Our cars

My 500 finally arrives

Colin Goodwin — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 10:36:11 GMT

Last week I drove a Ferrari worth £3.5m. It looked gorgeous and was brilliant to drive. To cap off an excellent day I flew there in the kite and did a two hour car journey in 40 minutes.

I thought life couldn’t get much better, but it just has. Two hours ago we collected our new Fiat 500 from our local Fiat dealer. This is the first time that I’ve bought a new car (Mrs G actually bought it) and it’s a fantastic experience. Of course we motoring journalists are immensely lucky to drive the world’s greatest cars for free; often for months on end. Editor Hallett has just run a Jaguar XKR for a year and I once had a Lotus Elise for two. But even going to Hethel to collect the Elise that I had specced up myself doesn’t match the feeling of collecting my own motor, bought with a sizeable portion of my hard-earned.

Of course the Fiat is now worth a grand less than it was two and a half hours ago, but so what? The only snag is that I’m going to be more nervous driving it than I was in the Ferrari.

Gloves off!

Ed Keohane — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 11:53:17 GMT

I've just been stuck in a traffic jam for 25 minutes on the way to work in the Freelander. I left my ipod lead in Istanbul and didn't fancy what I could find on the radio, so I was getting pretty bored... And then I noticed a pair of skiing gloves in the door compartment.

Land Rover has always boasted that you can fully operate the most road-biased of its vehicles in work gear, so I decided to put it to the test. Gloved up, I tried every button I could see... and it's the full 10/10.

The only ones that looked even vaguely 'touch and go', if you'll excuse the pun, were the heated screen switches nestled in the air-con dials. But they were a doddle.

Now where can I get hold of an astronaut suit?

Clubman draws a crowd

Richard Bremner — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 15:36:23 GMT

Not since I was lucky enough to drive a Ferrari 512TR into the market square in Marrakech have I driven a car that provoked so much conversation from passers-by. Or fellow drivers in traffic jams, in fact; a bloke in a classic Mini got out of his car while I was queuing at traffic lights to ask me what I thought of the Clubman, before hopping back into his tiddler when the lights changed.

Last week I took Autocar’s new long-term Mini Clubman out on a photo shoot, and was accosted – in the friendliest way - by three mothers and a couple of guys from the local council, one of them already the owner of a Cooper S. After a thorough inspection, he said he’d be recommending a Clubman to a mate pondering a purchase. That might have been one sale; another came from one of the mothers, who asked if she could see the rear seat to check whether it would accommodate a baby chair. Satisfied that it could, she said she’d be asking her husband to order one. Lucky her. It's good to see that affordable cars can still provoke interest like this.

This reminds me of some words I read in this magazine years ago, about a fellow journalist who was one of the first to venture out in a Morris Minor Traveller (actually an ancient cousin of this Mini) and found that it prompted more interest than the Maserati the magazine had on test that week too. If affordable cars are exciting enough, they can trigger as much desire as (and possibly more than) any shiny new supercar.

Technorati tags: Mini Cooper D Clubman, Richard Bremner, Ferrari 512TR

Mondy fills me with the joy of specs

Mike Duff — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 14:02:07 GMT

A weekend spent in a fully loaded Mondeo has given me a chance to test out the upper reaches of the options list. And I've come away pretty happy with the choices I made in speccing my slightly less plush example.

First up, the automatic gearbox - which adds £1100 to the price of a manual Titanium X and which knocks 10 bhp off the 2.0 TDCI motor's power output. I rarely see the point of diesel-gargling slushers for anyone other than minicab drivers, and the Mondy's dull-witted transmission didn't do anything to convert me. It also knocked the 2.0 TDCI's already disappointing fuel economy back to a very underwhelming 33mpg.

I'm similarly glad that I didn't opt for the sports suspension (£150), which adds too much of an edge to rougher road surfaces. And although I was quite tempted by the good-looking 18in alloys (a £350 upgrade), I doubt they'd have done much for my Mondy's bump-absorption either.

