Dear all

Dear all members and reader of From The Captain's Chair.

Since this site was founded in 2007 I have enjoyed making the odd contribution, be it a back to back of cars from the armchair or a report of an old heap from behind the wheel. However, I have increasingly found that maintaining a website and a blog seperately was unviable, and frankly there are better ways of integrating the two than I managed to achieve here. As such, I have moved the majority of this website's content across to the new From The Captain's Chair Wordpress site, the rest to follow when suitably formatted.


However, if I am to only update the new Wordpress site, I run the risk of losing readers who see this and assume I have forgotten or lost interest in the old blog. As such, from the beginning of October I shall be redirecting the site feed (for followers) to my new website, if I can work out how!

The new website can be found at www.fromthecaptainschair.co.uk. People are more than welcome to subscribe using the widgets on the side - and if the notification feed doesn't change then please do let me know!

Death of a MONGO

MONGO in happier times


Those fans of Top Gear and similar programmes will understand, admittedly at second hand, the appeal of what could be called a cheap car challenge. Indeed, I've had confirmation from friends who compete in banger rallies - the idea of buying a cheap car and expecting a lot from it can result in a lot of fun.

A couple of friends of mine took a Rover 827 limousine to Rome last year - and grew so fond of it in the process that it still survives, despite bowing in the middle and being undrivable without a lot of work. So, with this in mind, when I came across a 1990 Montego 1.6LX in our Classifieds for £250, I promptly sent it to Brasov.

Strange concept, I know. Not everybody sees a cheap car and decides it has to go to Eastern Europe. But my friends Alex and Rhyds were looking for the car they were taking on this year's banger rally, and as a representative of the Maestro and Montego Owners' Club I was keen to demonstrate the capabilities of even an end of life example. Two hundred pounds later, the car was in Devon with Alex.

On a few, ahem, Welsh rally stages, both Alex and Rhyds pronounced the car good, and fit for the trip. I was secretly rather pleased that the deal had been done - knowing Alex and Rhyds as devout fans of BL, I knew the car would get the best chance it could on a banger rally. My justification was that a £200 car wouldn't really be bought to cherish, and this way it could prove itself. And with three subwoofers, a guest from another team, and three men's luggage for a fortnight, the car now known as MONGO set off in a cosmetically challenged state.

Regular updates via Twitter and Facebook convinced me the car was right for the job - and whilst Alex moaned about it's lack of power, a 1.6 Montego with such a load will feel slow to a man used to 4.0 Jaguars. Upon it's arrival in Brasov I felt it's future was assured - Alex had told me that if it failed it would be ditched, but to have made it there the return journey should be a piece of cake. We were even discussing the possibility of keeping it as a demonstration at shows of the dependability of the Montego.

But last night, trouble struck Team Now We're Motoring (Or MONGOing, as they became known). A failed water pump outside Nuremberg, and the lack of a spare, spelt game over for the MONGO. A Nuremberg scrapyard later, the Now We're MONGOing clan hitched a lift back in a 216GTi driven by AROnline editor Keith Adams.

And you know what? Whilst this £200 car managed 10 days and 3000 miles of sheer abuse, I can't help but feel sorry it has gone. Even Alex, whose moaning about a lack of power on the trip meant he was considering breaking it anyway, has said he's already missing it. Whilst it lit nobody's fire particularly, it did what was asked of it without complaint, and it was only on the return leg that it started to falter. Given the spares, it could have been bodged and repatriated, but circumstances dictated that it be abandoned to the crusher's mercy in Germany. I feel a bout of guilt about the car's fate - firstly as a club official; as someone devoted to the furtherance of a model it doesn't do to get one scrapped, and secondly it had done it's job so well it deserved to make it home. Far from it letting the team down, I'm wondering if perhaps I let IT down by guiding it on such a perilous journey. I knew that banger rallies were car-breakers, but I sent it out there. And it paid the ultimate price.

The one small comfort I can draw is that I know another team were after this car - and, indeed, I had been offered it for nowt after the rally if I collected it from Brasov. But a team that leaves their car behind is unlikely to treat it as well as one which wants to repatriate their steed. So I'm wondering if I gave the old girl her best option - MONGO made it half way home before expiring - a thousand miles or so more than had I simply stayed out of it. And was the honourable death due to water pump and petrol tank failure perhaps a better course than to abandon ship in Brasov?

A certain Mr. Clarkson once said he pitied Concorde - because following the last Concorde flight it was simply shut away. No men tending to it, no visitors, jaws dropped with anticipation, not even any crowds to come and gawp. If, he said, machines have a soul, what torture must this abandonment be inflicting upon the poor Concorde? Maybe MONGO was the same - better to die fighting than to be abandoned. My tortured soul is trying to decide whether what I did was right - and when I myself am old and decrepid, maybe I will know.

Back To The Future

Rolls Royce Phantom, in brown with a brown Everflex roof. STOP IT!

It's odd that a man who secretly thinks we're still living in 1987 has become a style and fashion guru. And believe me, it was entirely unintended - whilst I own silver suits and red braces, I don't parade the fashionable streets showing off, I've never contributed to fashion boards, and I let so few people photograph me I'll never become a pin-up.

My style icon status hasn't even been personal - for which I suppose the masses should be glad, though a return to the days of shoulder pads and perms needn't be a bad thing. No, my impact has been felt in the world of motoring.

You might recall my jubilation last year in discovering my first prediction had been right; that brown has returned as a colour option in many companies' motoring palettes. At the time I was unused to this sensation; having been right when predicting the return of a left-field choice many would rather forget. As such I focused my sights on the one item I genuinely thought would be left hidden at the back of the design cupboard of much shame in the stylists' sitting rooms.

But no. I've been proven right again to my eternal dismay. The vinyl roof, for so long considered passé, consigned to the history books and the world of the Las Vegas Limo, is starting to make a comeback.

We saw elements of this earlier in the decade with the Audi TT quattro Sport, with it's gloss black roof serving no purpose than to trumpet the return of vinyl-style contrat roofs. The Jaguar XJ's misguided black D pillar was strangely reminiscent of the P6 Series 2, too - that was the point at which I made my ridiculous prediction. But now two more manufacturers have come out in blatant support of the Everflex roof - and annoyingly both are REAL vinyl rather than a coat of paint.

Rolls Royce have offered vinyl roofed Phantoms for a fair few months now, including the Saudi spec Baynunah pictured above. And now Mazda have joined the act with the Mazda2 Black - complete with, you guessed it, a black vinyl roof.

