Renaultsport and Red Bull join forces for F1-inspired Megane

The latest version of Renault’s Megane will give you wings, if its F1-inspired name is anything to go by.

Renault said it had teamed up with energy drink giants Red Bull to create a new version of its hot hatch with the name of the F1 team on its rump, of which just 30 will be shipped into Britain. The Mégane Renaultsport Red Bull Racing RB8, to give it its full name, will cost Sebastian Vettel fans £28,245.

The French firm said: "The Mégane Renaultsport is already hailed by many as the ultimate hot hatch, so the arrival of a new Formula One inspired and Red Bull Racing-branded limited edition is set to ensure it flies even more than the standard model.

"Renault and Red Bull Racing this year celebrated their third Formula 1 Constructors’ world title and the new Mégane looks another sure-fire winner."

The Red Bull Megane isn’t the first time Renault has introduced an F1-branded hot hatch into the UK, with the Clio Williams proving to be a hit with keen drivers back in 1993.

Škoda's go-faster Octavia ready for August launch

PRICES for a family-friendly slingshot from Škoda will start at just under £23,000 when it goes on sale next month.

The company’s performance twist on the latest Octavia, the RS, is available with either a 220bhp petrol engine or a 184bhp turbodiesel, which is packed into either the sleek hatchback or the load-lugging estate.

Alasdair Stewart, the company’s UK brand director, said: "The new Octavia vRS has a very special place in the heart of everyone at Škoda.

"It unites our love of motorsport, sharp design and bold engineering, and is one of the most exciting cars we’ve ever made."

The cheapest version, the petrol estate, starts at £22,990, with the entire Octavia RS range going on sale on August 1.

American cars? Be careful what you wish for

IT’S the baking heat, one too many cheeseburgers, and The Beach Boys blasting out over the loudspeakers which I blame for my latest motoring misadventure.

Cast your mind back a couple of weeks, to that first swelteringly hot Saturday of July. While you were queuing up for ice cream served by a bald bloke in the back of an ancient Bedford van I was rolling up in the grounds of a stately home in Cheshire that, for the day at least, had become a little overseas corner of California. Acres of nothing but old American cars – that’s the Stars ‘n’ Stripes show at Tatton Park for you.

Old Yank tanks aren’t normally my bag but what started out as a work assignment quickly became an indulgence in fins, chrome and people wearing precious little but denim shorts and cowboy hats. As Sweet Home Alabama belted out of the stereo and I wandered, slightly heat hazed, through a sea of Confederate flags, pick-up trucks and Cadillacs, I might have got a bit carried away with the whole yee-ha-aren’t-American-cars-brilliant thing. I left Tatton Park not just with plenty of pictures, but my very own American dream too.

Wouldn’t It Be Nice, I pondered, to don my best pair of shades, stick on a cowboy hat and get behind the wheel of an American car myself? My head, for about a fortnight afterwards, was full of ideas. Perhaps I could lower the power-operated hood on a ’62 Cadillac – so much cooler than the Thelma and Louisa ’59 model – and cruise down the nearest sun-kissed boulevard, or play the rebel without a clue in a Chevrolet El Camino SS (Google it, trust me). I even entertained the idea, despite the ongoing Queer As Folk connotations in this country, of blagging a go in a Jeep Wrangler.

I really, really, wanted to go for a drive in an American car. Unfortunately, fate dealt me with a cruel hand and gave me one.

True, it was a Chevy, but it wasn’t an old Corvette or Bel Air. It wasn’t even the intriguingly entertaining Camaro Convertible I tried last year. It was a Captiva, which is the Vauxhall Antara’s cheapskate American cousin. Only it isn’t really all that American because – like the Antara – it was developed and made in South Korea. Not that I’d mind if it was any good, but it isn’t. It’s roomy and generously equipped, for sure, but it’s not especially nice to drive, uninspiring to look at, and the materials on the inside feel at least a generation behind most of the competition. It’s not as bad as Ssangyong’s Korando, but that other Korean contender, Kia’s Sportage, runs rings around the Captiva.

Worst of all, it’s a Chevrolet, so you know full well that while your Stateside cousins are lapping up the sunshine in proper American cars, you’re getting lumbered with what’s basically a old Daewoo cast-off. Still, I was looking for a drive in an American car, and I sort of got one.

As the saying goes, be careful what you wish for.