Inside I'd advise against the power operated seats (£250 for the driver's only, £500 for driver and passenger). They're noticeably less comfortable than the non-electric ones, you sit higher and the cushion is harder. Similarly I can't see the point in privacy glass (£150), the solar reflect windscreen (£150) or the dazzlingly useless keyless entry (£175) - which failed to recognise my right to gain access on any of the occasions I attempted to use it. The adaptive cruise control (£1000) did work, but it seems expensive considering how rarely I reckon I'd use it.

The only thing that had me really tempted was the bi-xenon headlamps - not because of the blue bulbs themselves, but because they also come with the headlamp washers that my car so sorely needs to blast off winter salt.

Other than that, I'm feeling glad I kept it simple. Satnav, Bluetooth and parking radar are all the Mondy needs.

Technorati tags: Ford Mondeo, specification, options, Duff

At last - the DIY system diagnostic tool

Richard Bremner — Thu, 03 Jan 2008 12:48:01 GMT

One of the curiosities of buying a classic car is that you suddenly become interested in the most arcane aspects of your beast’s welfare, and find yourself reading – and enjoying - stuff about your car that you wouldn’t dream of looking at if you weren’t an owner, much of it found in club and single-marque magazines.

That's how I came to be reading a ‘how to’ story on overhauling the front suspension of a Jaguar XJ-S, an example of which I bought last year. But the story that caught my eye in ‘Jaguar World’ was about vehicle diagnostic systems.

My XJ-S pre-dates today’s era of On-Board Diagnostic (OBD) sockets, but I know I’m not alone in worrying about the impossibility of carrying out any significant repairs to modern cars because they’re so stuffed with electronics. OBD sockets began appearing in 1996 for models sold in the US, and in all European cars from 2001 if they’re petrol and 2003 if they’re diesel.

Their primary function is to analyse the car’s engine management system for emissions-related faults, but modern systems can interrogate everything from ABS systems to climate control and even your electric seats. With the right equipment, you are potentially able to analyse all kinds of faults in your car, and potentially fix it by replacing the offending item, whose failure will be revealed through so-called fault codes.

The problem is that the right equipment is aimed at busy dealers, who buy a system called Autologic that can cater to almost every make and model – but at a price way beyond the pocket of a DIY-er.

But now there’s a system by an outfit called Auto Enginuity, a PC-based auto diagnostic system for under £200 that does most of what Autologic will do. It can interrogate the built-in memory of these more recent models, including essentials such as the state of the catalyst’s oxygen sensor that governs much of your car’s engine management activity and, if you buy an additional package specific to your car, the sensors and systems covering peripherals such as air conditioning, ABS and ESP. Around £20 may sound a lot, but it will be by far the most powerful tool in your kit, and allow you to understand your post-2001 motor like never before.

You can find out more at www.gendan.co.uk , but it’s good news for those who’ll be wanting to keep 21^st century cars on the road when many consider them past their ‘best before’ date.

Technorati tags: On-board diagnostics, classic car, Bremner

Honda's designers should spend longer on the M1

John McIlroy — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 09:50:37 GMT

If I’ve learned one thing over the last 12 months, it’s that they clearly don’t have salt-encrusted motorways in Japan. How do I know this? Because I’m the custodian of Autocar’s long-term Honda Civic Type R, and if the engineers who signed off its rear windscreen had ever sampled the aforementioned conditions, they’d have had second thoughts.

The Civic’s hatch, you see, is a mixture of glass and plastic, split by an enormous body-coloured spoiler. Which is fine, until you try to see out of it; not only does the spoiler block most traffic from your rear view mirror, but the surface picks up motorway grime like no other – and there’s no rear wash/wipe to keep it clean.

Just goes to so, I suppose, that the Japanese don’t think of everything after all. And that they should send their design bods to spend a week on the M1 every December.

