getting my backside into an interesting seven-seater.

Grateful as I am for the input – I must confess to having completely ignored it. Which is why I’m now the proud owner of a 112,000 mile Volvo V70, 2000 on the “W” and powered by the 2.4-litre petrol engine.

It does fulfil the basic criteria of seating seven, although with two of those rear-facing pop-up seats in the boot. That’s right, sometime before everybody got excited by Vauxhall’s ‘Flex 7’ seating system, various other manufacturers had already had a very similar idea.

The rearmost seats are suitable only for children of course. Which is no bad thing: I’ve discovered they actually can’t wait to climb aboard, hide from parental oversight and then make rude gestures at following motorists.

Before we got to the idea of a rear-facing Swede, I persuaded Mrs. R to have a drive in a Zafira. Which she reckoned was really rather downmarket. We then spent an hour of our lives that we will never get back in a Toyota showroom, looking at a completely underwhelming Verso that was priced so optimistically I couldn’t speak for several days afterwards.

I have to admit that, when you’re actually facing the prospect of putting your name on the V5, it’s the boxy shape of a typical people-carrier that serves as the biggest turn-off. Just the thought of having a lump like that on the drive, blocking out the sun, was enough to make me shudder. Estates are just so much more lifestyle. Plus we – and that’s the royal ‘we’ of HRH Mrs. R – has minimal requirements that include leather, climate and an autobox.

Plan “A” was to find a Merc W124 estate with pop-up seats in the boot, but that one bit the dust when Mrs. R kicked up a fuss about driving a vehicle that was older than the 11-year old Saab she currently pilots. I find more modern Mercedes scary to look at and not entirely reliable.

So we ended up with the Ovlov. I bought it utterly blind – which was stupid, but exciting. Fortunately the old girl seems to be in decent enough fettle and – so far – has cost nothing more than petrol to run.

That said, if I had to do the whole exercise again I think I’d probably just chuck some old foam into the back the Land Rover and tell the kids to make a den there. Next time I’ll think thing through better.

Bertone's fantasy car collection

Julian Rendell — Wed, 14 May 2008 11:46:17 GMT

Every so often in this job, we get lucky enough to live out deepest-rooted dreams, and so it was for me in Italy last week.

I was there to do a story about the Bertone BAT11 concept that you can read about in next week’s mag, a handsome recreation of one of the company’s 1950s one-offs. The venue for the story was Stile Bertone, the company’s design centre, housed in a wonderful architect-designed building which features a wing full of Bertone’s most famous car designs.

The classic collection reads like a world’s best list - Alfa Giulietta and Montreal, Lamborghini Miura and Countach, Lancia Stratos, Iso Rivolta — and all kept in running order.

After an hour or so chatting, Bertone’s Scottish-born design director David Wilkie made the offer of a life-time: “We could get a couple of cars out of the collection for you to drive if you’d like...”

What to choose? No question really, it had to be the Miura, the first mid-engined supercar, and a car I’ve lusted after since I wore short trousers. And a second? Go on then: the Lancia Stratos, which I first glimpsed in well-thumbed copies of Autosport magazine in the days of black-and-white pictures.

Given that it hadn’t run for a while, the Stratos fired-up pretty easily. When the Miura wouldn’t catch, Bertone’s technicians did the obvious and jump-started it....with the Stratos. Is that a Guinness record for an exotic jump-start?

Myself and an equally-chuffed snapper Stan Papior each had a run around the grounds of the design studio.

The Miura had the star quality you’d expect of a 1960s Italian supercar — arms out, legs bent driving position, little rearward vision, unassisted steering that was heavy at parking speed but lightened-up as we got quicker, a gearchange that required firm yet accurate pressure and brakes of dubious bite, even at very low speed. The engine was terrific, running pretty smoothly, if noisily and all accompanied by four-star fumes. Fabulous.

Just getting into the Statos’ cramped cockpit was hard enough: I am in even greater awe of rally maestros like Sandro Munari who tamed the tiny Lancia. I still can’t work out how they squeezed in a roll cage and left room for the driver and navigator to wear helmets.

On our short track, the Stratos was amazingly nimble. With deference to its age and value, I wasn’t exactly pushing it to the limit – but I could still sense the fabulously sharp steering would devour Col de Turini hairpins with a flick of the wrist. The fabulous Ferrari V6 was as eager as when it was new, there’s no doubting the Stratos is still supercar-quick.

What a great day.

2008: could be a fine vintage

Richard Bremner — Tue, 13 May 2008 15:58:31 GMT

I’ve been thinking some more about my idea to ‘lay down’ a car and preserve it as a factory-fresh example so I can enjoy it in as-new condition a decade down the line.