Lydiate Classic Car Show nails the feelgood vibe

THERE was a back-to-basics vibe about last weekend’s Lydiate Classic Car Show which I couldn’t help but love.

If you were there – and chances are that, if you’re a petrolhead in this part of the world, you were – you’ll know what I’m on about, but if you weren’t then you missed a treat. For the past six summers there’s been a gathering of all things automotive and vaguely old in a field behind the parish hall, but it’s got better and better to the point where I reckon it’s blossomed into a bit of a gem in the classic car nut calendar.

Sure, there was the usual brigade of Triumphs, MGs and Healey Sprites lapping up the summer sunshine (including a slightly shabby MGB GT owned by a certain Champion contributor) but this year’s show in particular really did have something for everyone, with everything from 1930s Rolls-Royces to 1950s bubble cars to the two-stroke clatter of a procession of Vespa and Lambretta scooters.

In fact, my favourite car of the show by far was a 1955 Land Rover – I’ve got a soft spot for old Series Ones – which had a used ‘n’ abused look which lent it a nostalgic patina in a sea of glinting chrome and polished paintwork. Everyone I spoke to at last Sunday’s show came up with the same verdict – that it was a cracker, even if you discount the sizzling sunshine which has left my face and arms a painful shade of Parcelforce red.

Lydiate’s show is, in the simplest terms, a field with some old cars and a couple of stalls thrown it, but it’s the atmosphere which makes it such an appealing event. By keeping it simple, the organisers have nailed something even far bigger shows sometimes struggle with. A feelgood vibe.

The best thing, though, was that the £2 entry fee wasn’t going to brim someone’s pocket – every single penny went to Cancer Research UK, including the sponsorship money provided by Maghull firm P & G Motor Factors, who stepped in at the last minute to provide the volunteers with a bit of a funding boost. The hi-vis jacketed volunteers running around herding Ford Zodiacs into makeshift parking spaces really were volunteers too – doing it because they loved it – and my hat goes off to them for it.

I love giving a few quid to the charity as much as the next chap but I reckon taking my MG to a classic car show is far more fun than running a marathon or sitting in a bathtub brimmed with beans.

For more pictures and a full report from the Lydiate Classic Car Show check out next week's edition of Classic Car Weekly, published on Wednesday, July 17.

BAC Mono: The supercar with a scouse accent

THE makers of a single-seater supercar have decided to relocate to Liverpool after being swamped with orders from speed-seeking buyers.

BAC, who until now have been based in Cheshire, said that following the success of their Mono model they have decided to move to a larger factory on Merseyside, and will set up shop at a site in Speke next year. Joe Anderson, the mayor of Liverpool, said: "This is great news for Liverpool. BAC is an ambitious, visionary company, and its desire to relocate to our city speaks volumes for our business offer. The support we have provided will help create new jobs and apprenticeships and further build our reputation as a city of automotive excellence.

"The Jaguar Land Rover plant in Halewood has been a real success story for our city in creating jobs in commercial car production – I’m confident that this deal with BAC will prove to be another success, in creating opportunities at the specialist end of the market. BAC Mono is a prestigious brand, and it’s fantastic that motoring and racing enthusiasts alike will know that a car which is turning heads wherever it goes – whether on the road or track – is made in Liverpool."

The company’s Mono model is one of the fastest British cars currently in production, and recently posted the second fastest ever lap of the Top Gear track, beaten only by the Pagani Huayra.

Liverpool has a longstanding association with car manufacture, particularly with the former Ford plant at Halewood, which is now used by Jaguar Land Rover to produce the Land Rover Freelander and Range Rover Evoque.

Why the VW Up GT could be the perfect car for West Lancashire

GREAT news if you’re a petrolhead in Parbold. VW could be about to launch the perfect set of wheels for West Lancashire.

I worked this out the other day when I was buzzing down the country lanes the other day, in a bottom-of-the-range Volkswagen Up. The cheapest car Europe’s biggest car company makes – if you discount its cheaper but otherwise identical cousins, the Skoda Citigo and the SEAT Mii – is one I’ve just the best part of 2,000 miles with. It’s a flawed gem of a car because it comes with as many drawbacks as it does delights – but that’s why I’m convinced this tiny city tot is perfect if you’re darting around the outskirts of Ormskirk.

