Autocar

New 911 – too good for its own good?

Steve Sutcliffe — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 18:02:43 GMT

As you can read in the mag this week and watch on video by following this link, we’re rather impressed with the all-new Porsche 911. In just about every department, it improves upon a predecessor that wasn’t exactly wracked with problems in the first place.

It’s so good to drive in so many ways, in fact, you wonder if Porsche really needed to go to quite so much trouble. After all, how many owners of regular 911s – and by that I mean not the uber-versions like the GT3s or the various Turbo models that will arrive in due course – are ever likely to use even half as much performance as the new car can summon on the public road?

The Carrera S model that we filmed on Monday is so rapid in a straight line yet so well resolved in its ride, handling, steering and braking etc, it’s hard to think of any car, at any price, that could leave it behind in give and take conditions. Even the mighty Nissan GT-R, you suspect, would struggle to do so unless there was a complete and utter maniac at the wheel.

Yet at the same time, the new 911 has a maturity to its cruising refinement, allied to a brand new level of noise insulation, that makes it a genuine long distance touring car as well. Which is where the Nissan, in particular, begins to fall apart.

In light of which, the £81k asking price no longer seems quite so outrageous as it did when Porsche first announced what the new 911 would cost. The more time you spend with the car, in fact, the more apparent its worth and value become.

Even so, and to play the heretic, I still think it’s massively over-engineered for its target audience. How many times have you seen a regular 911 being properly lent on in the UK in the last 10 years, let alone in the USA, which remains one of the car’s key markets? Not often, I’d wager, yet the latest 911 has been engineered to beat pretty much all comers from A to B.

That makes it one heck of a car, of course, but also one that most of its owners will never get to fully appreciate on the road. T’was ever thus in the world of ultra high performance motor cars, I suppose. And the funny thing is, I’m happy to admit that another part of me hopes it always will be.

But what do you folks think? Is the new faster-than-ever 911 maybe, whisper it, a 911 too far? Or is it actually just another shining example of how far, and how fast, things have progressed in the last 10 years?

Stunned by the new three-cylinder Ford Focus

Steve Cropley — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 14:25:00 GMT

Yesterday I flew to Barcelona to drive the new three-cylinder, 1.0 litre Ford Focus, and discovered a truly remarkable car. You can read my first impressions of it here.

In our game, you usually know what to expect from a new model (a Lamborghini will always be intimidating, look amazing and be dominated by its awesome engine; a Mazda will always have light controls, do everything unobtrusively and be a great ownership proposition).

But the difference between what I expected from this tiny three-cylinder Focus engine and what it delivered was — I’m quite serious about this — one of the greatest shocks of my career.

Expecting a gamely-thrumming, hard-pressed and somewhat worthy tree-hugger's special, I discovered the sweetest, most refined and amazingly long-legged Focus of the entire model range, a car whose smoothness, fine performance and stirring engine-music are going to astonish anyone who drives it for the first time.

I now have two new ambitions concerning the Focus triple. First, to do a lot more miles on favourite roads. Second, to be a fly on the wall when VW's Ferdinand Piech drives one for the first time.

One of these ambitions is probably deliverable, the other looks difficult.

Räikkönen flies on first day of F1 testing

Alan Henry — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 12:22:42 GMT

Kimi Räikkönen set the pace at the wheel of the new Lotus-Renault E20 in the first day’s official pre-season test at Jerez on Tuesday.

Positive, although the 2007 world champion is sufficiently laid-back and philosophical to know that testing – from the viewpoint of comparative lap times in any event – really doesn’t amount to a row of beans when it comes to the wider picture.

Yet better fast rather than not-so-fast. And the re-invented Lotus team will take great comfort from the fact that the Finn, when properly hooked up on an ‘on day’ is probably as fast as anybody out there.

His post-championship blues, which seemed to trigger a gentle decline in his F1 fortunes, were responsible for him making what I can only describe as a mental aberration in the form of a two year sabbatical with Citroën in the WRC.

You can make all the excuses, proffer all the explanations, that you may like for Kimi’s inability to get to grips with that WRC machine, but I believe the Finn always had something of a wayward streak to his character.

In F1 that always manifested itself in huge self-belief and the capacity to push consistently right to the very edge. In WRC the same strategy meant that he regularly used up any margin for error. And frequently went over it.

“The lap times don’t matter today,” said Kimi after his first session at Jerez. “I’m happy with the balance of the car which feels good, and the fact we didn’t have any major issues. I didn’t have any physical problems either.”

Tight behind the Lotus at the end of the first day was Paul di Resta’s Force India, Nico Rosberg’s Mercedes and the new Red Bull RB8 of Mark Webber. It remains to be seen whether a Lotus is ever ahead of a Red Bull again this season. If it is, then the Kimster and his pals will be doing well.

How Mitsubishi's performance saloon will Evo-lve

Mark Tisshaw — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 09:55:00 GMT

As car makers become ever more environmentally focused and car segments increasingly diversify, there are certain types of car that can unfortunately no longer exist comfortably in the present world, but will hopefully live a prosperous second life as a classic. Let’s take the Mitsubishi Evo as an example.

Ignore whether the current Evo X is the best Evo for a second and just think what a car like this stands for. It’s a highly tuned, highly specialised, high performance saloon popularised by (and indeed only in existence as a road car because of) the likes of Richard Burns and Tommi Mäkinen during one of the World Rally Championship’s more memorable eras.

While us enthusiasts may love it (it is really rather blooming brilliant after all, enough to fill several blogs with), Mitsubishi is struggling to justify its future existence. You see, Mitsubishi is keen to start making lots of electric cars and hybrids, and the Evo – with its horrendous fuel economy and CO2 emissions – will be the most high profile casualty of this, probably switching to a diesel-electric hybrid drivetrain for the Evo XI. Hmm.

So where does this leave the current car? While not many of us have bought one new (and why not? It’s got four seats, a big boot and will get you to your destination at least two hours quicker than a diesel Focus), this bodes well for its value as a classic a few years down the line.

Those who have bought them are also likely to be real enthusiasts, who can afford to keep to the Evo’s notorious servicing intervals and want to keep their car standard. Low sales figures also ensure a rarity value.

And who will be buying cars like the Evo as classics when the original keepers reluctantly sell? Classic cars become classics because they are bought be people who idolised them when they were growing up. When they have the money to afford another car as a luxury, these are the cars they invariably crave to own.