Of course, simply not using a car is one of the worst things you can do to it. Leaving it in a garage is terrible for the mechanical components over time. Brake and clutch hydraulics will stick and seize, electrical items will fail, windows stick in their runners and – if left for long enough – the fuel will turn gloopy and gum up the fuel lines and injection systems.

Preserving the car requires a careful regime of care and attention. It needs to be used regularly, sparingly and correctly – and stored in a ‘Carcoon’ to prevent moisture build-up.

In short, that means a well-ventilated, secure garage with a powerpoint. Then there’s the need to extract the car every month to give it a systematic work-out – a drive over 30-50 miles of dry roads to get everything flowing, and to ensure the engine gets hot enough to evaporate moisture that initially builds up inside it.

The brakes also need exercise, with several hard, high-speed stops to clear the crud off the discs and prevent them warping. And the act of doing all this will work the suspension, the steering, and all the other moving parts. Tyres need to be rotated to avoid flat-spots, too. It’s like taking your investment to the gym.

All these mile-accumulation trips are going to add up. Do this every month for 10 years and you’re looking at 4800 miles, a magnitude more than the occasional “120 miles from new!” oddballs that crop up. But your car will be as fit, if not fitter than the day it was made.

None of this is going to be cheap, especially as you are still going to be paying a fair amount of servicing costs. Engine oil will still need to be changed once a year, despite the miniscule mileage, and other service items like brake fluid and the timing belt should still be swapped on their recommended time intervals. From its third birthday the car will need an MOT, too – another potentially pricey annual appointment.

Finally there’s the thorny issue of depreciation. Pick wisely and it’s possible you’ll be able to create a unique ‘time capsule’ car that will match or even exceed its original value – I don’t suppose you’d have too much bother getting over £20,000 for a ‘brand new’ Focus RS, for example.

But the sad fact is that many cars will continue to shed value, regardless of how few digits get wound onto the odometer. It would be a brave, foolhardy thing to do – but I bet I’m not the only person who’s considered doing it.

Baby Ferrari's long gestation

Chas Hallett — Tue, 13 May 2008 11:22:46 GMT

When the pictures of the new Ferrari California landed in my inbox this morning I breathed a sigh of relief.

You see we’ve been tracking this car for so long and published so many stories and spy shots that I’m glad it’s finally out in the open and no longer subject to speculation and rumour.

That said, I’m proud to say that Autocar broke the story of the new GT in a world exclusive over three years ago. In fact I’ve just dragged out the issue (12^th April 2005).

I can remember it particularly well as I wrote the coverlines: “New Dino” it screamed (OK allow me some artistic license) and our sources at the time reckoned it would arrive in 2007 (so five months out).

But we got the rest smack on: “two seater”, “called Project California”, “400bhp V8”. Inside the mag, our computer rendering pictured a coupe but we speculated about the folding-metal roof and the positioning of the car – again, all bang on target.

So I suppose it’s time to let the news reporters loose on the next F430.

Read the full story on the new Ferrari California.

New 9-5 can't come soon enough

Hilton Holloway — Tue, 13 May 2008 11:18:55 GMT

On a recent trip to Saab’s Trollhatten hometown, I drove the hour or so north from Gothenburg airport in a 9-5.

I figured it could be last chance I’d get to sample one of the oldest cars on sale. The all-new 9-5 arrives early next year replacing the current model, which was launched in 1997. Indeed, only the Ford Ka, Land Rover Defender and Volkswagen Sharan spare the big Saab’s blushes as the oldest car still in production.

Yet despite its pension book, I’ve always had a soft spot for this big machine, being a particular fan of the interior, seats, turbocharged four-cylinder engines and the crash protection.

On the sunny drive from Gothenburg, it still impressed in many ways, though the steering was hopelessly over-light and chassis floaty and unsure of itself. It’s hard to imagine this bruiser being related to the unloved 1995 Vectra, but it is. The chief engineer on the 9-5 project admitted to me the Saab was “35 per cent Vectra”. But I never found out which bits made up the percentage.

The new 9-5 is already done and dusted, and being polished ahead of its launch in less than 12 months’ time. I can tell you that the new car is big and the styling imposing and polished.

As a critical friend of the company, I hope that the new 9-5 finally accelerates out of the cult scene and into the mainstream. It won’t be easy. BMW and Mercedes have new versions of the 5-Series and E-Class approaching – and the 9-5 will only be Saab’s third executive model in 25 years.

The truth is that only a first-rate driving experience will convince executive buyers to finally look seriously at Saab for the first time.

Dealers play recession roulette

Mike Duff — Mon, 12 May 2008 16:39:29 GMT

If you’re calling about the car, it’s already gone. Selling my 2001 Seat Toledo TDI has delivered a fascinating insight into the dynamics of the modern car market. Main dealers might be filled with tumbleweed and racks of yellowing brochures, but demand for sub-£3000 diesels invokes an analogy concerning hot cakes.