What I'd normally have done at this point is blithely predict the return of the Ro-Style wheel or something like that. But I'm concerned I'm becoming something I hoped never to be. The trouble with fashion icons is they're revered briefly, then cast aside like the plastic seat protectors in a brand new Royce. I've always hankered after style, which is permanent but less adored. This explains my love of the Rover Sterling, the XJ40, and various old bits of tin from Crewe. Before long we'll be looking at cars like the M3 decked out in brown with a tan vinyl roof, and I'll have to become a hermit until all the fuss dies down. God in heaven, it'll be awful.


But what I am going to do, despite that rant, is make further predictions. We've seen the return on the Polo Bluemotion of Austin Rover economy spoilers as seen on all the best Metro and Maestro HLEs. I think that in these days of eco-friendliness we shall see more tributes to economy from the back catalogue of motoring. Let's see what we can suggest.

Clearly, first to go will be the large diameter, wide wheels. These only increase rolling resistance, meaning greater amounts of fuel are needed for propulsion. They'll have to go, bringing the pleasant side effect of less road noise. I predict that with them will go the craze for the alloy. Small steel wheels are bound to be lighter than anything sporting could ever be - readers will note that most sporting additions to cars make them heavier. All the toys will go, the quest for saving weight and thus fuel will put an end to on board computers, standard electric mirrors and windows, air conditioning and many more items. We'll end the craze for tall cars too, the lower a shape the better it cleaves through the air, and thus the better it'll be on fuel.

There. Four predictions for cars of the future that are unlikely to happen. And if they do, I'll give up and find a job in IT.

Railing against motorway miles

As I write, I'm on a train somewhere between Chesterfield and Derby. And I'm wondering if the environmentally friendly leftist public transport types might not have a point.

SHOCK HORROR! A petrolhead praising public transport? Stop pinching yourself; it's true. But I'm not about to start a soliloquy about the bus, nor shall I wax lyrical on the virtues of the tram. The train is my one public transport weakness.

Of some 13000 miles travelled in the last twelve months, I would estimate that about 5000 have been by train. And there's a good reason - in fact, there are a few. I've just hit Derby, thirty minutes after putting down a pint glass in Sheffield. In just over two hours from the point of writing I shall have hit Bristol, where my journey will break for the evening. I've listened to half of the Rio album, but then I could have quite easily done that on the M1 in a Rover Sterling. Big deal. Show me the motorist, however, who has had time to read the Telegraph between Sheffield and Derby. In return, I'll show you the motorway barrier he crashed into. I also have copies of The Times and Private Eye to entertain me on my journey - motorway man has not.

I shan't pretend that train travel is cheap - a standard class ticket from Meadowhall to Bristol Lawrence Hill is the nasty side of fifty quid even at student rates. But consider my taste in tin - how many old Jags, big Rovers or Merc W124s can cover 200 miles on fifty quid, let alone do the return leg for just 25p more?

It's also rather comfortable - my handwriting isn't legible but the ride of this train at least ensures it's less illegible than it would be when written in the back of a chauffeured XJ40. I'm over six feet tall, yet the only encumbrance to space is the overnight bag I have wedged behind my legs. This could have gone in a luggage rack but I prefer to keep smaller items of luggage with me. So as far as provisions go, it's excellent.

I have access to food and drink too - not hastily snatched like a sausage roll from a motorway service station. I also can't leave crumbs in the car if I'm on the train. Try that in your S320. I know it's hardly a la carte but the only time you get that in a car is if you're Ian Richardson in the Grey Poupon advert.

But the key benefit is that things GET DONE on the train. I make no apology for having a schedule that calls for multitasking whilst travelling, but consider this; if I'd taken the car, another week would have gone by without a From The Captain's Chair update.

The downside is it's not really fun to get on in one place and just get off in another. It's the real-life equivalent of a matter transference beam. But consider the alternative, for the trip I'm making. M1, M42, M40, M5, M32. Is that REALLY such fun> Motorway driving requires just enough concentration to stop you reading something awful like the Guardian, yet returns just enough boredom to make you long to.

For long haul dull trips why take the car? If, like me, you find motoring an art and pleasure, what is motorway work but the eternal scratching of infinite nails down the blackboard of your own despair? If Toad Hall had been just off the M4, would Toad have enjoyed screaming POOP POOP! long enough to get locked up? I don't think he'd have bothered.

So why should you?

Watching car credibility go down the pan.

Having seen the television campaign for the new MG6, I'd like to talk about car ads. How they're meant to inspire us to go and exchange lots of shiny coins and well-thumbed notes for a lump of metal with a wheel at each corner. Those printed and televisual feasts that plant the concept into the subconscious. There have been good ones, and there have been bad. And I reckon MG's latest offering falls into the latter camp.

One of the best I've seen is the billboard advert for the MG Maestro Turbo, which listed the supercars that couldn't keep up. This bullish attitude to sales is part of what makes the Maestro Turbo such a cult car - that, the low numbers built and the frankly blistering acceleration. In fact, Austin Rover in the late 80s were quite good at ads - remember the Sterling owner who had to take his baby son out in the car every night because the excellent ride was the only way of inducing the kid to nod off? The 'Up Where We Belong' R8 ad? The German Vitesse owner who demonstrated why he had bought British in preference to numerous Mercs, BMs, Audis etc was a low point though - few would have seen that translation about the quality ("I just like the way it's put together") without erupting into cacophonic hysteria.

But for the most point the ads were good. The low point of advertising for me was revisited earlier when watching something I taped ten years ago: THAT Kia Rio advert. It started with a Liverpudlian woman whinging about congestion on the school run, before showing us the car. A boast that the Rio could take thirty kids in one go was impressive... until she revealed that the reason was that Kia gave every Rio buyer the kid to set up a walking school bus for their area. The strapline for this ad? "Think before you drive."

So what were Kia trying to say? "Buy a Rio, and you'll want to walk everywhere", "Think before you drive...to the Kia dealership", and "We have to say something that sounds good but that means we can't mention the car" all spring to mind. What the ad actually told us was that nobody would buy a Rio purely because they lusted after one, and this is why in the last decade I have seen a solitary example on my local High Street.

Back to the MG6. Despite saying that they were going to sever heritage connections and sell cars on their merits, the cars are called the MG6GT and MG6 Magnette. The ad, and indeed the brand video, feature MG sportscars. It's overdubbed with a more exciting engine note, and not only are the plates reversible for foreign shoots, they are poor copies of UK plates in the wrong font. No expense spent, clearly.

Pity, because it's quite a nice car. Of all the cars under 5 years old I've driven, it's the one I fancy the most. But because people base their opinions on what the press say (mediocre) and the adverts (Low rent) I cannot see many people being tempted to part with £15495 for the boggo model, let alone nineteen grand for the one worth having. If they must play the heritage card, then they could do worse than to look at Vauxhall's latest. Bits of ads from the last 50 years, accompanied by the boast that they've just been getting better and better.