So cars like the Evo and Subaru Impreza WRX STI should be guaranteed a second life as classics when the Playstation generation matures into potential classic cars owners. This is a generation that is into cars and knows about cars from playing Gran Turismo; for them, an Evo is far cooler than any Bentley.

While this may not save the Evo as we know it from the axe, there’s still a whole new audience out there ready and willing to discover its charms.

Snow joke

Hilton Holloway — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 16:37:43 GMT

So, I’ve finally experienced a full-on winter’s weekend in the Nissan Leaf. And, since I sold my house last month, I no longer have a home charger. From now on, the Leaf can only be charged at the Autocar office car park.

I left the car park on Friday evening after the Leaf had been given a good, long, recharging session, from our Chargemaster wall-mounted box.

Thanks to low ambient temperatures (it was close to freezing on Friday night), the Leaf’s brain estimated a potential range of just over 70 miles at start up, though that soon dropped to about 65 miles once I’d covered a couple of miles.

The trip back to my newly-rented (and chargerless flat) is 11 miles at a steady 30mph gait, with a short blast up the A3 to Roehampton. On Saturday afternoon, I did a two-mile round trip run to the charity shop (a house won’t squeeze into a small flat…) and another two miles into central London, parking up in Pimlico Green.

When I got back to the car at 10pm, the snow had really kicked in and I found the Leaf wearing three inches of snow on its horizontal surfaces. As I wiped it down for the short run home, a passing dog-walker said “I hope you haven’t got far to go.” Well, quite, but it is the battery rather than the snow that is more of worry. By now - just 16 or 17 miles from leaving Autocar - the Leaf was estimating the range at just 30 miles.

Interestingly, I thought the Leaf handled the snow extremely well, hardly breaking traction and proving very easy to bring to a halt. Certainly I left car behind me for dead as I drove up the snowy incline of Albert Bridge over the Thames.

I’m not sure why this was: it might be because the torque delivery to the wheels is very evenly metered out by the electric motor. The braking at low speeds is also via the electric motor, so the same evenness of stopping power might apply.

On Sunday I took another trip over the river - under three miles as a round trip - and the range was showing just 25 miles; a cold night seemed to have knocked off 20 per cent of the potential range. I almost turned around and re-parked, but thought I should stick to my typical weekend’s activity.

This morning, slightly warmer at 2degC, the range was showing 20 miles. With an easy 11 miles into the office, outside of the rush hour, there should have been room to spare. There was: half a mile from the office, the ‘low battery’ warning flicked on.

By the time I was parking in the Leaf’s parking space, the range had flicked down to 11 miles. (This shows how confusing the range estimator can be. I had travelled just under 11 miles using just 9 miles of ‘range’).

So, in about the worst conditions you can expect in southern England, and after a full charge of the battery, the Leaf gave me 30 miles of driving, with around 11 miles to battery exhaustion. In these conditions, 45 miles seems to the absolute maximum range for the Leaf though, in reality, the risk of running out of juice mid-journey means that the real-world range is rather less.

Clearly, the usability of the Leaf has been seriously reduced by the loss of my home charger. Plugging it in every time it was parked ensured the Leaf was the definitive urban car. Without it, especially in the winter, the Leaf is much less effortless.

Fast Ford Special: the underdog wins for me

Vicky Parrott — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 10:31:36 GMT

It does seem odd, to say the least, that you might line up a 1988, 96bhp Ford Fiesta next to cars wearing such vaunted badges as Cosworth and RS. But we wanted to produce an insight into the more attainable Fords that an enthusiast could enjoy, given that much of the Blue Oval’s performance heritage is increasingly out of reach to most. And if the Fiesta XR2 is anything, it’s cheap and fun.

I became acquainted with the XR2 throughout a long and very un-heritage car friendly drive through a mildly flooded and very dark central Wales, dressed in full ski jacket and winter hat combo because the heater wasn’t working. By the time I got to the destination I was besotted.

The vigour of my appreciation was partly because I was relieved it had made it without the aid of the recovery services that Ford had tactfully handed me the contact details for when I picked the car up. And partly it was because the journey had felt like an adventure, as so few trips in modern cars do. But beyond that it was just a genuinely entertaining car. Simple, lightweight, immediate and characterful.

Is it nostalgia? Of course it is, but I see no harm in revelling in yesteryear, and even objectively the Fiesta was enormously entertaining. Lots of body roll tempered by lots of grip, and a free-revving motor that allows you to rinse every ounce of performance out of it on a regular basis and without fear of imminent death.

Ultimately, if I had a few grand to spare to buy an XR2 I’d do it tomorrow. Actually, scratch that, if I had a few grand spare I’d put it towards a Focus RS and watch the value go up whilst enjoying one of the great front-wheel drive performance cars. Then I could buy a Fiesta in a few years time with the profit. And a long holiday.

But regardless, I was amazed that of the five cars we drove around Wales I ended up most taken with the unpretentious Fiesta. The Focus ST makes an astonishingly good all-rounder if you don’t mind the economy, the Sierra Cosworth hardly needs explaining, and the Racing Puma and the Focus RS both offer a particular style, reward and rarity that appeals to just about every enthusiast.

Maybe it’s the underdog status, or maybe it’s just those epically retro spotlights. Whatever it is, the Fiesta XR2 was the surprise favourite for me.

School run fun

James Ruppert — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 18:43:26 GMT

I’m counting the days – well, it is just over a year – until I don’t have to do the school run anymore. Inevitably it will be replaced by the sixth-form college run, but I’m hoping that there will be a bus involved at some point. For the moment, though, there is no bus, either school or public, to get my nipper to a place of learning.

The added complication to my school run isn’t the rush hour hell in the morning or evening which many experience, it’s the fact that there is a hospital opposite.

Quite rightly there are designated parking spaces for the unwell visitors and healthcare professionals. Some school runners don’t care and park in them as well in as the bright yellow boxes reserved for ambulances. No really. So on some nights it’s gridlock as a fairly narrow road becomes blocked with motoring Mexican stand-offs aplenty.

As the least confrontational person on the planet who usually shrugs shoulders and turns the opposite lock, I have been forced out of the Land Rover (the only real one on the school run, of course) to tell drivers to move along.

How times have changed. I never went to school in a car. Ever. I walked and biked and bussed. So how come we got so soft? And so stupid about parking?

So any comments about school run fun anyone? Should we send ‘em all to boarding school or just make the little blighters walk?

A Golf to kill the battery cars?