Indeed, despite 93,000 miles and a reasonable crop of stone chips, my Toledo sold to the first punter to come and see it – for just £150 less than the keen price I was asking for it. I’m not surprised: soaring fuel prices mean that a realistic 48mpg is hugely compelling at the bottom end of the market.

But, before it departed, the Toledo also delivered an insight into just why the modern car showroom is echoing to little more than the sound of glum-looking sales executives’ shuffling feet.

Like most punters at car-change time, my first thought was to offload the trusty Seat as a part-ex. And, to cut a long story short, my local Honda dealership offered me just £1100 for it: considerably less than half of what I eventually got, and barely 50 per cent of it’s official trade value according to the industry-standard CAP price guide.

I can only presume that the logic was that, having spent two hours in the dealership getting as far as the derisory offer, I’d meekly roll over and accept it. Of course, I walked: turning the whole thing into a waste of everyone’s time.

Granted, the dealership might not want to have been lumbered with a car it couldn’t sell through its own used approved scheme. But a mate who knows these things assures me there’s no problem getting older diesels “underwritten” for their trade value these days.

In short, a very odd way to (not) do business. And now I’m in the happy position of being a cash-only purchaser, I won’t be heading back to this dealership any time soon.

Technorati Tags: toledo,seat,dealer,honda,sell,mike,duff

No sentiment as Super Aguri folds

Alan Henry — Mon, 12 May 2008 09:47:19 GMT

British F1 driver Anthony Davidson and his team-mate Takuma Sato were thrown out of work last week - along with around 70 people on the workforce payroll - after the Japanese former racer Aguri Suzuki's team crashed last week with debts believed to be in excess of £50m.

By the time the transporters and motorhomes wheeled into the paddock at Istanbul Park, the number of competing teams had been reduced to 10 - and with no real prospect of that number being increased in the immediately foreseeable future. Aguri Suzuki's bid to break into the F1 big-time had proved a game effort, but in truth he was pretty much out of his depth from the start. His team never lacked competence, but always lacked finance.

From the moment they struggled into life in 2006, using re-worked Arrows chassis, one of which had done duty as a show car at Milan airport, they were a day late and a dollar short.

Sato and Davidson generally drove pretty well. They never had the equipment to offer a challenge near the front of the field, but they struggled, my how they struggled. But in the end what killed their hopes and dreams was the F1 community's collective unwillingness to permit so-called customer cars from the start of 2009. It was the same set of circumstances which torpedoed Prodrive's plans to run what would effectively have been a McLaren-Mercedes 'B team' in 2009.

Interestingly, foremost amongst the objectors to customer cars has been Frank Williams. Yes, yes, don't tell me about it: back in 1977 Frank revived his F1 operation by fielding a March 761 on a shoestring budget and held together by hope. Bought from a bloke called Max Mosley, as I recall, who was then sales director for the Bicester-based race car constructors. And manufacturers of customer F1 cars.

Technorati Tags: sata,super aguri,alan henry,mosley,frank williams,customer f1 cars,suzuki,davidson

Superb? It's not far off

Steve Cropley — Mon, 12 May 2008 07:56:31 GMT

If you like big cars and do a fair bit of your driving on British A- and B-roads, you’re going to like the new Skoda Superb, mainly because of the way the suspension suits British roads. I went to the Czech Republic last month to drive the all-new version of Skoda’s biggest model, expecting a solid and well-engineered car (as befits a car whose underbits are also found in the latest VW Passat and Skoda Octavia models) with the usual somewhat stiff-legged German-inspired suspension.

Instead, I found a car with a suspension that could have been tuned specifically for Britain: terrific at soaking up bitumen ruts, Mercedes-quiet over potholes, tolerant of the kind of confused cambers we have in this country, nice to steer, long-legged and economical. The star of the show was the new-to-Skoda, VW-sourced 173bhp common-rail diesel, which gives this bulky car a top speed close to 140mph (hence ultra-quiet cruising at 90ish) yet will surely deliver 40mpg when sensibly driven by the owner. Chuck in limousine comfort, a very well-appointed interior, a boot lid that can also be a hatchback, deep equipment in a three-tier model range and prices that start (for a 125bhp, 1.4-litre litre petrol turbo) not far over £15,000, and you have an appealing car.

Downsides? The size, for some. A Honda Accord in the same class feels much more chuckable. The name, too. I’m not suggesting “Skoda” is laughable the way it was, but VW, Honda and even Ford – all in the same size-class – carry more prestige. Wouldn’t matter to me, though. I’d be proud to drive one of these for a while.