Take note, Longbridge.

Back In The Saddle

Will Riley and his second attempt to recreate the MG SV

It has been far, far too long since I wrote anything for From The Captain's Chair. And I'm sorry about that. Because I have this page pinned to my menu bar in Firefox, it stands proud whenever I open my web browser, looking at me and asking "Am I not good enough?" "Have you lost interest?" "Don't you love me any more?" - and making me feel guilty as hell in the process. I've considered unpinning it from Firefox, but that would only be hiding what gnaws away in my head.

I owe the website, and myself, a damn good reason. And I have one - the second year of a BA in Politics leaves one surprisingly little in the way of free time, especially in it's latter months. In focusing upon education I've lost sight of my passion, and it's not good enough. A balance has to be made.

So now I'm back - however briefly before the next essay, the next exam, the next article tearing me from this screen - I may as well talk cars. Tempted as I am to discuss the MG6, I shall be deferring such joys for the foreseeable future. I am in the middle of lining up a test drive, and it would be unfair to review it before I have done so. The bankruptcy of Bristol Cars would be tempting but that's rather old news now. I think the most interesting story of the last week is the news that Will Riley, descendant of the founder of Riley Cars, is again trying to relaunch the MG SV.

Last time, the name posed an issue. MG X-Power was deemed to be too close to the original MG name, which the Chinese are using themselves. He does not have the rights to the riley name - to the best of my recollection BMW retain that title. So he's delved into the past and resurrected the secondary brand Riley launched in the 1930s for wildly upmarket salooon cars. Autovia.

My friend Robert Leitch is a tad hacked off by this. He's been writing an alternative history of British Leyland, which makes extensive use of the Autovia name. Riley has rather stolen the march on Robert's efforts; the latter lamenting his failure to register the Autovia trademark in his name. I personally don't think he has anything to fear; for I think the project is doomed to failure. Few wanted the SV when new, and any attempt to remarket the car will be seen as a cheap rebirth of a supercar generated a decade ago (Remember the Qvale Mangusta underpinnings). Honourable as it may seem to create another British car to beat the world, I personally think that this attempt will meet with much the same success as Will Riley's last.

Sorry, and all that.

Humbug; a winter's tale of public transport

Let me make something clear now, in the first sentence, at the top of the article. I hate snow. It's cold, wet, white, icy, cold, snowy, slippy, and cold. I also hate ice, for much the same reasons. In all honesty I get a bit 'bah, humbug' around this time of year anyway; people anticipating Christmas at the end of November or beginning of December wind me up; it's far too early. So clearly I've been really enjoying myself the last few days; cold, icy, snowy hell that it has been.

It highlighted an interesting problem though, and one which in it's conclusion will have you wondering if this is really a car website. I'm about to advocate the improvement of public transport.

Yesterday, I slept on a friend's sofa - weather conditions were awful, and as I needed to be in university again today anyway to present my radio programme, I stayed where I was. The weather did it's thing, and it was clear that if I didn't make an attempt to return home today I'd probably not get back until Easter. So attempt I did.

Huddersfield to my home in northern Sheffield involves three trains, if the direct route is cancelled - or if for snow reasons you don't fancy risking being stuck in a small village in the back of beyond. So I went via Leeds, Wakefield, and the Meadowhall shopping centre. The finale to this hellish journey (Class 142 Pacers are awful trains at the best of times) was a two mile uphill walk in a foot of the godawful white stuff. Arrived home rather drained and on the chilly side.

My point is this; not only do we need to overhaul our public transport system, but we need to ensure that it functions when weather conditions aren't ideal. During my two mile walk not a single bus passed me, and not one of my trains was on time. I may like my car, but I appreciate public transport - if you can't drive, are prevented from driving by conditions, or can't afford to drive, it's a vital part of the infrastructure. But it needs to be a part of the infrastructure people want to use all year round. Tonight, I'd have killed for a bus, or for a half decent train. But most of the time we couldn't car less because we don't use them. The green mob desperately want us to leave our cars at home, but on the few occasions we have to we see nothing to encourage us to do the same voluntarily. If in 2900 a Class 142 carriage were to be found by some great great great (insert many hundreds of 'greats') grandchild of mine, he or she would instantly assume that in the Noughties being five feet in stature qualified a human to consider himself tall. At a good fifteen inches taller, I can confirm that modern trains have no legroom. Buses are almost as bad, and are noisy and not comfortable.

Now step back forty, fifty, a hundred years. I'm a frequent visitor of the Worth Valley Railway, and the type of train you'll certainly find there is spacious, comfortable, and has tables to put your paper or your pint on. Travel further back and you get leather and velvet upholstered drawing rooms with en-suite private facilities.

I'm not stupid, I do realise that to travel to university in an Edwardian living room would cost me about four times what I currently pay. But we could certainly do with more space on commuter lines (A bar/buffet would be good too). And wouldn't it be great to reinstate the ways of the past for long term travel?

Let's start though, by getting the nations trains and buses running in winter. I'm not the only one to want it.

The XJ, up close and personal.

The new XJ LWB, with Hatfields salesman Michael in the background.

I’ve written a fair amount about the new Jaguar XJ on these pages. So much that if I were paid for what I write I could almost buy a scale model of one. OK, a cheap one maybe.

It’s been on sale for around a year, and yet I see none on the road. A few weeks ago, I grew bored of waiting and motored on across to my local Jaguar dealer, Hatfields of Sheffield. I wasn’t optimistic of my chances even to see it - a chap I knew a few years ago was ignored by the staff for arriving in paint-spattered clothes – still of high quality, but he was given the impression he wasn’t wanted. So he took the money he was going to use to buy a brand-new XKR and bought a Mercedes instead. A fluffy-haired young man in a slightly down-at-heel Peugeot thus wouldn’t go down well...

When in the showroom, a chap called Michael asked me within a minute if he could help me. I made it plain I wasn’t looking to buy, and that I was a writer seeking the chance to nose round a new XJ to confirm his own opinions. “Of course!” he said, showing me to both short and long wheelbase versions in the showroom and spending a good half hour discussing the future of the company with me. He confirmed my suspicions; there are no plans for a Daimler X351 nor a larger car with the Daimler brand at the moment. The 4 cylinder diesel mooted for XF is also, so far as Jaguar’s dealers know, a myth. When the time came for me to leave, he toddled off and returned weighted down with just about every piece of current Jaguar literature he could lay his hands on. Praise, then, must go to Hatfields.