Hilton Holloway — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 16:54:17 GMT

The ordinary-looking Volkswagen Golf Mk6 pictured below is actually a prototype running VW’s upcoming plug-in hybrid drivetrain.

I was in Wolfsburg yesterday (where it was minus 5 degrees centigrade under a clear blue sky) and had a brief steer around the local roads.

I know what most of you are thinking: ‘hybrid, shymbrid’. That’s fair enough when hybrids are expensive and often not as economical in the real world as a diesel.

Indeed petrol-hybrids were originally developed by Toyota to deliver better economy in a Californian market that had pollution laws so strict that diesels were a non-starter and a home market that didn’t much care for oil-burners either. Really, petrol-electric hybrids are about low pollution as much as they are about high economy.

This Golf, however, is about coming up with a petrol-electric drivetrain that makes nonsense of zero-local pollution pure battery cars and is still an entirely practical proposition that can be used to drive from one end of the country to the other.

The Golf has a big enough battery to allow the driver to cover up to 31 miles on a single charge of the battery. The engineer in charge wouldn’t tell me what size the battery was, but I’d guess at around 10kWh.

Secondly, it uses a very clever combination of 147bhp 1.4-litre turbocharged petrol engine, punchy 96bhp electric motor, a 7-speed DSG gearbox and a second clutch which can bring the engine in and out of the drivetrain.

Drive away from rest, and the car runs on pure battery power. Shifting up through the DSG gearbox, the Golf runs quietly and seamlessly, feeling more direct in its power delivery and more like a conventional car than the Nissan Leaf.

What’s extremely neat is the way the electric motor is used to spin-up the engine when the driver presses on enough to require power from the engine. Hit the gas and the engine flicks instantly to life, the rev counter needle seemingly running from zero to a steady 2000rpm in the blink of an eye.

Compared to the CVT-driven Prius (which is not only wooden in its ride and handling, but made unpleasant by the droning transmission) this Golf is remarkably normal and fleet-footed.

Having spent nearly a year in the Nissan Leaf, I am increasingly coming around to the idea that the future of zero-emission urban driving lies with new-generation plug-in hybrids. The 30-mile range is enough for daily use (though you really need home-charging to make that work) and the excellent new-generation petrol turbo engine works well for the rest of time. The way it is integrated with the electric motor is particularly impressive.

Really, I can’t see why anyone who wants zero-emission running in town - and can only afford one car - would not go with a car like this Golf. It is far more versatile than a Leaf and it is much more pleasant to drive than a Prius. Moreover, the Golf Mk7 petrol hybrid will also be more fuel efficient in petrol-mode than a range-extender such as the Chevy Volt, as well as having only marginally shorter battery range.

We won’t see the car before mid-2013, but VW’s typical thoughtful and thorough engineering approach could yet substantially steal what market there is for urban-battery power and, depending on price, put a big hole in Nissan and Renault’s EV assault.

The sound of an insurance claim

Steve Sutcliffe — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 14:37:27 GMT

It was half three in the morning and I was fast asleep at the time, body resting, brain fizzing. George Clinton was delivering the milk as usual, in the distance there was the smell of honey wafting across a corn field – which may or may not have been on fire – and for some reason I couldn’t make my legs work fast enough to catch up with George for a chat as he walked away. And then – KERRTHUMP! – a huge juggernaut drove straight into the back of George’s milk-float, and I sat bolt upright in bed, wondering.

But then there was another almighty crash, and this time it was real and just outside our house because I was awake. And I knew instantly what the sound was – that of one car making contact with another, followed by the unique tinkling of glass breaking as, presumably, the remains of a headlight scattered itself across the street.

I fired myself out of bed, ran to the front door, opened it up as fast as I could and couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing – which was a Golf being driven the wrong way up our one-way street, veering from side to side, clouting one car and then the next as it careened its way up the road.

By then it was far too far away to get the number plate. And then a dreadful thought punctured my still slumbered mind; where’s the 1M parked, and has it been clobbered by Mr (or Mrs, or possibly even Ms) stoned-out-of-their-mind VW Golf?

Fortunately the answer was no, the 1M was still in one piece. Unlike the Virgin Media van that was parked right outside our house, or our neighbour’s Peugeot 306, or the TT that lives a bit further up the road; each of these had been smacked, and smacked hard, by the Golf. And yet no one, it turns out, got the number plate.

Our quiet little street in Hove (well it’s a quiet enough street for Hove, put it that way) is still reeling in mild shock, not knowing quite what to do with itself, several days later. But what CAN you do when someone does something like that? Phone the insurance company, fill out the forms, go the police station, get a crime reference number – and then (try to) carry on as if nothing had happened.

Except in two people’s cases they will have no car for the weeks, if not months it’ll take the insurance assessors to put a tick in the box. And then their premiums will go through the roof…and we will all continue to wonder why it costs so much to insure our cars nowadays?

What’s your opinion of driver aids?

MattBurt — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 17:48:00 GMT

Until this week I’ve never been completely sold on the need for the electronic gimmickry – ESP, DSC, ASTC, TSC, call it what you will – that steps in and holds our hands when the roadgoing gets tough.

My Luddite-like distrust isn't an all-encompassing one, because clearly anti-lock brakes, to pick one example, have been an effective and logical safety development.

In fact, I’ve warmed to the potential of driver aids. In deepest Finland yesterday I discovered a new respect for our cars’ electronic trickery (while at the same time uncovering a previously untapped level of incompetence to my driving).

I was taking part in Land Rover’s Nordic Adventure, which involved driving in a convoy of Evoques, Range Rovers and Range Rover Sports through the beautiful snow-covered Finnish countryside to an ice field near Pukinpellontie, a small and brilliantly named settlement about 65 miles north of Helsinki.

On the ice field a variety of courses had been laid out for us to sample the capabilities of Land Rover’s fleet in temperatures as low as minus 23 Centigrade.

Given that the previous time I drove in a snow-bound country I ended up putting my hire car on its roof, I should have felt more secure with Land Rover’s modern driver aids to assist me. With very little to hit on the desolate ice field, I was curious to do some on-the-hoof research into how much of a help they actually are.

The first test was an icy handling course which I tackled in a Range Rover Sport HSE with Dynamic Stability Control (DSC) switched on and L-R’s Terrain Response system on the ‘grass/snow/gravel’ setting, which optimises the engine, transmission, suspension and traction for those surfaces.

In that setting you get a high level of traction control to reduce the chances of wheelspin, an extra slug of torque when you pull away, a more progressive throttle response and sharper gear changes.