White van man's never had it so good

Matt Saunders — Fri, 09 May 2008 15:06:43 GMT

If so, weren’t you totally knocked sideways by how comfortable, refined, well-equipped, well-mannered, easy-to-drive and actually-remarkably-fast it was?

A couple of house moves recently gave me cause to become acquainted with the rarefied delights of the modern commercial vehicle market. In the space of two months, I had weekends in the latest Renault Master and Mercedes Sprinter panel vans. I did more than 400 miles in both, to-ing and fro-ing from old gaff to new. And not once did I consider myself unlucky to be doing so: it was great fun.

For starters, everyone loves a high driving position, but in today’s cargo-carrier, that comes with decent grip, performance and steering, good economy, surprisingly good refinement, a decently-appointed and designed cabin, and often the kind of equipment you associate with luxo-saloons. Suddenly, careers in construction and logistics look a lot more appealing to me.

The Mercedes Sprinter I drove was particularly impressive, not least because it was Mercedes’ ‘Safety Van’ – a demonstrator designed to showcase many safety systems you can spec on your Merc workhorse that’ll keep it, and you, from a nasty accident.

It had a reversing camera, airbags, antilock brakes with brakeforce distribution, automatic wipers and headlights, a speed limiter and ESP. And it was bright yellow, which must have made it that bit more visible, loaded as it was with beds, fridges, sofas, wardrobes and such, on the southbound M40.

The Renault I drove wasn’t exactly sparsely kitted out either, with sat nav, a CD player, electric windows, and more. Of the two, it was the marginally smaller, more workmanlike device, but the manual gearchange was slick, the clutch light, and the ride quality quiet and pliant.

All things being considered, I reckon the modern commercial vehicle is wasted on builders, plumbers, gardeners, couriers et al. They’re limousines really - they just happen to have a bit more boot space – and it’s a shame they’re not driven a bit more gently, and treated with a bit more respect here in Britain.

Locking is not Impreza-ive

Ed Keohane — Fri, 09 May 2008 10:21:19 GMT

I drove our long-term Subaru Impreza STi home yesterday evening and was impressed by how much smoother and less twitchy it was than its predecessor.

What didn't impress me, however, was the central locking. I left my house this morning with two bags, a coat and a laptop. I blipped the fob and the driver's door opened. The passenger doors and the boot remained locked. I blipped the button again. The driver's door locked. Hmm! I pushed the button twice in quick succession. The driver's door unlocked and relocked very quickly. The boot stayed locked the whole time.

In the end, I reached across the gear stick and put all the junk on the passenger seat.

There is a way to get the boot unlocked, apparently, but Matt Prior, our road test editor, who runs the car on a daily basis, said that it took him three weeks to learn it.

Come on, Subaru. Central locking has been around for ages. We've ironed out all the glitches. Why can't you set it up in the same way as everyone else?

Fortunately, the driver's door is easily opened. Which is good. Because driving this car is the best bit.

Technorati Tags: subaru,key,sti,wrx,central locking

Methanol: round two

Richard Bremner — Thu, 08 May 2008 16:21:20 GMT

Last time I posted a story about the Trifuel Lotus Exige I found myself being accused of acting like some kind of motor industry propagandist for bio-fuels.

But, after talking through some of the comments I fielded with Lotus, I’ve come back to have another go at setting the record straight.

Methanol certainly isn’t a perfect fuel – but it is a viable CO2-neutral, non-fossil source of power. Short of shifting the entire motoring population to battery power, or waiting for the hydrogen economy to get started, it’s as good an alternative as any at present.

Lotus does accept there is a drawback with methanol’s more limited capacity to store energy. Even adjusting for its higher density than petrol, which is not the same, methanol can only store approximately 50% of the energy in a given tank volume than petrol. Therefore, if the use of a fossil fuel is not possible, Lotus reckons that society may need to accept the more frequent refuelling of vehicles.

Lotus also reckons that criticism of the safety of methanol can easily be countered, saying that the Environmental Protection Agency in the US has analysed methanol in some detail. Their modelling shows that if the US moved from gasoline to methanol as the primary fuel, then deaths, injuries and property damage would fall by 90-95 per cent This is because the flammability index of methanol is about the same as diesel, and if lit, a methanol fire will only radiate heat at the rate of 11 per cent that of gasoline.

So if methanol can be made safe, how efficient is it as a fuel? Here are some facts – rather than conjecture – from Lotus: methanol (and ethanol) both give better performance than gasoline – their octane ratings are considerably higher (so more boost and compression can be used), their latent heat of vaporization is higher (meaning they cool the air and so allow more charge mass to flow through the engine), a given mass of fuel and air contains more energy, they reject less heat to the engine structure during combustion and their flame speed is higher.