And what of the XJ? Well, the first thing that sprang to mind is that it photographs terribly. In the metal it’s far more coherent – especially in LWB form and in black – than any still image allows you to comprehend. When viewed alongside an XF – as, funnily enough, most XJs in showrooms are – it makes the smaller car look lumpen and vaguely dated. Too much is electronic though – the cars in the showroom had been powered down, meaning access to the glovebox and boot amongst others was not an option. The dashboard is a very pleasant surprise – far from the plasticky appearance I’d been hoping against, it was upholstered in high-quality leather, looking and feeling most contemporary. The wood on the doors works well too, and there’s space for even my legs in the back of the SWB version.

My one remaining static issue is headroom. Maybe it’s that at 6’3”, I’m something of a giant. But the glass roof means the headlining is too low. This can of course be solved by lowering the seat, but this strikes me as a solution to a problem that needn’t exist.

I say static issue because I tried to blag a test drive. This was my one request which was denied, and then I suspect more due to my age than the dealership’s reticence. Sadly, I doubt Jaguar’s insurance covers nineteen year olds who aren’t in a position to buy. A pity, but I’ll have the chance one day to report from behind the wheel also. Sort the roof out, Jaguar, and then on what I currently know I can wholeheartedly recommend it. As for now, I recommend it if you’re under six foot tall. Or being chauffeured.

Continental cruiser.

The new Bentley Continental GT; looks sharper than the last and should be sharper to drive too.

I've just watched the live unveiling of Bentley's new Continental GT. A car that in it's original guise didn't really win me over. Sure, I liked the interior and the Flying Spur is still a car that I could get along with very easily, but there was something about the slightly boss-eyed nose and the Audi TT-esque rear end that didn't endear it to me.

Not so with the new car. At first there are few differences to note, but the more you see it the more you see what's new. In fact, every panel on the car is brand new. It's sharper, more muscular, and more purposeful than it's predecessor. The new, less rounded rear window puts me in mind of the Aston DB9, whereas the remodelled nose is somewhere between the Mulsanne and the old Continental T. The new bootlid - with a prominent bulge first seen on the current Azure - looks less downmarket than the rump of it's predecessor, and the whole thing looks both more upmarket and more aggressive than ever before.

The interior is much of the same - sharper, but essentially like the old car. However, I'm not keen. The interior itself is fair enough, but it has been ruined with the stupid 3 spoke steering wheel from the previous Continental GT Speed. Whilst less repellent than that in the Mulsanne, I can't help but feel the traditional 4 spoke Continental wheel is classier than the idiotically creased thing that nestles in front of any prospective new Conti driver.

It's easier to see the changes when side by side; new car edgier and more like Mulsanne saloon

Expect to see the full range follow suit; GTCs, Speeds, a Supersport or two, and the Flying Spur (The one I'm waiting for). New is a 4.0 V8 option to sit alongside the W12; a cheaper and more carbon efficient Bentley for those who give a damn about the environment. I'm sorry, but if you care about the environment you don't buy a Bentley, end of. The good news, however, is that because the car is lighter, it should both have a lighter effect on your wallet at the pumps and be a bit quicker to boot. Even in basic GT guise, I reckon this will be a 200mph car. Well, the W12 version, anyway. Expect the W12 range to start at about £120000, with the V8 somewhere between £100000 and £110000.

As I mentioned above, the one I'm waiting for is the Flying Spur. I sincerely hope Bentley don't style the new one in much the same way as the old one - which looked a little ungainly from most angles. No, what we want is a sort-of Mulsanne-lite, but with a six light configuration. It's not unfeasible to liken the Mulsanne to the S-series as far as looks are concerned. Right, with that comparison in your head, consider what a similarly updated S2 Mulliner Flying Spur would look like. That's what we want - Bentley, take note. I also hope that Bentley have taken note of the Flying Star shown by Touring at Geneva and displayed on these pages earlier in the year; a Continental GTE would be a fantastic piece of kit.

I look forward to seeing more on this new car; to be properly unveiled at the end of the month at the Paris show. Just please, Bentley, don't foul up the derivatives.

Bentley: Please make the Flying Spur a bit like this.

Insuring a fair approach

I want to talk in this article about a subject close to my heart. As a nineteen year old male living in the formerly industrial North, the fact that car insurance is expensive has become an accepted fact - unwillingly, but it is a cross which has to be borne. Give the size of the quotes I've been getting, it's unsurprising that many insure in their parents' names or don't bother at all.

Seriously, let us look at the facts. I did a quotation the other day on a friend's old Austin Maestro Mayfair 1.3. Not exactly a road-burner, and neither is it a car that many would find an aspirational item nowadays. Yet my insurance quote would have bought you a Daimler Sovereign. Not insured one, fuelled one, or even rented it for a week. Bought, outright. Compare this to the quote I got on a V8 SD1 as a named driver. Still extortionate by the standards of most people, but a thousand quid is stupidly low for anybody's insurance at my age. And what's the fine for not having insurance? £200, 6 points (A ban, but if you're not insured this won't stop you), and a slap on the wrist.

Call me biased, but this does not strike me as a fair system. It punishes the innocent - the safe, sensible, mature-minded drivers - by lumping them in with the idiots as a matter of course and charging accordingly. It's also gender-biased - granted, there are a higher percentage of idiot male drivers than idiot women, but is this really ample justification for doubling the premium for those who lack the ability to give birth? And I'm not kidding - that really is the rough nature of the imbalance.

Now, I'm not calling for the abolition of insurance. To do so would be frankly idiotic. But I do think a fairer system should be created. I've seen and discussed several methods over the last year or two, and I really think that some would be better than the current system.

First, there is an idea proposed by my friend John Orrell, who if he drove would qualify for cheap insurance on account of his age and his post code. This model can be called the 'benefit of the doubt' model. The idea behind it is that we each pay a reduced sum to insure a car - not a stupidly low one, but enough to act as an incentive. Let's say no premium of more than £1000 for young drivers on anything below group ten insurance. This is then reduced with No Claims Bonus every year, as per mature drivers - let's say an annual drop of ten percent for the first year, five thereafter. But if anybody makes a claim for an accident that is the fault of the policyholder, his or her policy should then skyrocket. That which before would have been £1000 would be, say, £2500 or £3000 after the accident, and that would take years to return to a sensible level. This would be an excellent way to punish those who are guilty whilst not unduly taxing the innocent.

Come on, though! Insurance companies want your money! They're not going to give in to that sort of idea without a fight. So here's idea number two, suggested in the Times about a month ago by a correspondent whose name I have sadly forgotten. Rebates. We keep the current system, however, at the end of the insurance period each claim-free driver receives a 50% rebate. That way, the innocent aren't unduly handicapped save for the first year, the guilty are punished, and insurance companies can help themselves to twelve months' interest on the bit they have to give back.