While I over-reacted to every hint of understeer or oversteer, I could feel the car’s electronic brain working to moderate a lot of my frantic inputs. Progress around the ice course was almost exclusively in the intended direction.

Next time, I turned off all of the Sport’s electronics. Sure, I could scrabble around the lap, but with all the grace and poise of a drunken puppy on polished lino. It was just as well I had soft snow banks to arrest my progress – if I’d been on an icy stretch of twisty public road, there would have been a substantial chance of being pitched into the scenery.

Drivers with plenty of experience in snow and ice – like most of the five million Finns – would probably make less of a fudge of driving in those conditions without driver aids. However, I’d hazard that many Brits without years of regular ice driving on our roads would struggle.

Curiously, the Range Rover felt quite stable to drive with the Terrain Response set to the desert-friendly ‘sand’ mode. With that system, designed to maintain constant momentum, the traction control system is desensitised to prevent bogging down and all-wheel-drive is locked on, so perhaps it was fairly well suited to the mix of ice and snow on our course.

I’d be interested to read your opinions of driver aids. Have you ever been ‘saved’ from a major tankslapper by your car’s electronic tech? Or are you of the opinion that electronics rob us of a pure, visceral driving sensation?

Are you a shuffler?

Steve Sutcliffe — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 07:05:00 GMT

Without wishing to put too fine a point on it, I am not one of life’s great shufflers. I object to the idea whole heartedly, in fact, especially in public places, in full view of the rest of the world…

I mean how much control can one retain over a vehicle if one decides to ‘shuffle’ it? (I’ve now said the word shuffle so many times inside my head that I’m beginning to lose a grasp on what it means).

What I’m talking about, of course, is the method of steering a vehicle that’s taught not just by every driving instructor in the land but also to our very own police forces – the hand-to-hand shuffle. And yet, as far I’m concerned, shuffling is the most cumbersome, plain wrong way to steer a car that there is – especially if that car that happens to have gone into a slide for some reason.

And so why, can someone please explain to me, is this clumsy, cack-handed, counter-intuitive driving technique still taught to every new driver in the UK? Who says that such a flawed method of steering a car is correct? Who invented the idea in the first place? And why, pray, did any one listen actually to them – and then decide that it was a good idea?

Having spoken to various police officers over the years, I get the mixed impression that some of them know damn well that the shuffling method is silly – although honourably they tend to put up and shut up to toe the line. But there are many others I’ve met who genuinely believe it works.

On the skid pad at Hendon I’ve witnessed officers being taught how to apply opposite lock using the shuffle method, and it looked so obviously wrong it was almost amusing. Amusing, that is, until you realise how difficult it is to control a car when it gets out of shape using this method, and that the average police officer has rubbish car control BECAUSE of the method they’re taught to use.

(And as for the fact that female drivers are statistically better at parking than men – which is what an NCP survey has apparently revealed this week – don’t even go there my friend. Don’t so much as think that it could be true, not even for one quarter of a single second…)

So come on then, how many of you out there are shufflers? And if you are, what’s your excuse?

Mini Roadster – maybe we’re just the wrong audience

Vicky Parrott — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 16:15:26 GMT

I spent a while recently driving around in a Mini Roadster Cooper S, and there’s no doubting that it’s a flawed car. But let’s admit what we all know; nobody considering actually buying one will care. Not even a little bit.

And actually, whilst I have been massively frustrated by the ride quality and interior ergonomics of every single BMW Mini I’ve ever driven, I do see the appeal of the Roadster. I’m sort of just pleased to see another manufacturer paying attention to the two-seat, £20k sports-roadster niche because I’ve always liked the more attainable take on such an indulgent class of car.

I also believe that most enthusiasts will look at this car in the wrong way. Is it as good to drive as a Mazda MX-5? Don’t be ridiculous, of course it’s not. Does it ride and handle properly? No and yes, respectively. Is it desirable? Opinion-dividing, but I’d say without a doubt to the relevant audience.

Which is exactly how I approached it initially. But then with a little time in the car it struck me that this isn’t an expensive Mazda MX-5, it’s a cheap Mercedes SLK (albeit a much less refined one thanks to the fabric roof). The appeal over the hatch is that it is more overtly ‘sporty’ in its looks and dynamics, and you don’t see one just about everywhere. And actually, in these times £21k for a car of this performance and appeal is quite competitive. It’s only £500 more than the substantially less premium and efficient 2.0-litre Mazda MX-5, after all. Or you can pay £10k more for the base Mercedes SLK.

Ultimately, the Mini is a disappointing car to those who’d been hoping for something that will appeal to the enthusiast elite. But it makes sense for the audience that just likes stylish roadsters with premium badges and sporting intentions. Alright, this clearly narrows it down to women. Mostly of the single and wealthy kind.
And another roadster-related note: Who else would be gutted if VW cancels the BlueSport?. If this drives like a Scirocco it could be the MX-5 rival that the Mini Roadster isn’t.

Could time be up for Rubens?

Alan Henry — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 09:31:04 GMT

As the excitement builds steadily in the build-up to the 2012 F1 world championship season, for me the most disappointing sight has been of that great gentleman Rubens Barrichello scratching around trying to find himself another drive in the face of what must seem like slamming doors all round for the personable Brazilian.

Rubens enjoyed a brilliant F1 career, proved that on his day he could genuinely get to grips with Michael Schumacher when they were Ferrari team-mates together. He was also intelligent, consistent and supremely honest; not qualities unreservedly displayed by all professional sportsmen, I’m sure you will agree.

Barrichello was always one of the most approachable of F1 competitors. During his final season with the Stewart-Ford team I sat with him on Ryanair flight from Stansted to Bergamo en route to the ItaIian GP. By then he’d signed his first Ferrari contract for the following year, so I asked him whether he wasn’t worried about being ripped apart by the fans when he stepped off the plane. “They probably won’t recognise who I am,” he grinned modestly. Well, in the years that followed they certainly did come to know Rubens as one of Maranello’s great understated heroes.

Which is why it is so sad to see him in his current dilemma. And why he should now call it a day and hang up his helmet.

Rock On Jenny

James Ruppert — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 12:50:48 GMT

When celebrity car endorsements go bad… that would be Jennifer 'Jenny from the Block' Lopez who, if an internet-savvy anti-nuke pressure group is concerned, loves Iran.