All of which leads Lotus to conclude that synthetic methanol is the closest easily-renewable fuel to what we have now and as such demands the smallest change to a fully renewable future.

And I wouldn’t disagree. Equally, I wouldn’t underestimate the scale of the conversion task either. But it’s a smaller task than converting the global car fleet to fuel cell vehicles.

They're all safety cars now

Alan Henry — Tue, 06 May 2008 11:27:24 GMT

Without putting too fine a point on it, thirty years ago we would already have published Heikki Kovalainen's obituary had he been involved in the sort of accident which befell his McLaren-Mercedes MP4-23 in the recent Spanish GP. In fact, the car would most likely have exploded like a fire bomb and you'd have swept it all up into a black bin liner once the debris was cool enough to touch.

You may find the foregoing rather stark, some of you may go further than that and brand it as salacious. And perhaps you are right. But it is also totally true and the only reason Heikki has lived to fight another day is thanks to the remarkable efforts expended by the FIA and the F1 constructors to evolve safer cars and safer circuits. In particular, one must pay tribute to McLaren for whom Ron Dennis and John Barnard produced the first carbon-fibre chassis in the business back in 1981.

Just consider the detail of the Kovalainen shunt. It[the car] was destroyed, yes. The front of the chassis broke off. The chassis is wedge-shaped and the team concluded thataa it went in to the barriers until the point at which it snapped. A section of about 450-500mm broke off the front of the chassis, but everything worked as it was supposed to. The car absorbed a massive amount of energy, Heikki received no physical injuries and the circuit emergency staff and the FIA medical team at the track did an absolutely fantastic job in getting him out of the car safely and then looking after him thereafter.

Anybody who considers F1 to be a frivolous business should perhaps reflect on this reality.

Technorati Tags: barcelona,grand prix,kovalainen,spanish gp

The Nissan Bluebird lives on

Mike Duff — Fri, 02 May 2008 13:56:06 GMT

Okay, this is my final blog from the Nissan 360 – I promise. This morning I dug up a current Japanese-spec version of the Nissan Bluebird – or Bluebird Sylphy as it’s now named.

Britain hasn’t had a Bluebird since 1990, when the Primera arrived. But it’s a car that many of us will remember as the ubiquitous ‘90s minicab: for about five years it felt that every private hire trip I took was in the back of a blue-smoking 2.0D version.

Anyway, I digress – but not by as much as you might suspect. Because somehow during the last 18 years and however many subsequent iterations, the Japanese-spec Bluebird still shares some recognisable characteristics with the ones I remember: this must be the last car in the world to feature velour panels on the insides of its doors.

Power now comes from a 2.0 litre four cylinder petrol engine, with drive heading forwards through a standard CVT slusher. Suspension settings are pillow soft and the controls all have Nissan’s trademark 1990 over-lightness.

I drove it back-to-back with an American market Nissan Altima, complete crashy over-hard suspension, feel-free steering and an alarmingly over-enthusiastic launch from its own “sports tuned” CVT transmission. I have to admit that, desperately unfashionable though it is, I far preferred the Bluebird.

And I also suspect that, now the Primera has died, Nissan would find a small but loyal band of buyers if the Bluebird was re-introduced into the UK. If nothing else, it would give minicab drivers something to choose other than the seemingly-mandatory Skoda Octavia.

Toivonen's legacy

John McIlroy — Fri, 02 May 2008 12:33:50 GMT

On this day, 22 years ago, world rallying lost its top driver of the time, and I lost my childhood hero. Henri Toivonen crashed on the Tour de Corse, his Lancia Delta S4 caught fire, and he and his co-driver Sergio Cresto were both killed. He was just 29 years of age; I was 12.

Toivonen, the son of Monte Carlo Rally winner Pauli, was a flawed genius. His spectacular driving style meant that he was often able to score victories in two-wheel-drive machinery, even in an era of Audi Quattros, but it also meant that he was prone to scrapes and incidents.

His character encouraged the latter, too. I remember him injuring himself during the Circuit of Ireland one year, not in the rally car but on a kart track he’d visited mid-event.

The S4 was the car that was supposed to bring him the titles he’d looked likely to claim after winning the RAC Rally in 1980. Henri, finally freed from the shackles of a Rothmans contract that had hampered him throughout much of the early 1980s, won the RAC again on the Delta’s debut in 1985, then started the fateful 1986 season with Monte Carlo Rally glory. He was leading the Tour de Corse – a tarmac event, not the natural surface for a Finn - by over two minutes when he crashed.

Just as F1 reinvented itself after the deaths of Ayrton Senna and Roland Ratzenberger in 1994, so rallying went through a revamp following Toivonen’s accident. Group B cars like the Delta were banned from the end of 1986, prompting technical changes that eventually brought us to the World Rally Cars the sport uses today.