Its 1.0 litre, triple-cylinder engine is perfect, for instance, for dealing with the rash of 20mph speed limits recently imposed across much of the borough, but it’s very hard work on the motorway. When you put your down, the sixty horses beneath the bonnet don’t rampage to the rescue – they call a meeting, to discuss at length how best to deal with the unexpected demand for some oomph. Eventually, long after the overtaking opportunity’s gone, they reluctantly deal you some speed.

The Up’s also hampered by a tiny boot, but by far its most annoying feature is the lack of fuel range. It’s superbly good at sipping the unleaded rather than downing it like a student at a freshers party, but because it’ll only take £45’s worth you’re forever stopping to fill it up on longer trips. These however, are minor moans about a motor I’ve really grown fond of. I love the faintly Porsche-esque throb the three cylinder motor makes – at least it sounds fast – and that it offers handling, rather than grip, through the bends. It’s also cheap to buy and run, pleasing to behold and far better trimmed on the inside than its Citroen, Peugeot and Fiat rivals.

Its petite proportions mean it’s perfectly sized for the narrow lanes which cris-cross West Lancashire, the suspension’s smooth enough to iron out the bits the county council haven’t got around to mending yet, and the handling means you can tackle the many corners with confidence. In fact, all it needs is a bit more power, to deal with the climb over Parbold Hill.

Luckily, VW has realised this and is getting ready to release the Up GT, the 109bhp hot hatch version, any day now. If they sort out it out with a bigger fuel tank, it really could be the perfect car for West Lancashire’s roads.

Can’t wait to find out.

Lydiate Classic Car Show takes place this weekend!

ANYONE who loves their classic cars and bikes will love a celebration of all things motoring being held for a very good cause in Lydiate this weekend.

The Lydiate Classic Car Show, which takes place at Lydiate Parish Hall this Sunday (July 7) will see dozens of enthusiasts from across Merseyside, West Lancashire and further afield show off their vehicles to help raise much-needed funds for Cancer Research UK.

Among the show's classic car entrants will be the Life On Cars MGB GT - fresh from its latest appearance in Classic Car Weekly - and visitors can check out dozens of classic saloons, sports cars, coupes and plenty more at the Merseyside venue, opposite the Scotch Piper pub.

The show, which takes place between 10am and 4pm, costs £2 to attend, with proceeds going to Cancer Research UK. For more information visit the event's Facebook group.

The Fiat 500 MPW is a stretch too far

By unveiling a seven-seater version of the 500, Fiat has finally solved one of the world’s great ongoing mysteries. Finally, the question of who ate all the pies has been answered!

The 500 MPW got my automotive gag reflex going when I first clocked eyes on it a couple of weeks ago. Since then, I’ve seen it through increasingly squinty, curious eyes, trying to make sense of where it’s coming from. I’m a huge fan of the 500 and understand it’s been the biggest Italian success story since that chap finished painting the roof of the Sistine Chapel. I also understand that BMW put the MINI through the Supersize Me treatment and the bloated result, the Countryman, was a sales hit.

Naturally, the bosses in Turin have put two and two together… and ended up with seven. While I was already struggling with the recently inflated version of Fiat’s city slicker, the 500L, the new MPW really is a stretch too far. To my mind at least, it’s the ugliest automotive offering since Ford put the Scorpio out of its misery.

Which is a shame, because I’ve always had a soft spot for the 500 (and pretty much every other tiny Fiat, for that matter). In fact, a glorious hour at the helm of an Abarth 500C Essesse, enjoying the sunshine through its open roof, reveling in its handling and listening to its little four-pots sing as you headed up through the gears, is among my most treasured motoring memories. The 500 is a car whose sole reason for existence is to make being small into something fun. A seven-seater family bus it is not.

Chances are the 500L MPW will be keenly priced, comfortable, spacious and reliable, but then so is a Skoda Yeti, or a Nissan Qashqai, neither of which look like a smaller car that’s spent a month eating nothing but Melton Mowbrays. I’m also fairly confident that people, even ones with a vague sense of aesthetics, will buy it, just as they did with the MINI Countryman.

All of that I understand, but what I don’t is that someone, at the same company which gave you the beautiful Barchetta, the challenging Coupe and the chic, original reinvention of the 500 clearly looked at it and thought “Mmmm, that’s nice.”

Slightly bloated beauty, in this case, is definitely in the eye of the beholder.

Yesterday was brilliant for motoring TV

IN THE middle of a summer stashed full of car shows, last weekend was all about staying in. Specifically, it was about some of the best petrolhead telly in years.