Confused? The Internet is a ship of fools, of course, and the reasoning of this anti-nuclear protest against J-Lo is this.

Iveco, the truck company that's a subsidiary of Fiat Industrial, has been criticised by United Against Nuclear Iran (UANI) for producing vehicles that are on sale in Iran. UANI doesn't like the fact that Iveco trucks have been photographed hauling nuclear warheads around. Mind you, Iveco can't be best pleased about it either.

Anyway, you go from Iveco to Fiat and then onto a Latin temptress who happens to be driving around in adverts featuring a Fiat 500. As tenuous as that seems, it hasn't prevented UANI from laying into J-Lo by producing a spoof version of her Fiat telly advert.

Fiat obviously wasn’t paying attention when a few years back I inadvertently caused the Interweb to break by saying I didn’t rate some Fiats much and oh, giving celebs a 500 to be snapped in wasn’t the most sensible marketing plan.

Satisfied owners of Puntos and Pandas got very excited and left me rather baffled. It should have served as a warning to Fiat not to dip their toes into the curious world of celebrity endorsement. If their cars are good, people are going to say so.

For the fourth year in a row the 500 is business community’s favourite city car. It got a prize and everything. So why bother with an internationally recognised celebrity? These days all we want to know that it does 100mpg, costs nowt in tax and you can get the kids in the back.

So, celebrity endorsements anyone? Here is a truly brilliant one for Lada featuring comedy Gods Cannon and Ball.

The Chinese could learn an awful lot from this as they plan their automotive invasion of Europe: £99 down and a two-year warranty.

Dodge Dart: not for the knuckle-tappers

Hilton Holloway — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 09:58:00 GMT

Perhaps the biggest star at the recent Detroit show was the Dodge Dart saloon. It was the first car to be unveiled on the first press day and was given the full force of American razzamatazz.

As soon as the display Darts were on stage, they were surrounded by hundreds of hacks. Nearly everybody did the same thing: open the door, look at the interior and then run our fingers across the plastic surfaces. Then tap our finger nails on the mouldings.

Then tap the surfaces with a knuckle. After that bit of the ritual, you slam the door a couple of times to get an idea of the quality from the sound it makes on closing. This is such a part of the ‘quality assessment’ ritual that it is even parodied in VW’s current ‘like a Golf’ TV ad.

The general agreement on the show stand was that some of the Dart’s interior was made of very hard, very cheap feeling plastics. ‘A bit bland looking’ said some of the America hacks. ‘A bit cheap in places’. It struck me that, considering the pricing kicks off at $16,000, and it has a base-model 140bhp engine and plenty of kit, the Dart was not a bad deal at all.

So hats off to the bright sparks at Dodge who decided to display the parts of the Dart that the knuckle tappers ignore. A cutaway of the Dart showing the all-important Alfa-derived platform in all its glory was also on the stand, though it remained ignored by most.

The cutaway was mounted at an angle and over a mirror so it was easy to admire the floorpan and rear suspension. No, really. The neat multi-link rear axle was exposed in all its glory, the steel arms bolted to the lovely central aluminium casting, itself bolted to the floorpan.

At the front end was a huge aluminium plate casting bolted to the front floor and front chassis legs, holding the whole front end of the Dart nice and rigidly, which is what you want on a front-drive car. If those front legs are allowed to distort by even a fraction under hard driving, the steering geometry is corrupted and with it, the steering accuracy and feel.

Above ground-level you could also clearly see the big aluminium casting at the base of the McPherson struts (rigidity, again) and big aluminium extrusions forming the low-speed crash structure in the nose.

Here, in exposed form, is the great mass carmaker’s dilemma. Do you spend cash on a nicely slush-moulded interior and lots of soft-feel paint, the stuff that buyers will appreciate in the showroom and on the driveway?

Or do you splash the cash on the undercarriage, spending hundreds of pounds and dollars on multi-link rear suspensions and lovely, rigid, chunks of aluminium, both of which will help secure glowing reviews and please the more appreciative drivers?

Increasingly, the economics of the mass-market are suggesting that you can’t afford to do both, unless you are an industrial giant like VW and benefit from huge economies of scale. Certainly, the big losses being recorded in Europe by Ford and Opel/Vauxhall can be partly explained by the drive to build ever more sophisticated cars that are too often sold at a discount.

Personally, I’d go with the Dart model and trade a plush interior for the sophisticated chassis. But I suspect the average buyer wouldn’t.

1000 miles on a tank - pic highlights

Mark Tisshaw — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 17:28:00 GMT

I started writing a different version of this blog a couple of hours ago. The general theme was based on some of my mathematical calculations, which somehow proved I could have achieved 1013 miles on a sole 55-litre tank of diesel in my Seat Leon Ecomotive.

Clearly, as you’re reading this version instead, real maths proved my maths wrong. So I’ve got no excuses. A lot of you have been suggesting how I could have achieved the holy grail of 1000. Here are three easily achievable things how I think it could have been done.

1. Don’t take a photographer. Snapper Malcolm isn’t a big bloke, but he of course added weight after a couple of roadside burgers and camera kit. Yet without him, you wouldn’t be seeing the fine pictures below. Swings and roundabouts.

2. Do it in the summer, on proper factory tyres. My Leon has winter tyres on, which aren’t the low rolling resistance summer specials it was running before November. This, coupled with some warmer weather to let the car run in, would have made a big difference, particularly as the torrential rain on the hilly part of the M40 and in equally hilly Scotland severely dented the economy.

3. Learn how to slipstream lorries before heading north of Preston. Slipstreaming made a huge difference to the economy, but I only really mastered it around 200 miles into the trip. I’d say only around one in eight lorries is good enough to use for slipstreaming, due to size, speed etc, but there’s also a huge discrepancy in their driving styles. Find a good one to follow for the 100 miles, and the economy will improve considerably.

While I mull having another go, here are some assorted highlights from the trip. Enjoy.

The 55-litre tank was brimmed with 55.26-litres of BP Ultimate diesel. I never made it back to the BP garage next to Kempton racecourse, meaning I missed out on the welcoming party they surely had planned...

Not the best lorry to slipstream, but it was carrying some familiar-looking cars. It was soon after the M55/M6 junction that I began to learn the art of slipstreaming.

Absolutely no danger of giving this friendly chap another form to fill in.

Staring at the fuel gauge and trip computer became an obsession. It caused some odd facial expressions, too.

Thanks for this friendly advice, Scottish matrix sign. Acknowledged.