Technorati tags: Honda Civic, rear wiper, McIlroy

Seats with memory

Ed Keohane — Wed, 28 Nov 2007 11:15:00 GMT

I've never run a car that has a memory function on its electric seats and mirrors. In fact, most of the cars I've owned have stick-your-hand-out-of-the-window mirror adjustment. But the Freelander has the works. And I think that's great. Why? Because, when you lend the car to a colleague, as I regularly do, there's nothing better than getting back into the driver's seat and pushing one button to put everything back the way it was when you handed over the keys.

Update no.2 on the rubbish in my field

Chris Harris — Wed, 28 Nov 2007 10:42:36 GMT

For some reason the E28 M5 has decided not to start. It will therefore be shipped off to the garage next week. Better news for the Volvo 850 wagon and Peugeot 205 XS (combined value: very little indeed), they’ve both passed their MOTs. The bad news being that the bill isn’t far short of that combined value figure. Why is it I always stump the cash to get these things sorted, then decide to debate when an old car needs to be left to die?

The silver 3.2 Carrera is in storage: rather hope to keep it because they are good news just now. The tax man may have different plans. That leaves the brilliant new BMW M3 – about which you will have seen the video, and will soon read in the mag - and the green project 911 that continues to fascinate me. It now has over 310bhp, weighs just under 1000kg and revs to 7000rpm. A video will follow in the next few weeks.

The Mercedes W124 E320 Cabrio is about to go into hibernation for the winter (I have barely used the thing this year and suspect it might fall first in the annual Spring purge) and the dog has found a new home in the boot of the Defender.

Technorati tags: Harris, Peugeot 205, Volvo 850, Mercedes E320 Cabrio, Porsche 911

My Japanese MX-5 is behaving like a proper British sports car. Oh dear...

Peter Nunn — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 12:50:08 GMT

Critics of the Mazda MX-5, and they are around, don't have much time for this seminal lightweight sportster. They decry it as a great British sports car rip-off. Well I've got one, and I've also got a couple of issues with that particular observation: MX-5s don't normally leak oil and they always start, so they can't be that flagrant a rip-off.

Being an ex-Triumph TR4A owner, I know all about pools of oil on the garage floor, jump leads, tow-ropes, push starts, the whole nine yards (which, coincidentally, is about as far as my old TR often used to want to travel).

So imagine this, if you will. Back in November 1998, I buy a brand new six-speed Mazda Roadster 1.8 RS (as they're known here). I'd never owned a car in Japan before, or a convertible. I just loved the design, involvement, balance and all-round affordability of the MX-5. And I loved the way it started in the morning.

For the first six years, the MX-5 was peerlessly reliable. Then came the clutch hydraulic problem which on hot summer days made it impossible to change gear. Mazda itself knows all about this fault but my local dealer here in Tokyo professed ignorance.

Even so, all the way through, my Evolution Orange Roadster has not dropped a single drop of oil. Nothing. Never. And it has always started, first time. What a dream.

Then, a few weeks ago, I had an oil change at the same Mazda dealer who refuses to acknowledge the clutch fault. You can guess what's coming next...

That's right, a week after this little pitstop, my Roadster starts spewing oil. Deeply moved? I confess I was, just a bit.

So I take it back and the dealer begrudgingly looks underneath. Something wrong with the oil filter, apparently. So they tighten it all up, wash the underneath of the car and send me on my way again.

Fine. Then a few days later, it starts leaking again. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Anyway, after nine years, my Roadster's now finally behaving like a real British sports car. Maybe I should respray it British Racing Green.

Shaken and stirred

Ed Keohane — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 11:33:00 GMT

A weekend driving a Honda Civic Type-R is an unusual experience, particularly if your everyday transport is an automatic diesel Land Rover Freelander. The engines, though both superb, are about as far divorced from each other in terms of power delivery as it's possible to get.