Whether you’re an F1 addict or someone who – like me - occasionally dips into motorsport’s equivalent of the Premier League, the British Grand Prix last weekend offered up some of the most gripping racing I’ve seen in ages. Bored of Wimbledon and unsure whether I’m either too cool or not quite cool enough to get into Glastonbury, I happily flicked over to Silverstone for a bit of V8-powered relief.

Naturally, being British, I wanted Lewis – who’d qualified on pole – to win. If that’d happened I’m pretty sure the Queen herself would have arrived to congratulate him, the Northamptonshire circuit would have been treated to a flypast by the Red Arrows and the nation would have breathed a collective sigh of relief after realizing we can still win at something. Unfortunately, a bit of a puncture on his Pirellis, early on into the race, left him at the back of the grid. Lewis’ loss, however, was the fans’ gain, because it was one of the tensest races I’ve seen in years.

The screamer from Stevenage didn’t manage to win, but he did succeed in getting from last to fourth, via some pretty spectacular driving, while Mark Webber came out of nowhere to snatch second. Meanwhile, in my living room, I grunted the excited squeak of a farmyard animal when Sebastian Vettel’s gearbox gave up the ghost. Frankly, I loved the whole unpredictable spectacle. Speaking of the predictable, I’d been counting down the days until that other great staple of petrolhead telly – Top Gear – romped back into the schedules later that evening, regardless of whether you love it or hate it.

For what it’s worth, I still think there’s a yawning great chasm – probably somewhere in the depths of BBC Four – for a proper, sensible TV show about all matters motoring, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy TG’s return. The more flak that gets thrown at Top Gear by Daily Mail readers, the stronger the show’s content seems to get – and Jezza, Slow and Hamster have been through the usual barrage of pre-show criticsm. That’s why I’m expecting great things from the hour I swap the driver’s seat for the sofa each Sunday night.

Car shows every other weekend, some vaguely summer-esque weather to enjoy driving for a change and Top Gear on Sunday nights to round it all off nicely. Much better than standing around in a field in Somerset waiting for Mumford and Sons, I reckon!

Get set for the Cholmondeley Pageant of Power

Petrolheads can check out some of the world’s most exciting motors at a full-throttle show taking place in Cheshire this weekend.

The Cholmondeley Pageant of Power, which takes place on June 15 and 16, is being billed as one of the north west’s biggest motoring events and will give petrolheads the chance to see supercars and classics alike in action.

James Hall, event director for the Cholmondeley Pageant of Power, said: “The idea behind the Pageant is simple – to create the UK’s most thrilling day out and to ensure admission prices are incredible value for visitors.

“With some of the world’s most famous, most beautiful and loudest cars, from all areas of motorsport, this year’s Pageant will be bigger, better and louder, consolidating its reputation as a must-attend event.”

Relive the highlights of last year's event by clicking here and here.

Motorway pubs could prove the saviour of a Lancashire motoring landmark

SHERLOCK Holmes might have called it a two pipe problem. For me, a clash between two of my favourite things – real cars and real ale – is a two pint problem.

Until very recently I could enjoy both, but knowing the clear boundary between them. Most of my motoring life, particularly on still, summer evenings like the ones we’ve been having lately, involved a classic car of some sort, a quiet pub in the West Lancashire countryside and a refreshing, but legal, shandy. Similarly, if I wanted to be happy in the haze of a drunken hour, Merseyrail’s finest and a plethora of town centre pubs were my oyster.

That’s why new plans by JD Wetherspoon to start opening pubs at motorway service stations didn’t leave me angry or overjoyed. The idea, like a hangover, hurts my head slightly. On the one hand you can take the view of an old mate of mine who argued vociferously that allowing any pub, anywhere, to have a car park is encouraging driving while smashed.

Motorway service stations are essentially big car parks, albeit ones with overpriced coffee shops attached. What’s more, unlike even the quietest of country pubs they cannot be reached by public transport (National Express coaches don’t count).

The Daily Mail reader in me, therefore, thinks motorway service stations are a menace that’ll fuel a drink-driving epidemic. But then I remembered all those visits to Forton Services on the M6, gazed at the Gerry Anderson-esque architecture of the old restaurant tower and wondered which idiot it was who decided Britain’s motorists would no longer benefit from it. It’s a wonderful bit of Sixties architecture – and, on account of it being a listed building, it seems the powers that be agree with me – and I always feel slightly sad when I see it lingering above the Lancashire countryside, unloved and unused.