The 500-mile turnaround point just south of Brechin. Note the fuel gauge has an indicated half a tank left. If only it was to be believed.

Day one ended back in Carlisle. Next morning, the emergency £6.99 jerrycan was purchased and filled with five litres of diesel. Shame it had to make a later appearance.

Breakfast took place in the glamorous surroundings of the Carlisle Travelodge car park. If you want anything other than a roll/burger/sandwich on the route we took, you're out of luck.

An uneventful first 100 miles down the M6 on day two ended when a Lithuanian lorry driver T-boned a fellow Seat Leon Ecomotive driver. No-one was hurt, luckily. The Leon was less fortunate.

The Highways Agency closed the road to allow the accident to be moved to the shoulder. This parking spot proved to be a dress rehearsal for the events of a couple of hours later.

This message came up after 847 miles. We would travel another 78 before it finally gave up.

Having sampled Burger King, McDonalds, KFC and various petrol station offerings along the way, I can recommend a Burger King Steakhouse Angus highest. Sadly, Little Chef was unable to take part in this side story as all of them were closed.

The 900-mile milestone was not one we expected to see when the range clicked over to zero after 847 miles.

The inevitable finally happened just before J11 of the M40, almost directly opposite Prodrive's Banbury headquarters.

This looks scarier than it actually was, although it's not something I plan on repeating. This trip took range anxiety to a whole new level.

The final total - 925 miles. It was achieved in 18 hours 42 minutes, at a claimed average economy of 72.9mpg and average speed of 50mph.

Free space road design, yes or no? Discuss

Steve Sutcliffe — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 09:21:50 GMT

Do you think free space road designs, such as the one that’s been in situ on Exhibition Road in London for the last few years, could ever work on a broader scale throughout the UK?

It depends, surely, on the attitudes of the people who use, and occasionally abuse, the spaces in which they find themselves, does it not? Which means ‘yes’ for most of the time, but also a very big ‘no’ from time to time as well. And when the word ‘no’ applies to free space road thinking, the consequences will inevitably be grim.

The brainchild of former civil engineer, Hans Monderman, free space road design works on the principle that all drivers – and pedestrians and cyclists alike – will become more responsible for their actions if the normal architecture of the road is removed. Everyone has a right of way if there are no zebra crossings, traffic lights or guard rails to suggest that they do, in other words.

Instead, everyone ends up behaving in a more civil manner – in theory. Drivers drive more slowly, looking into the eyes of pedestrians before they cross; and in turn pedestrians don’t just wander into the road, headphones ablaze, oblivious of the perils of the road – because if they do they know it might be curtains. The space is shared by everyone in it, and far less accidents occur as a result. Which is great, of course, so long as everyone signs up to the idea, and respects it.

But what happens in a free space road design if you introduce an impatient, self-impressed BMW X6 driver into the environment, who gives not a monkey’s about anyone else on the road? Unfortunately, all the good intentions go straight out of the window, and what was previously a chilled bit of road rapidly becomes a minefield of pent up aggression, as drivers become frustrated, and then downright angry, because they’ve somehow lost ground to the next car. At which point horns begin to blow, cheeks become crimson, and brand new words explode their way into the ether.

Even Hans Monderman admitted that you will ‘never be able to change the behaviour of the 15 per cent of drivers who will behave badly, no matter what circumstances they may find themselves in.’

Yet the way I see it – in London especially but increasingly throughout the rest of the UK as well – it feels like that percentage is higher. I’d say a good 25 per cent of drivers where I live on the south coast are of the ‘don’t care, me first’ variety.

And the true irony is, we have MORE cameras, signs, traffic lights, zebra crossings, guard rails and detritus, telling us what we can and can’t do with our cars, our bicycles and our feet, than just about anywhere else in the UK. And we have WORSE traffic congestion as a result.

There is a solution, of course. Next time you could choose to let that person have that gap if they so wish. No problemo amigo, you just carry on. In the grand scheme of things, everything might turn out better if you do. And we might all reach our journey’s end, not just faster but feeling better about life generally into the bargain.

But not that bloke in his X6, don’t give him an inch. Don’t give him a centimetre – because he wouldn’t give a millimetre back to you. And how easily the system breaks down.

Are you speed aware?

Matt Saunders — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 09:35:27 GMT

Last night, I didn’t get three points on my licence. Which was nice – particularly since, after a Notice of Intended Prosecution plopped through my letterbox the other week, I’d been prepared for an addition to my collection.

Instead, I gladly paid up to go on a three-hour ‘Speed Awareness Course’. And I wouldn’t want the occasion to pass without finding out if the class’s experience of these educational opportunities is similar to mine.

The case for attending these things is utterly plain. Instead of paying your £60 fixed penalty and getting your points from the relevant authority, you book a course online with AA DriveTech, choose a date and time that’s convenient for you, and pay £97 for the privilege. Which is probably less than the increase in insurance premium that you would otherwise have to stump up if you took the points. So far, so un-quibble-able.

I showed up last night at an address in Ealing, West London, totally sure that, no matter what happened over the succeeding three hours, I was onto a winner. I was ready for my medicine. And it was unexpectedly palatable.

The course was conducted by a very jovial bloke called Patrick, who did a lot to diffuse the latent skepticism in a room full of people aggrieved about being caught speeding (mostly through the Limehouse tunnel, actually) and only begrudgingly grateful for the chance to avoid a lasting penalty.

Unfortunately, Patrick made a better joker than a teacher. In fact, the more I think about it, the more important this three-hour course seems – and the greater its deficiencies appear.

In a country where a licence is for life and we’ve yet to even mandate compulsory retests for pensionable drivers, it’s not often that you’ll get thirty average members of the driving population in a room, and have the opportunity to make them better. But this was one of ‘em.

You’d think, under the circumstances, you might mention one or two of the right things. The importance of maximum brake pedal pressure to a short stopping distance in a modern car with ABS, for example? Or of allowing additional stopping distance in bad weather? Of safe overtaking technique? Of checking the condition of your tyres occasionally? Or, say, of positioning your car on a rural road in order to maximize your visibility?

Patrick didn’t mention any of these things. He didn’t know that a minimum speed limit on UK motorways even existed, let alone what it might be. His three hours of advice included rather too much on how not to get caught for speeding in future, and rather too little on how not to get caught in accidents.

Here are some of Patrick’s choicest pearls:

“Don’t listen to fast music in your car; it’ll make you drive faster.”