The speeds are higher now than they were in 1986, but the cars are safer; co-driver Michael Park’s death on the 2006 Rally GB was the first at WRC level since that fateful day in 1986.

But if the sport has moved on, why am I marking this day? Purely because this was the moment, 22 years ago, when I realised that heroes are not immortal.

The hardest working 911 yet

Mike Duff — Fri, 02 May 2008 12:30:31 GMT

I've just been hearing about the hardest working Porsche 911 Turbo in the world: the one that Nissan has been using to benchmark the new GT-R against.

Apparently the Turbo (a current generation model) has covered over 30,000 miles shadowing various GT-R prototypes at testing sessions around the globe, including hundreds of laps at the Nordschlieffe. It's even got its own dedicated mechanics to keep it in tip-top condition - Nissan doesn't want Porsche to be able to send a 'fresher' Turbo out at the Nurburgring to retake the GT-R's hard won lap record.

Of course, that also means that Nissan has spent tens of thousands of pounds on genuine Porsche parts including dozens of sets of brake discs and pads.

More amusing, from the point of view of Nissan's development team at least, is the fact the 911's full telemetry kit and roof antenna made it irresistable to spy photographers, with shots of an alleged Porsche prototype turning up all over the place.

The big question now is that of whether Porsche is too proud to reverse-engineer a GT-R with the same brutal efficiency. Don't be surprised if Walter Rohrl is dispatched to the Eiffel Mountains in short order, and in a new GT2, to try and reclaim the record for Weissach, a well-used, grey-imported GT-R trailing in his wake.

Subaru fights for its future

Peter Nunn — Fri, 02 May 2008 11:39:30 GMT

So what does it mean to European drivers if Toyota and Subaru are starting to get closer and will soon start colaborating to build cars together?

Optimists might well reckon the Toyota connection will do something about Subaru’s generally woeful design and fuel economy – long since the two major weaknesses for car’s wearing the Subaru badge. Which would be a good thing, surely?

On the other hand, Subaru seems to be becoming slowly but surely entwined within the empire of Toyota, a far larger company. For a firm that has based so much of its appeal on individuality and going its own way, that’s a considerable risk.

There’s particular interest in Japan at the news that Subaru will be sharing its prized boxer engine with Toyota for the new rear-drive “Toyobaru” sports coupe that the two companies are jointly developing – something that has really raised eyebrows.

A year ago the very idea of a Toyota using Subaru’s unique flat-four engine would have been inconceivable. And to many Subaru fans, it’s a decision tantamount to selling off the family silver.

Of course, those with less emotional attachment might shrug and say a new kind of Celica with a Subaru flat-four engine on board might be kind of cool, and so wonder what all the fuss is about.

The truth is that small, quirky Subaru now needs its tie-in with big, rich Toyota to prosper – maybe even to survive. If sharing the boxer engine is part of the deal that makes that happen it’s a case of shoganai as they say here in Japan: “can’t be helped.”

Is this work?

Mike Duff — Thu, 01 May 2008 15:47:02 GMT

You join me pretty much live from the 'Nissan 360', where i'm typing this sitting in the pit lane at the Estoril circuit in Portugal, next to a ticking GT-R that's cooling down after its last stint of abuse.

So what exactly is this rotationally-monikered event? Pretty much the ultimate toy box, to be honest. Nissan has got together every vehicle it makes, anywhere in the world - from the GTR down to tiny Japan-spec city cars, for journos to have a go in. There's even a Cedric taxi in full-on Tokyo spec, including lace doilies on the rear seat and a set of white gloves to wear while you drive it.

It's all good, clean fun - well, excepting the muddy off-road course where I just did my best to beach a collosal US spec Titanic pick-up. CEO Carlos Ghosn and various other execs are also on hand to drop some broad hints about forthcoming model plans, but at the moment this doesn't feel like work.

The only question is what to drive next...

Where's BMW'S R8?

Chas Hallett — Thu, 01 May 2008 11:45:08 GMT

I love the way the Audi R8 drives, but unless I’m looking at it head on, I just don’t like the way it looks. It’s way too fussy for me and too jarring with angles and panels all over the place.

I was sharing this opinion with a senior motor industry bloke the other day and his response was fascinating. He reckoned I should forget about what Audi’s 911-rival looks like, it’s mere existence proves that the company is leaving arch-rival BMW for dead at the moment.

This is a chap who’s opinion counts for a lot. He’s run three major car companies and also spent a good chunk of his career working for BMW itself. And his perspective is that Munich has lost its direction – and that has allowed Audi to move in and plug the gaps.