Nobody with a sensible head upon their shoulders can deny that these two ideas make infinitely more sense than the one we have. But I bet neither is adopted, because it would mean insurance companies lost out. But there would be serious money in plan number three. Why can't one insurance company halve the prices of all young driver insurance quotes, full stop. Yes, they'd be stung once in a while by the idiots, but by adopting a 'clean licences and no fault claims' policy they could weed out repeat offenders. And the amount of business they would attract would certainly compensate for the lack of profit caused by lower premiums.

But will anyone be brave enough to take this step? Thought not.

Holding a torch for the victims of car crime.

Image ©www.rootes1725cc.info
Don't let this happen to your classic.

I've been abusing the old blog of late, I'm afraid. I've been a bit wrapped up in capers, shows, and establishing the From The Captain's Chair website to really write anything for this place. But now I'm back I'm going to write about something really meaningful and deep. The destruction of your pride and joy.

One night last week, I awoke to what sounded like an expensive firework at about half one in the morning. As I was trying to go to sleep, I heard another. Incensed at the idea that some chav's jollies were keeping me from sleep, I hopped out of bed and stormed to the window. About a hundred yards away, to my left, was what seemed like a huge bonfire. Donning my specs, I saw that what it actually was was a bonfire based upon a Ford Transit camper. The other two tyres, for it was tyres exploding which had awakened me from my slumber, followed in the footsteps of their comrades with the accompaniment of a spitting and hissing dashboard. Within minutes, the fire service were on the scene, and despite the Transit's reluctance to calm down, the blaze had been fully extinguished within a quarter of an hour.

There are still scorch marks on the concrete between the council garages the Transit was set ablaze amongst. And captivating though a big fire undoubtedly is, there are still scorch marks burned indelibly upon my brain. For the first time, I had a clear insight into the sense of loss that is felt by enthusiasts whose prides and joys are forcibly removed and destroyed. Recently, my mate Chris Mansfield's very late MK1 Montego base - a rare model and the latest known MK1 to boot - was borrowed without his permission, and turned up cooked to a crisp about a week later. Another friend's Triumph Acclaim, though not burned out, was found upside down thirty miles from his house . There have also been near misses - cars that low-life have tried to steal but been unable to fathom the security on. And if you cast the net wider in the classic car world, worse has happened - witness the rare Humber Sceptre estate at the top of this article.

I've always been able to sympathise with the sense of loss felt when something like this happens - like any other burglary, it hurts. Likewise, I've also felt that it should be your right to break the culprit into as many pieces as your car/front window/garage was in when you found it, that a slap on the wrist isn't a good enough punishment for the lowlife that enjoy removing the privileges that people have worked damn hard for.

But what hadn't quite sunk in before was the extent of the sentimental loss. As I watched the flames curl further around that camper van, I couldn't help but consider the owners. Probably planning to take it to Cornwall or Whitby for a week in August, now deprived of the holiday they would have had. The possessions kept in there, lost forever for maybe ten minutes of jollies by a gang of four with a single shared brain cell. Seeing the flames curl round the wheelarches of this once proud house on wheels, as parts of the fibreglass camper conversion simply fell off, helped me appreciate the pits in the stomachs of people affected in this way - where once nestled love for their pride and joy, and where for no other reason than a childish desire to smash, crash, or burn, there is a gaping void left to be filled

I hope to God it doesn't happen to me. Having seen both the act of arson and it's results, I know I would be heartbroken to hear of the car of another friend of mine going up in flames. My own motor? I'd go to pieces.

Evoquing negative emotion

The new Range Rover Evoque.

Having stumbled across pics of the new Range Rover, I can only really feel two emotions. Disappointment, and disgust. Sure, we all knew it was coming, the Land Rover LRX saw to that, but as someone who hates pseudo4x4s with a passion, it was never going to appeal to me.

It's too small, there's next to no glass, it looks like it's on stilts and full of steroids, and it will be far too pricey. But whilst these criticisms are entirely just, none represents my biggest problem with the Freelander based car. Nor am I most hacked off by the fact that like BMW's Mini, it seems to be a case of style over substance. Nor even is it the stupid name, Evoque, that incenses me most.

No, my problem is that this car is not and will never be a Range Rover. Spen King, the recently departed genius behind the idea, has stated that it was engineered from nothing, made a huge profit with few revisions, and had no rivals at the time. Certain things were done for reasons - the black pillars were cost-effective, the basic style derived from the original mock-up body used to test the chassis, even the castellated bonnet edges were designed to provide mirror mounting points.. The original Rangie was genuis in combining car with Land Rover, and in becoming a truly prestigious item along the way. By the end of RR Classic production in 1995, not only was it still a serious off-road tool but a viable XJ and S-class competitor. The P38A and L322 full-sized Rangies do this just fine, also.

The Sport, a roadgoing version of the Range Stormer, signalled the beginning of the slippery slope. A blinged up sham-RR, based on the Discovery (apt, given that the original Disco was Rangie based), intended more for Sloane Square than the Serengeti. This, I thought at the time, had as much to do with the Range Rover as the Range Rover had to do with cheese. And the Evoque, with it's stupid name and idiotic looks, has taken the idea further. Range Rover, far from being a stand alone flagship of the Land-Rover range, has become a selection of vehicles suited more to the footballer than the farmer. The interior is even to be designed by a team led by the original 'footballer's wife' - Victoria Beckham. A Rangie with a Spice Girl interior. It's sacrilege, to debase one of the most prestigious names on the planet in the way that LR seem to desire.

"The 4x4 was never intended as a status symbol but later incarnations of my design seem to be intended for that purpose," Spen King told a Scottish newspaper in 2004, going on to state that people who drive four-wheel-drives in town are stupid and pompous. That the Range Rover had become little more than a display of wealth, he stated, disgusted him to the extent that at the time of the interview he drove a Mini. What, then, would CSK have made of the Evoque? Call me cynical, but I do not think he would have approved.

Charles Spencer King, 1925-2010

Charles Spencer "Spen" King

It is with much regret that From The Captain's Chair announces the death of one of the most influential men within Rover and later British Leyland; Charles Spencer King. Spen, as he was known, was first apprenticed to Rolls-Royce in 1942, joining the Rover company under his uncles Spencer and Maurice Wilks in 1945, working upon the Rover gas-turbine projects.

A significant figure in the creation of the P6 range, King was effectively the man behind the legendary Range Rover project - a special edition of which bore his initials in 1990. His input into the Maestro and Montego during the early stages of development ensured the car's simplicity. Freely admitting to copying the basic principles of the VW Golf, King eschewed the Hydragas and box-in-sump layout of previous BL mid-range cars for both ease of maintenance and customer familiarity - there was no need for anything more complicated, so he advocated the use of a simplistic design.