I loved the Civic's spread of power and the thrilling urge above 6000rpm. The seats were also superbly comfortable - why give them adjustable lumbar support if you've got it right first time?

The thing that really got to me, though, was the ride. Yes, I'm used what's probably one of the top five most easy-riding cars currently in production, but the the rear end on the Honda is something else. How is it possible to build a sporty car built in 2007 that lacks independent rear suspension? On welsh roads, the smoothest in the UK, or on the motorway, this car is a dream, a real thriller, but drive it on B roads through Sussex and Kent, and you'll end up shaken not stirred!

My wreckage

James Ruppert — Fri, 09 Nov 2007 13:27:53 GMT

Look away now if you're tempted to make an offer for one of my vehicles, because they all seem to be playing up a bit. That usually happens once the rotten weather arrives and, as usual, it is the oldest and crappiest ones that are the easiest to sort.

Firstly, the Saab 9000, which on my rotation basis is the first to go, and has air con that has gone to sleep. It isn’t broken, because occasionally it pops into life, and as it is winter this is less of an issue. It's a sensor thing, apparently, so it only needs to be plugged into the mains for a system check. Then again, Mrs R, who is the Saab’s custodian, phoned in a fairly infuriated manner yesterday because it wouldn’t start. Plipper problems this time. Open the doors, shut the doors a few times and suddenly we have contact. I’ll have to monitor that one.

BMW 525i on the blink? Well, the automatic gearbox has become lazy and I feared the worst. I spoke to a gearbox guru who diagnosed a lack of fluid. Indeed, I had spent several hours trying to find the fluid entry point. Apparently there isn’t one. You need a special tube and the engine running to suck it up to the correct level. That should be fun to watch. Meanwhile, the curse of the metric tyre size has struck, because I need one of Dunlop’s finest. That’s a few quid shy of £200. However, a new set of proper imperial alloys will be £200 including part worns. That should sort it all out then.

Meanwhile the Land Rover that has to live outside at the moment has decided that it doesn’t like the cold, so the battery has discharged its duties. I’ll have to get a new one.

Finally Mini Ha Ha, who’s 43-years-old, starts on the button after months of being trapped behind scaffolding. In celebration I loaded her up for a run to the dump. It’s clown car time as I unload an endless number of black bags whilst the Landcruiser owners looked on open mouthed.

Smugly I jump in, start first time, engage gear and release the handbrake. At which point the cable snapped. Something else to look at…

Technorati tags: Our cars, Ruppert, Saab 9000, BMW 525i, Land Rover mkII, Mini Cooper

B&O in the limelight

Ed Keohane — Wed, 07 Nov 2007 18:07:37 GMT

I drove our long-term A5 home a couple of nights ago. It's got a greatengine, one of those units that you don't need to grow to love. It'sas instantly appealing as hot toast and butter.

One thing puzzled me on my lap of the M25, though. A spinning disckept appearing on the road in front of me like a hallucination. Itturned it was more like a mirage and was in fact the twistingreflection of the ring of the B&O dash tweeter as I went under eachoverhead light. I didn't notice it again, though the sound of theaudio system had much more impact. It's fiery, full bodied andvisually unobtrusive - just the way it should be.

Mondeo confirms my basic instincts

Mike Duff — Thu, 25 Oct 2007 14:37:00 GMT

Having opted for kitchen-sink Titanium X spec when I chose my long-term Ford Mondeo - on the principle that a fully-laden Mondy costs the same as a boggo base BMW 318d - I figured it would be a good idea to try a more basic version to see if the magic stayed when the toys went.

The least-adorned version the Ford press garage could turn up was a 1.8 TDCI Zetec, absolute heartland spec, and £17,995 as a hatchback.

To be honest, apart from a couple of blanking plates where the Titanium X's heated seat controls go, and the absence of the full-colour display screen between the instrument dials, I was hard pressed to spot the difference from the driver's seat. Yes, I was sitting on cloth rather than leather, the headlights didn't try and turn their beam into corners and the 1.8-litre engine is a bit louder than the 2.0-litre unit in my car.