He wanted to know where BMW’s mid-engined supercar is. It might not be a big money-spinner, but it would add some much-needed halo status to the brand. Something that, in his view, isn’t being provided by the current range of M-Powered saloons and coupes – nor by the company’s F1 activities.

I’ve got some sympathy with this view. Many of us have wondered why a company that makes such good-to-drive saloons has always struggled with sports cars: Z3 and Z4 anyone?

But they’ve all been strong sellers nonetheless. And is BMW’s image flagging? I’m not so sure. But I’m pretty certain that supercars don’t really solve anything. I’m glad Audi makes the R8, but the company would still have a stellar image if they took it off the market tomorrow.

M1 triggers Procar fantasies

James Ruppert — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 13:25:51 GMT

I became unusually excited at the appearance of BMW’s retro M1 Homage. It wasn’t the reassuringly sharkish demeanour, the iconic ‘M’ initial, or the fact - like the uber-cool original - it was named after our first motorway. No, one word popped into my head that hasn’t been mumbled since the early ‘80s: Procar.

This probably doesn’t mean much to younger readers, but to those of a certain age they are two of the most evocative syllables going, triggering memories of a golden age of mucking around on race tracks in fabulously costly supercars.

Determined to justify the development spend that had gone into creating the M1– a sort of Germano-Italian soap opera that had involved a dalliance with cash-strapped Lamborghini – BMW created the ultimate support series for the 1979 and 1980 Formula One seasons.

The ingredients were simple enough: identical M1s with a testosterone-fuelled mix of proper F1 racers and rich privateers behind their wheels. And as an aperitif to the main event it was utterly intoxicating, and really quite mad: three abreast into corners, massive offs and spectacular overtaking moves.

Hence today’s brilliant idea: let’s bring it back. Get BMW to knock up a couple of dozen of the M1 concept, invite the current F1 grid to prove they have some kind of personality beneath the logo-clad overalls and let’s find out who’s the real deal. I reckon that new, improved version should even allow incompetent motoring hacks like myself to take part for maximum ‘mobile chicane’ potential.

Can you imagine the sound of splintered glassfibre as Kimi and Lewis pile into a slow corner side-by-side? Or the chaos that could be caused by a desperate-to-impress Kazuki Nakijima trying to put a lap on Jay Kay in the wet at Spa?

My only other proviso – and this is essential to the success of the whole venture – is that all the drivers will be compelled to have 1970s haircuts and to wear overalls embroidered with slogans along the lines of James Hunt’s infamous “Sex: the breakfast of champions.”

I’d watch it – wouldn’t you?

Pininfarina's picture looks great

Julian Rendell — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 16:28:33 GMT

Fascinating news from Italy that Tata is to take an ownership stake in styling house Pininfarina – rescuing one of the best-known names in automotive design from the financial crisis that threatened to engulf it.

Pininfarina has designed the bulk of Ferrari’s recent range, and currently builds the C70 and Focus C+C for Ford. And, like Britain’s beleaguered high-street banks, it’s raising money by issuing new shares.

We don’t know how much of a stake Tata will take – but the Pininfarina family will see its current 55 per cent holding (and the control that brings) diluted to about 30 per cent. Tata is likely to share the extra investment with French company Bollore, a specialist maker of electric cars.

Tata has already commissioned Pininfarina to set up a new design centre in India, which raises the prospect of handsome new Tatas with a European design flavour being sold around the world, including the UK. An application of Pininfarina design thinking to the next-generation Nano is an intriguing prospect, too.

But what’s really fascinating about the Pininfarina rescue plan is the involvement of a mainstream carmaker. Design houses usually avoid direct links with manufacturers, because it puts off other potential customers, worried their secret projects will end up in the hands of a rival. Lotus Engineering suffered when Toyota took a stake in the 1980s, and Pininfarina must be aware it is running the same risk.

It will certainly be interesting to see how Pininfarina’s may clients in China view the involvement of a competitor from another developing car-producing country. There’s already little love lost between Indian and Chinese manufacturers, and rivalries will intensify as the global motor industry migrates east.

Pininfarina’s key clients — Ford and Fiat-controlled Ferrari — must have rubber-stamped Tata’s involvement. Ratan Tata is a director of Fiat, as is Sergio Pininfarina at Ferrari and Tata has just spent months negotiating with Ford to buy Jaguar and Land Rover. “It certainly wasn’t a surprise to us,” says a Ford source.

In fact, I wonder whether Tata is a ‘white knight’, encouraged by Fiat and Ford, to ride to Pininfarina’s rescue? Those boardroom discussions between Ford and Tata might just have gone a bit further than we originally thought.

Not driven this week: Keating SKR

Will Powell — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 11:48:04 GMT

Went to the launch of Keating and its “new British supercar” in Southport last week and came away disappointed, but not surprised, by what I saw.