As Chairman of BL Technology in 1979 he was responsible for Leyland's ECV projects to investigate efficient and green technoology - some thirty years before the rest of the planet became interested. Many of the features of the Design Award-winning K-series stemmed from research done by BL Technology during his tenure as Chairman. He resigned from BL in 1985 at the age of sixty.

He died last weekend as the result of injuries caused by a cycling accident 2 weeks ago, from which he did not recover. Spen was an influential man, and contributed to many of From The Captain's Chair's favourite designs. He will be sorely missed.

I've been driving in my car.

There have been several debates; on telly, the radio, in the pub, even in the car itself - about what the best driving song on the planet is. I myself have a number of suggestions - though many would argue my music taste is dire. But what really makes a good driving song appeal to us, and can music really change the way we drive?

This, I felt, was a topic worthy of further investigation. But being a man, and biased because I were to be the driver in the experiment, I couldn't really evaluate my own findings - we all are worse behind the wheel than we like to admit, even if we are the world's greatest drivers. As such, finding the flaws in my own driving would have been a near impossible task. So I took a passenger with me.

The passenger I chose was my mother. As somebody who drives in utter silence, and whose nerves since two non-fault accidents have caused her to become a tad... jumpy when being driven, she would be the perfect person to assess the effect of different music upon my driving style. And following a bribe in the form of a picnic in the countryside on a sunny afternoon, I'd convinced her to take part in the experiment.

Not wishing to push things too far either towards lunacy or lethargy, I selected something with a high pace and upbeat rhythm and something smooth and refined as my 'test tracks' - Rio by Duran Duran and Avalon by Roxy Music. The New Wave beat of Duran Duran would be the perfect contrast to the debonair electric Lounge Lizard that is Mr Ferry, and conveniently I carry both a Duran Duran cassette and a Roxy Music cassette in the Peugeot at all times. To start, out came the album I'd been listening to before, and into the Blaupunkt cassette player went the "Rio" album.

"Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand!" One of my favourite New Wave tracks by one of my favourite New Wave groups, ideal music to drive to on a summer day. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and it served as a reminder of just how sweetly the 306 handles. The weather was perfect, the birds were chirruping, and it felt superb. The track ends, the Bryan Ferry compilation album I have is slotted into the stereo, and even I can feel things slowing down a little. There is something about Bryan Ferry's voice that instantly makes you feel like Mr Cool, for whom everything in life has turned out well, who can afford to take things easy - and just relax. Especially the later Roxy stuff, as per the title track of their last album in 1982; the Ferry take upon the New Romantic era was to revisit the days of people like Crosby and Sinatra, a soothing alternative to the more contemporary collections heard elsewhere.

Testing over, we found a charming little spot at the side of a quiet country road to have our little picnic and reflect upon the results of the experiment. The music described by one of Duran Duran's contemporaries as 'bumpy bumpy bump' music seemingly did little for my driving style - whilst it was conceded that I'm not the sort of arrogant prat you find behind the wheel of most Bee-Ems I was told that Le Bon was not Le Plus Bon vocalist for passenger satisfaction. Roxy Music, it seemed, had the same effect upon my helmsmanship as it did on my mind. Everything was so much smoother, more relaxed, and I was told I seemed pretty much to trained chauffeur standards when listening to soothing music.

So what does this teach those who actively try to improve their driving? Simple. For the majority of the time listen to smooth and soothing tracks - if Bryan Ferry and Roxy Music aren't for you, try someone like James Blunt. On the occasions where you're either doing sporting B-road blasts or in areas with higher speed limits, listen to the faster paced stuff - my personal preferences are things like Phil Collins and Duran Duran, but a lot of pop would fit into this category. And if you want to listen to rap music that everyone can feel as you drive by - you're clearly a mentalist. Go away.

The money of colour

Jaguar's X300 - doesn't look so bad in odd colours as you'd think.

Just had a text message through from my old mate Jon Sellars. Regular readers of the blog and website will remember Jon as a chap with a taste for all that's classy about British motoring, and a chap also who'd offered me a go in his borrowed Jaguar X300 XJR if we got an opportunity. Sadly, the key word in that sentence is 'borrowed'. The keys are due to go back tomorrow and I'm not able to get down and see him beforehand. Sadly, this means that I'm not going to get a spin in the ultimate supercharged six cylinder rocketship in the near future.

I tried thinking of things to make the pain of losing an XJR drive go away. The Rover Sterling I've been offered a spin in, for example. Remembering the SD1 VP EFi I recently borrowed. Looking forward to potential future Jags of my own. But none of it really managed to take the twinge of regret away - until Jon's second message told me what the rocketship's replacement was likely to be, sparking an intriguing train of thought.

An XJ8 4.0 Sovereign LWB in Royal Blue. Just as quick a car, but with more of a walnut and leather 'Gentleman's club' feel than the overtly sporting XJR. Very much, I thought, a car that would suit Jon. But his preferred choice of colour was the bit that gave me food for thought.

You see, I'm a fan of what we could call 'obtuse' colour schemes - let's face it, any man who wants a brown Bentley with a tan interior isn't quite right in the head. And whilst I appreciate the subtle class of a Royal Blue Jaguar with cream leather, it's a bit... I don't know, on the acceptable side. You see, there are some less established shades that really work on Jags, but are a bit too Marmite for most people's tastes.

Jon's suggestion of a V8 Sov got me thinking of an Alpine Green car I spotted for sale the other day in that spec. Alpine Green is a slightly musky pale metallic silvery-green colour with a hint of gold, which in the right light really manages to look the part on the leaping cat. I know what you're thinking, it sounds awful - a car dealer associate had an Alpine Green S-Type on his lot for months with little interest. However, something inside me really wants an Alpine Green Sovereign or Daimler, as it looks upmarket, slightly tweedy, and very 'old-money' to my eyes.

Signal Red also works on the X300 shape, somehow. I've seen one or two - OK, only one - Sovereign in Fire Engine red, and I desperately wanted it. I thought that somehow, despite the blatant wrong-ness of the idea, it worked surprisingly well. It especially would with a black interior; which on a Jaguar is like ordering ice cream with your roast beef. So rare are they, however, that I had trouble finding a pic to head this article - a lengthy root through my archive yielded the original ad. Sorry for it's less-than-perfect quality on-screen, the original was barely two by one inches.

I may have a soft spot for dodgy colour schemes, but everyone else would be sticking their fingers down their throats as I wafted past in complete serenity. They'd think me mad to have chosen such an emetic shade for my upmarket British barge. And because several people are of this mindset, the red Jag at the top of the page - and any car in the 'wrong' colour - is worth less than many others. More desirable colour combinations - dark blue or green with a cream interior, say - attract a premium. As a Yorkshireman, I'd never buy a brand new car for depreciation's sake, so the whims of fashion ensure I save money on my purchase by choosing a less widely revered shade.