“Leave your car in third gear in a 30 limit; it’ll be easier to hear the engine, and so you’ll instinctively know when you’re speeding.”

“Stop making up your own speed limits. It doesn’t matter where you are: if you can’t see a speed limit sign at any point, drive at 30mph until you see one. It’s safer.”

“You should never stop looking for pedestrians. I even look under trucks and buses!”

And this one was my personal favourite:

“If you’ve got to drive somewhere you’ve never driven before, try to go at least once before you really need to go – just so you’re not lost or rushing when you get there.”

Patrick did tell me one or two interesting tidbits. Most fixed speed cameras no longer flash, apparently – they work via infrared. So you won’t know if you have, or haven’t, been had. There are just over 600 fixed cameras in the London Metropolitan area, but only 150 are active at a time. And, at one point not too long ago, it only took four fairly serious accidents to happen in roughly the same place to convince the local authority to plant a camera. Which, in a busy city like London, doesn’t seem like many.

Considering how easy it is to get caught out on UK roads, I suspect last night’s course won’t be my last. I can’t do another one for three years – but after that, if necessary, I’ll sign up for more indoctrination. I only hope that next time, it’s all worth listening to.

1000 miles on a tank - game over

Mark Tisshaw — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 14:48:18 GMT

I didn't manage to travel 1000 miles on a single tank of diesel in my Seat Leon Ecomotive. I failed.

But flip the question and ask how many miles can you do on a single tank of diesel, then the answer - 925 - is pretty darn impressive.

The inevitable happened at 1.34pm just before J11 on the southbound M40, just outside Prodrive HQ in fact. But this was much further than I thought we'd get an hour earlier when the fuel gauge clicked over to zero; the M6, M6 Toll, M42 and a part of the M40 all came and went before the Leon finally gave up.

For those wondering what happens when a modern diesel engine runs out of fuel, it just stops. No warning or a misfire, just a loss of power and a complete shutdown.

This happened at the top of the hill, with no-one behind so it was simply a case of knocking it into neutral, and moving a metre to the left in the hard shoulder before switching on the hazards.

Five litres of diesel from the emergency/essential jerrycan later, and it coughed back into life, but not before flashing 'engine failure' and a gentle push down the hill from photographer Malcy.

Within a mile of the restart I'd reacquainted myself with the outside lane and 70mph, despite lots of previously nice looking lorries to tuck in behind. Acceleration, how I've missed you.

So, those final numbers. We travelled 925 miles in 18 hours 42 minutes, at an average economy of 72.9mpg and an average speed of 50mph.

We'll treat you to some better pics of the trip and my final economy reflections and sums before the week is out. Time for a burger and a snooze in the meantime.

1000 miles on a tank - update #3

Mark Tisshaw — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 12:09:00 GMT

Isn't it amazing what you can achieve in a morning? Just in case a 164-mile drive down the M6 from Carlisle to another generic service station wasn't enough, I've also found time to be a witness in a traffic accident.

A car was T-boned by a lorry driver, and got wedged on the front of the Lithuanian loader before ending up on the hard shoulder. Luckily, no-one was hurt and amazingly no-one else was involved.

And shockingly, despite there being at least 10-20 witnesses, I was the only one that stopped. What's that all about? Maybe they were worried about what the extra braking and accelerating would do to their economy...

Anyway, this was not just any car that got T-boned: it was a Seat Leon Ecomotive, driven by a nice chap on his way to Derby. We swapped economy stories (he regularly exceeds 70mpg) and details before I got on with what's likely to be the last leg of the 1000-mile run.

When I pulled into the car park of the services, the indicated range clicked over to zero. So I'm probably/definitely (depending on your optimism) not going to make the last 153 miles.

This is despite an improvement in the overall economy of today's run. The morning's 164 miles were covered in 3hrs 18mins at an average speed of 50mph, returning 75.9mpg. This has brought the overall economy figure up to 72.8mpg.

We're now so light on fuel I swear I can feel the extra weight of the jerrycan in the boot. The new goal is 900 miles – thus exceeding the claimed theoretical range – then to see how far we get.

New BMW M6: this much we already know

Steve Sutcliffe — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 10:25:34 GMT

When I spoke with Carsten Priest, aka Mr M, on the launch of the new BMW M5 last year, he told me a fair bit about the forthcoming M6.

And I got the impression at the time that, if anything, he was even more proud of the work his team had performed on the coupe (than the saloon) because they’d had a bit more freedom to let rip.

'Because it’s a coupe, it will naturally appeal to a more sporting audience, which is why we’ve gone maybe 10-15 per cent further with the tuning of the dynamic performance,' said Herr Priest of the M6 last October.

Yet the one thing his team won’t have been able to do much about is the fundamental weight of the car. And for the average M-car engineer, weight is the ultimate dilemma nowadays, especially when it comes to the current 5/6-series platform (beneath the skin they are the same car) which is almost 150kg heavier than before.

So although M Division’s engineers did ‘everything we could to reduce the car’s weight during the engineering process’ they knew they had one hand tied behind their back on this occasion.

The result will be a hugely more refined M6, no doubt, and a gigantically rapid one, too, if the latest M5 is anything to go by. But whether it’ll contain the agility and slightly crazed response of the previous model – which I ran for six months way back when and, irritating gearbox aside, fell for in a very big way – is another question.

I suspect that, one day, maybe in 10 years, the V10 M cars might just end up being remembered with more affection than those that replaced them – even if they were a little bit on the mad side to drive, had rubbish touring ranges and were virtually impossible to park.

Then again, I’m sure the new M6 will be a cleaner, more ecologically sound and, of course, a much better everyday car than the one it replaces; Herr Priest admitted such intentions to me late last year. So who knows how history will regard it come the year 2022?

1000 miles on a tank – update #2

Mark Tisshaw — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 09:33:09 GMT

So, day one is behind me, and my glass is either a quarter full or three quarters empty on the 1000-mile Seat Leon challenge. I’ve made it back to a Travelodge just south of the Scottish border facing another 318 miles before I can fill up again at the BP garage near Kempton racecourse in Surrey.

But I’ve only got an indicated quarter of a tank of diesel left, with a claimed range of 195 miles. Or enough to take me about as far as Birmingham, if it is to be believed.

Yesterday, 682 miles were racked up in 13 hours 48 minutes, at an average speed of exactly 50mph. Economy wise, the Leon returned an indicated 72.0mpg, which puts it within spitting distance of the 74.3mpg official combined figure. But again, short of the 80mpg or so maths says I need to complete to challenge.