Fledgling Keating decided that no journalists would actually drive its SKR. But from this evidence, it seems to be another under-engineered British sports car with a big American V8, no heritage and an optimistic asking price.

The Merseyside likely lads behind Keating want £90,000-125,000 for the SKR. But that cost is “arbitrary” I was told, so it might be more, depending on ‘what the customer wants’.

So far Keating has built just one, and it’s a machine whose build quality is akin to a hobbyist’s kit car, not a £100 grand supercar. Despite the Ford Sierra switchgear, the interior’s not nearly finished, which makes me wonder if the Keating dream has run out of money and now needs customers, who’ll essentially pay to complete the car’s development. Which would explain the ‘arbitrary’ price.

As things stand, the SKR would tempt only the clinically insane away from an Aston Martin, an Audi R8 or a Porsche 911 Turbo.

But Keating’s press briefing had a good go at convincing us anyway, littered as it was with grandiose performance and reliability claims, which I’m afraid were met with scepticism. One of Keating’s men then got up and said: “Proud British companies are now owned by Germans, Americans or Indians, taking the best of British and using it for their benefit. We’re bringing back the best of British.”

That’s an interesting point of view when you consider that the SKR’s 400bhp V8 comes from Chevrolet of America and that its body shell is made in the Philippines. In the end, we took a passenger ride in the SKR alongside an affable Scouse test driver whose sole qualification for hooning the car along a runway seemed to be that he was pretty handy on the Southport ring road.

It was quick, but not mind-blowing. The dials didn’t work so I can’t tell you how fast we went. But the springs are ridiculously soft - mid-corner bumps would be an unsettling issue. And then, after a few runs up and down the runway, the gearbox went pop and started to spew its oil over the back wheels. So it was game over.

I dread to think how much money has been invested in Keating. In fairness, just building the car is further than most wannabe supercar makers ever get.

If Keating builds a finished, working, marketable car, we’ll be more than happy to test it with an open mind. Who wouldn’t want to see the North West’s new TVR or the next Noble? For now though, Keating’s SKR is some way from getting there.

Land Rover SVX - an extraordinary concept

Ed Keohane — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 10:18:53 GMT

Land Rover's latest incarnation of the Defender will certainly get heads turning... and quite possibly a few stomachs. I saw the SVX soft-top at the Geneva motor show and instantly felt that the Defender’s timeless concept - the flat panels, front and rear beam axles, minimal electrics and hose-clean interior – had been Islingtonised. It’s like finding your local pig farmer has taken to wearing high heels, a tiara and pearls.

Few Land Rover drivers would unflinchingly defend the standard seats and driving position from criticism, but if Recaro buckets are the answer, then I’d love to know what the question was. Yes, sat-nav and iPod connectivity are excellent cabin additions that will have wide appeal; similarly, a bit of damping refinement will be appreciated by anyone who drives in town, where the combination of speed bumps and poor road surfaces presents most 4x4s with their greatest challenge. But what is the point of putting an high-end sound system in a four-wheel-drive soft-top, where you’ll struggle to hear it above 30mph?

I’m delighted that the four-pot Transit engine has proved popular – rightly so – but how does losing a cylinder fit with installing the best part of £10,000 of upmarket kit? I suspect that under Tata’s ownership a ‘UN-spec’ Defender will soon appear. If it’s a soft-top with wind-up windows, I will be the first to rejoice. Even if it's only for overseas consumption.

Technorati Tags: land rover,defender,roll-bar,svx,geneva

California breezin'

Hilton Holloway — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 14:57:45 GMT

It’s hard not to feel better about life, wandering around a neat and tidy southern Californian city with the sun shining. But I can guarantee that you’ll also breath much more easily in this state.

Since the late 1960s, the California Air Resources Board (CARB) has been at the forefront of driving down engine pollution.

It was California that demanded 1975-model year cars achieve massive reductions in pollution. Car makers said they couldn’t meet the targets, but eventually did by detuning engines and embracing the catalytic converter.

Honda, however, met the regulations with its landmark Civic CVCC engine, which was so clean it didn’t even need a cat.

Moreover, CARB effectively banned diesel cars in 2000 when they decided that ‘toxic’ particulates were a serious threat to human health.

Only Mercedes BlueTec engines have recently managed to meet the super-tight Californian diesel emissions regulations.

No surprise then, that California uses buses powered by super-clean Compressed Natural Gas.

UK politicians, particularly Ken Livingstone, make a huge song and dance about micro reductions in CO2, while happily gassing people with belching diesel buses and cabs.

Like many areas in UK life, we get hype, while the rest of the world gets action.

Technorati Tags: california,carb,air resources board,civic,mercedes bluetec