Perhaps this is the root of my love of brown cars, as well. My wallet is covered in moths and dust, such is the rarity of it's emergence from the black hole I call a pocket. So by choosing the ones no-one else wants I could save a fortune. The only problem is when I tired of my questionably coloured possessions, nobody would want to relieve me of them without a huge discount. But so what - if I like a car, chances are I'll keep it a fair while. And even if I did sell at a loss, the saving I made initially would mean I'd had a better spec car than I could have afforded had I played it safe in the first place.

Vive le difference!

A mistake for Morgan?

Morgan's EvaGT teaser shot.



Just checked my e-mail inbox, and one's popped in informing me of a new Morgan. The EvaGT is said to be a 4 seat coupe, based on the Aero 8 chassis, and is to be a limited run model only. The company have released a teaser sketch - one of those that barely shows you anything. But what it does show is pure pornography - rather like a coupe version of the unique Wallis Special Austin Seven, built by Wing-Commander Ken Wallis, but swoopier.

If it's based on an Aero 8 it should drive well enough, but I'm concerned about the idea of departing from the true Morgan formula. The last time Morgan did this was with the Plus Four Plus. This was another of my favourite Morgans purely for oddball value, but when it was new it bombed - just twenty eight were made.

The figures look promising though - a 300bhp BMW 3.0 straight six, 0-60 in under 5 seconds and 40mpg. Predicted top speed is in the region of 170mph. It shouldn't be cheap though - if the price tag isn't six figures I will be surprised.

I might be concerned about the idea of a 'modern' Morgan, but I'm even more concerned about their brand plan overall. Sources close to the factory have suggested that due to their size Morgan hope to launch a new car every 2 years or so - hybrids, track cars, electric cars and more. This will undoubtedly offend the purists - I am by no means a Morgan Nazi but I'm stunned it's even being contemplated. The appeal of a Morgan is that they've been round since slightly before the Ark, and are a taste of England As She Used To Be. If the Plus Four Plus of the 1960s was such a flop, then how do Morgan think their traditional clients will react to an electric car or a Westfield-esque track car? And who else would want to buy into the brand - say you have a Morgan and it's a Plus Four being driven by Brian Blessed in a flat cap. What bright young playboy would want to be associated with that?

I like the Morgan range as it is - I'd adore one of those Aeromax Coupes, and I suspect that the EvaGT will be even better as far as I'm concerned - like an old school Bristol for those to whom the Fighter doesn't appeal. But Morgan are taking a huge risk with this change in direction - I have my fingers crossed it'll pay off, but the doubt's still there.

Torino, twinned with Detroit.

Lancia's Delta, soon to be offered with a Chrysler badge.

I understand, from the popular motoring press, that the FIAT/Chrysler merger means the end of Chrysler in Europe. Their models will be rebranded Lancia, and Lancia models branded Chrysler for non-European markets. Strangely, however, the UK market will recieve the Chrysler branded cars, not those bearing the more evocative Lancia nameplate.

I'm not sure that any of this is a wise move, mainly because I'm not convinced that Lancia and Chrysler do good bedfellows make.

I've had a good crawl over a current Delta, and in all honesty the car managed to impress me considerably. Yes, it looks a little bit squirrel-esque when viewed from head on, but the interior is a genuinely pleasant place to sit. Like all Lancias (Especially the Lybra - what a shame that car wasn't available in RHD) it not only looks classy but feels truly upmarket; the plastics are nice to touch, the seats are firm, and it all feels RIGHT.

Now compare this to, say, the interior of a Chrysler Sebring. It's grey, with pretend aluminium and equally plastic wood. There is nothing (admittedly from photos, I've never so much as seen a Sebring to compare the Delta to) to draw one's attention, the plastics look to be of inferior quality, and the outside of the car is to my mind a bit of a mess. How such a thing could ever be branded a Lancia is beyond me, unless some work is put into refining the interior decor big style.

However, it's not all doom and gloom. Renderings of the next generation Chrysler 300C show a far more pleasant interior than any of the current lineup, and a Flaminia GT style grille complete with huge Lancia logo would suit the big C no end - add a bit more chrome, some less brash colour choices (The Thesis was available in a lovely metallic rust colour - quite apt given the rumours that drove the brand from these shores) and some typically Italianite alloy wheels, and the package could work. Only just.

Working the other way round is a move I'm equally unsure about. Nice though the Delta is, with Chrysler badges and attendant grille it borders on the ridiculous. What previously seemed a little odd yet fundamentally pretty looks as a Chrysler to be quite ill-judged. Chrysler do, however, get an improved interior ambience from a tie-in with the Lancia division of FIAT, which is more than my experience suggests the Italian division will recieve. Looking on the bright side for we Europeans, though, the SRT range would make superb Lancia HFs...

My main reason for being dubious, however, is that I have been eagerly awaiting Lancia's return to the UK for the past 2 or 3 years. The worldwide recession put paid to the reintroduction when it was meant to happen, and as such it was postponed. But for the reintroduction of one of motoring's most evocative brands to be made with a whimper, under the name of a somewhat less interesting (to my mind) American marque, borders on the tragic. If such a match must be made, then give us back our UK Lancias along with it. We're asking very nicely.

Please.




P.S. From The Captains Chair now has a website - either click the link at the top of this page or visit http://fromthecaptainschair.co.nr.

The Bangernomics theory

I've been neglecting this place of late. Not deliberately, but I've had rather a lot to do, and I've had to give writing the back seat for a while. So much neglect indeed that the last entry is hideously out of date. I wrote about Oli South's 420SLDi, and how at 190,000 miles it still felt fairly good. For £350, it had done him proud, lasting a year and thirty odd thousand miles.

Since my drive in mid-April, though, the car has started to show it's age. It was taken off the road a month before, in March, for a service and some maintenance. Sadly, more needed doing than was really economical, so he started talking in terms of a replacement towards the end of last month.

Fast-forward to last week. Out of the blue, I got a phone call. "Sam [he said], quick question. Do 400 and 600 wheels have the same PCD?" They don't, and I told him so. However, before anything else was said, poor signal cut me off. I found out the next day he'd just bought a 620SLDi. 150odd thousand miles, still fairly good condition by the look of the pics on eBay. How much? £200.

Experience shows that even with such a high mileage, the L-Series Rover diesel engine is certainly up to higher mileages than that. So what he's done is again buy a car that'll probably last about a year - though he reckons it's a stopgap - for next to nothing. Two years' cars for £550. I know people who've lost several times that in depreciation alone.