Do I still think I’ll make Kempton? When I turned around exactly 500 miles north of the BP garage, the fuel gauge was exactly halfway. ‘Great,’ I thought, ‘should be easy.’ But that was before the Scottish heavens opened again and various roadwork diversions onto slip roads caused me to have to negotiate more roundabouts than originally planned.

It has also answered a question in my head that I already unofficially knew the answer too: fuel gauges always make the first half of tanks seem like they’ve lasted longer.

My optimism of even 7pm last night, when we turned around in that layby just south of Brechin, populated only be two litter bins and a sinister fence (not the welcoming party I had hoped for/expected), has now been replaced by a more realistic outlook.

Tisshaw's welcoming party at Brechin

If I can make it over 900 miles, I’ll be chuffed. But with the mysterious ways that fuel tanks and claimed electronic readings work, I’m no way discounting completing the 1000 miles, even if I had to buy a ‘just in case’ jerrycan of diesel at a garage this morning.

Just in case...

Wherever I end up, the real star has been the Leon. Even after 14 hours on the go, it was a comfortable, quiet and fuss-free companion. If it can just add an ability to travel 1000 miles on one tank of diesel to its repertoire, I’ll stick my order in for one tomorrow.

Follow me on Twitter @mtisshaw to see if I achieve the 1000-mile challenge.

1000 miles on a tank – update #1

Mark Tisshaw — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 13:15:00 GMT

So at lunch on day one at Chorley Services, the mighty Seat Leon Ecomotive has covered just over 220 miles. Just looking at the fuel gauge – which sits between three quarters of a tank and full – would indicate we'll get back to Teddington tomorrow with just under half a tank left.

But of course, that's not going to be the case. Looking at the trip computer – and I’m still trying to work out if it is my friend or not – it would indicate we'll run out of fuel just past Birmingham on the way back.

The range is just under 700 miles, but as recently as 25 miles ago it was telling me I had 775 miles left. Economy took a hit in torrential rain on the M40 this morning, dropping from the 72mpg indicated in the early stages of the M25 to around 65mpg.

But some speed restrictions on the M42 and the ability to go at my own pace on the M6 Toll and subsequently deserted – and flatter – section on the northbound M6 has recovered it to around 72mpg.

A few things I've learned so far: the Leon’s tank is greater than 55 litres – I squeezed 55.something in it this morning when it was still showing a 50-mile range.

Next, my right foot must not move from its fixed position. Any movement, especially uphill, makes economy take a nose dive. Brakes are also a no no, but I've only pressed it four times: oddly, twice for badly driven Nissan Micras, once at the M6 Toll and one just now at Chorley.

Quick lunch with snapper Malcolm Griffiths

My biggest enemy will be the rain. It made a noticeable difference on the M40 and has just started up again as we head further north. Whatever happened to that famous northern January sunshine?

1000 miles on a single tank

Mark Tisshaw — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 08:19:02 GMT

So, if I am to travel 1000 miles on a single tank of diesel in my Seat Leon Ecomotive, here’s just a taste of what I should do: tape up the shut gaps (only if I’m desperate on the way back), empty the glovebox (done), have a haircut (thanks for the reminder), drive at off-peak times (how busy can the M25 be at 8am?), keep revs below 1700rpm (noted) and wear shorts (have you seen the weather forecast?!).

That’s just the start. I also have to: avoid hills and cold weather (I forgot to mention I’m driving to Scotland…), not always use top gear (fifth gear?), burn a fire beneath the engine before starting to warm it up (just no), don’t use the radio (let’s hope I get on with photographer Malcolm), drive at 56mph (this is quite likely), pump up the tyres (done), limit braking and acceleration (good advice) and remove everything that isn’t bolted on (I lost the parcel shelf six months ago…).

And if all this fails, I’m to change my sleep patterns (I’m writing this blog at 11pm before a 6am start), warm the engine before brimming (good tip), fill up at the coldest time of day (frost forecast tomorrow), and use a premium diesel (also a good tip).

And that’s just a taster of what you told me; thanks for such a great response yesterday. The route? Well, in the interests of spontaneity, I plan to leave Autocar’s Teddington car park at 7am tomorrow, head to the nearest filling station and then drive exactly 500 miles north. By my calculations, there’s a nice little car park just north of Dundee that I’ll be turning around in tomorrow evening.

Then, back to Teddington. All being well, I’ll be back Wednesday afternoon after stopping Tuesday night around Carlisle on the way back down. With a few nervy moments on the down, coupled with the image of a slowing moving fuel gauge drifting anticlockwise.

I’ll be updating on autocar.co.uk to let you know how I get on, or you can follow me - @mtisshaw - on Twitter for progress. Sweepstake on how far I go? I’ll go first: I reckon I’ll make the 1000… just.

I've fallen in love with green laning

Alex Kersten — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 16:51:00 GMT

Last weekend I discovered my new favourite weekend hobby: green laning.

If you’re unfamiliar with the concept, here’s a succinct synopsis borrowed from www.dataip.co.uk/RoW, a dedicated website: ‘a hobby involving the driving of vehicles on the public highway. This is no different than the daily activity of every other motorist, however, it is just that the 'Green Laner' chooses to drive generally on unsurfaced roads.’

To get started, here are the things you’ll need:

1) A 4x4 – locking diffs help, but aren’t essential. The same goes for off-road tyres. If you’re after something cheap for the weekend, take a look at this Vauxhall Frontera, which comes with a 12-month ticket. If that won’t do, this purpose-built Land Rover Discovery is more than up for the job.

2) An OS map – green laning websites mark permitted driving routes with grid references. Here’s a good example.

3) Wellies and tow rope, especially if it has rained recently.

4) Spatial awareness. Lanes can get very narrow and at the end of some of them you can also find metal width restrictions to keep illegal fly-tipping vans at bay.

5) Respect for the countryside: rogue off-roaders commonly navigate off permitted lanes and destroy protected land. Ultimately, this leads to the closure of green lanes.

With everything in place, the only thing left to do is to find some local green lanes and enjoy the experience.

My 4x4 weapon of choice – this Volkswagen Amarok pick-up – was a cracking companion, if a little wide at 6.5 feet. It climbed, swam and ploughed along despite its uninitiated driver and surprisingly small, but capable 2.0-litre TDI unit.

Next week, however, the Amarok will be back at VW. And me? I’ll be at home scouring the small ads for a cheap 4x4. Who’s with me?