But it felt pretty much as fast, the single-CD stereo projected the same high-quality sound and the steering, gearshift, clutch and brakes felt as solid and dependable as ever. It also seemed almost impossibly frugal, certainly if the trip computer was to be believed.

Apologies for the terrible quality of the snap taken by my mobile phone - if I can get mine to match the 1.8's fuel economy I should be able to afford a new one.

Technorati tags: Ford Mondeo, specification, Duff

Living life to the S-Max

Vicky Parrott — Mon, 15 Oct 2007 14:19:00 GMT

There is no car in the Autocar long term test fleet that does as much, or works as hard, as our Ford S-Max. Most of our staffers have moved home in it, gone on holiday in it, driven the length of the country in it and used it to taxi groups of drunken hacks back from some event or other.

I doubt that any other car in Autocar’s history ever left a bigger void on departure from our long-term fleet than the S-Max will when Ford takes it away.

It is not only for its people/luggage capacity that it will be missed; it’s also one of the best motorway cars in our car park.

I drove it to Leeds for a day this week and, as ever, spent most of the 600-mile round trip in awe of the ride, the engine, the handling, the sound system, the seating position, the visibility; just about every aspect of the driving experience, in fact.

And I have little or no need of a big car; yet I want an S-Max. With one, I know I would never need a more practical car ever again, even if I ended up with five children and an obsession with family skiing holidays. And that’s very unlikely.

Finally, if you need further proof of the S-Max's brilliance, here's a scenario: imagine it lived in your garage alongside an Ariel Atom 300. Can think of any situation when you wouldn't have the ideal car available?

Technorati tags: Ford S-Max, long-termer, practical, Parrott

Megane R26 burns up the autoroute

Steve Sutcliffe — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 10:22:00 GMT

Just got back from France having spent a day or two with a small but perfectly formed team of engineers from RenaultSport. I could tell you what I was doing but, unfortunately, then I’d have to kill you. Or, more to the point, they would have to kill me.

All I can say right now is that I spent an extremely interesting day howling round Nogaro race track – just outside Toulouse – helping to develop a car that will be launched, hopefully, at Geneva next year to then go on sale in July 2008. And if it happens (it has yet to be fully green lighted) it will blow your mind clean in two. Here’s a clue: it has two seats, one turbocharger, seven gears and one very simple purpose in life: to be categorically the most exciting road car the company has ever produced.

Almost as revealing as the job itself was the journey there and back, executed in ‘my’ long term Megane R26. It was the first time I’d done a really long, fast stint in the car, and I have to say it turned out to be a breeze. A pleasure, in fact, for all sorts of reasons.

One, the R26 is actually a much nicer companion on smooth French autoroutes than it is on our lumpen UK motorways (isn’t that always the case when you travel in France?). Two, the cruise control on the R26 works unusually well because you can memorise a speed then flick straight back to it once the traffic clears without having to reset the system manually. Three, at a steady 90-100mph cruise (which is all I’m prepared to travel at in the daytime in France nowadays) it returned a useful 24-25mpg. And four, once my new friends at RenaultSport had reset the tyre pressures to 2.0 bar at the front and 2.2 bar at the rear, it was amazing how much sweeter the R26 felt on the drive back. At last it now rides properly again. And it didn’t use a drop of oil after nearly 2000 miles, mostly spent at 4000rpm or above.

Not that long ago a journey like that would have been horrid in a proper hot hatch; it still would in some of the less brilliant performance cars made by Renaultsport’s competitors. Mercifully, I drove the R26 into my parking space at home wanting to do it all again.

Just goes to show how convincingly Renaultsport is dominating the affordable performance market at the moment; and, as I discovered, they’re only going to get better.

Technorati tags: Renault Megane R26, autoroute, RenaultSport, Sutcliffe