Oli's experience got me thinking seriously about this whole Bangernomics business. So seriously, that I armed myself with a virtual £500 and went on a virtual hunt for a decent car. Well, come on. I'm a student. I'm not going to sally forth with a real £500 and look for a real car until I can finance it. To make it even more of a challenge, I'm going to be fussy. For my £500, I want a car I'd genuinely enjoy owning - that means fairly big, comfy, preferably auto - and must last me at least a year.

Big, comfy, and cheap. I could do a lot worse than a 600. And whilst the car I found on Pistonheads failed to tick the 'auto' box, it ticked the 'lairy' box quite well instead. It's a 600ti, basically a 600 with the 820 Vitesse 200bhp lump dropped in. 128000 miles, in White Gold (Plus point from me, but not to everyone's taste), and roadworthy until July. Best bit though, it doesn't look to need anything for the next test. Worth considering.

I've always liked the bigger 800s, and an 827 or Sterling auto would tick the boxes. eBay came up with the goods, a 1994 827SLi automatic with no bids at £350. Very little tax but six months' test left, the practical hatch body, and a low mileage at 91500. Yes.

Something with a premium badge next, I think - whilst I'm a Rover fan to the man on the street they're nothing special. Could I buy the Best of British with my monkey? Sadly not - double the money and I can take my pick of Jags and Daimlers, but the choice in my £500 price bracket was pitiful. No late 80s 5 series BMs worth talking about, and I didn't even dare looking at W124 Mercs. But hey, I found a couple of big Rovers within my budget that could realistically last me some time. Who cares what others think - this Bangernomics lark could be a bit of all right.

Bangernomics in practice.

Oli's mega mile Rover - for next to nothing it's impossible to go wrong.

Trying to navigate whilst speeding along a dual carriageway at something a tad illegal, I noticed too late the street we were aiming for. 'Bugger' was my response, to which my chauffeur braked hard, knocked it into second, and hurled the car round a 90 degree right turn across 2 lanes of traffic, tyres squealing like something from the Professionals. Such was my first experience of R404SPR back in August, from a rather cramped back seat.

I'll begin with an admission. I loathe the idea of a diesel engine. To me, they are clattery, sound like a Transit or a tractor, and tell everyone within sensory range that you're either a Scot or a Yorkshireman when it comes to counting the pennies. I've never heard the term dieselhead used to refer to a car nut, not is there a car satire site called SniffDiesel. So I didn't expect to be greatly impressed by the daily hack of my best mate, Oli South. The car is a Rover 420 SLDi he bought in June last year with 159000 miles for £350 or so, and now has done just shy of 190000 miles. In the time he's owned it it's not exactly been his pride and joy (That's his Maestro VP) - it's been a workhorse; driven daily, used for work, dented, scuffed, and with an interior that would give an OCD sufferer a multiple heart attack. However, I fancied a quick spin, and upon expressing this desire he chucked me the keys.

To begin with, at fairly moderate speeds it seems unnecessary to use the accelerator. The car will set off from a standstill and build to a decent town speed on the clutch alone - making this the first car I've driven that seems entirely impossible to stall unless the driver is being a prat. The seats were still supportive after thirteen years and 190000 miles, the steering light and without any free play that I could detect.

However, it was a tad light for my taste. I wasn't overly impressed with the ergonomics - I'm sure that by spending ages fiddling with the seat I could have got into a position where nothing was a huge stretch, but given that I didn't test the car on the public highway and that the position everything was at suits Oli and his fiancee, I didn't like adjusting the seat too much. My other major criticism was that rear visibility is limited due to the high bootline, narrow rear screen, and thick rear pillars - the light steering also meant that looking backwards whilst reversing, I had no idea in which direction the wheels were pointing until the car was moving.

Yet despite my dislike of diesel, the poor rear visibility, and the overly light steering, I can't honestly say it's a bad car. It was dirt cheap, has been driven the equivalent of three years' mileage unserviced since last June, and does not look or feel like a car that's travelled nearly a hundred and ninety thousand miles. Had I been looking for a car when R404SPR was for sale, I can't say that I'd have ignored it given the abuse it's taken and the stupidly low purchase price. As a daily hack, it's unbeatable.

A car for the Connoisseur

Rover 75 - a bargain not to be missed

My good friend Jon Sellars offered me a spin, back in November, in his XJR. Like me, he's a BL man with a fondness for Jaguars, and like me, he's young enough to defy the 'old man' image. However, unlike me, he's of sufficient age to be able to insure pretty much what he wants. At the time, the Jag was back at his home and we were in Birmingham at the NEC, but he offered to let me have a spin next time he, the car, and I were in one place. I met up with him at the Pride of Longbridge rally last weekend, which he attended in his Rover 75. Such a car was more in the spirit of PoL than the big cat, he said, before asking if I'd like a go in the Rover whilst it was there.

Not an offer that I, as an admirer of the 75 and British car fan in general, could decline. Jon's 75 is one of the most desirable in the range; a 2.5 V6 Connoisseur SE automatic saloon in royal blue with cream leather. Save the colour combination, the one I'd buy - and I'd not mind the shade he chose if my preferred Primrose wasn't available.

Unlike previous big Rovers, the 75 feels hemmed-in - it's by no means claustrophobic or cramped, but there is no sense of complete and utter space. Instead, the car seems to shrink around you from the moment you shut the door. Survey the dash, and it's more than pleasant - call me old fashioned but walnut, leather, and magnolia dials comfort me in a car. The seats are well shaped and legroom and headroom - even in the back - are more than adequate for a long legged beanpole like myself.

Put the car in 'D' and you hit the only real flaw I managed to find. The plastics on the gear selector didn't feel quite as upmarket as the rest of the car would make you think. I expected nicer, but then I remembered that the car as a whole looks and feels more upmarket than it really is - was the fault with the car or my perception of how it should ? Set off, and the atmosphere is one of utter serenity. It's a soothing and relaxing car to drive - partly, I suspect, due to BMW's desire to avoid in-house competition - with a near silent V6 at town speeds. The suspension is more than capable of dismissing anything so undignified as a bump and twirling the near-vertical steering wheel provides effortless changes of direction. That's not to say the car detaches you from the outside world - it's fairer to say that the 75 cushions it's occupants from any undue discomfort or effort.

I could quite easily live with a 75 - especially given that current prices are the stuff of wild dreams for we Yorkshiremen. The 75 wasn't particularly expensive for it's class when new, and today it represents an even better used car bargain. Even if you're picky and want the best spec, you can find a 75 for very little. I found six 2.5 Connoisseur SE autos for under £1500 with just five minutes on Auto Trader's website. Search around and one can be yours for under a grand - a further five minutes turned up a few low spec cars and high mileage cars starting at about £800. For that sort of money, find me something better.