The idea of it being a family-friendly pub/restaurant job, albeit one festooned with signs warning the designated drivers not to fill up on John Smiths as well as unleaded, appeals more than seeing it not being used at all.

Last year, I put it to JD Wetherspoon that if they’re serious about opening a pub in Ormskirk, they should name it The Harold Wilson (and if they do, you heard it here first). Now I’m going to stick my neck out and suggest that if they’re going to throw caution to the wind and start opening pubs on the motorway, they might as well bring a Lancastrian landmark familiar to drivers across the North West back to life.

Well, the idea made sense at the pub anyway.

The Lamborghini Gallardo has cost me dearly in the pub bragging stakes

“WHAT’S the most powerful car you’ve ever driven?”

There is, in the days when top speed is considered a bit un-PC, still a certain validity about asking what’s the highest amount of bhp you’ve ever handled from one engine. Well, at least there is if you’re two petrolheads and it comes down to pub bragging rights! If you’ve ever wondered what those strange three letters – bhp – stand for, then wonder no more.

The standard way we Brits measure power goes back way beyond the dawn of motoring itself, and hails from the days when James Watt needed to show the world how brilliant his steam engine was. One horsepower – which was always measured at the steam engine’s brake, hence the b in bhp – was equivalent to the work one pit pony could do. It’s a measure which migrated from steam to petrol and, as a result, has obsessed Top Gear presenters ever since.

Naturally, I’ve got my most powerful car to date clearly jotted down in my mental notebook – the Jaguar XKR-S Convertible, which I drove last year. Its 5.0 litre, supercharged V8 churns out no less than 542bhp. Which, in pony terms, means it's enough to keep a discount supermarket supplier in business for several months.

Unfortunately, that hasn’t been enough to stop me getting outhorsepowered by my mate. He was treated to one of those ‘try a supercar for a day’ presents for his birthday and, as a result, got given a Lamborghini Gallardo to play with for a morning. I’ve been outgunned – by eight piffling brake horse power – and he hasn’t let me live it down since.

There are, of course, less childish ways to express a car’s oomph. If you want to be intelligent about it there’s the issue of power-to-weight ratio, which is why said mate is hard at work cramming no less than 170bhp into an old Rover Metro, which in theory, should give it the same sort of punch – if not cornering prowess – as a Porsche Boxster. Then there’s the mysterious world of torque, which would take the next three weeks of motoring columns to explain properly but is why so many not-that-powerful turbodiesel cars are so good at overtaking.

Raw power, however, has a certain mine’s-got-more-than-yours childish appeal which still appeals to petrolheads (and probably explains why I like TVRs so much). The best thing about horsepower, however, is that you don’t need to be a motoring journalist to outgun Yours Truly.

All you need to do is get given a certain birthday present, turn up at your nearest racing circuit, and have a blast!

Why the Honda Civic won me over

IT WAS in the wee small hours, long after you’d gone to bed, that a humdrum diesel hatchback stole my heart.

You would’ve found your petrolhead friend in unfortunate surroundings at precisely 00:32am the other Sunday night. A long drive across the country which had already started late was going from bad to worse, because while part of the M62 being closed off for overnight roadworks didn’t frustrate me a subsequent decision by another motorist to have a crash on the Highways Agency’s preferred alternative meant being diverted off the diversion, and what should have been a quick blast over the Pennines had turned into an agonisingly long crawl through Bradford city centre and then around Leeds at stupid ‘o’ clock.

Desperately needing to stay sharp and still the best part of 100 miles away from my destination, I pulled into what must qualify as Britain’s loneliest service station, somewhere near Pontefract. It was somewhere I’d suggest as a shooting location for anyone thinking of a filming a Brit adaptation of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, because it was just one semi-shut petrol station in a sea of unlit blackness, with a single, bored cashier and the distant rumble of a passing lorry every ten minutes to break up the inherent creepiness of my late night calling point.

Caffeine-crammed energy drink aside, I had just one weapon to hand should the road-horror-movie-in-the-making have got real. Fortunately, it was a good one; the 2.2 diesel version of Honda’s Civic.

Having driven one last year, I already knew the Civic had improved in quite a few crucial areas over the old one – namely, the redesign of the rear doors to stop people banging their heads as they got in and out – but at the expense of its wonderfully daring design being watered down a bit. A good car, then, but not as good as a Ford Focus. That was, however, until it decided to stop being a good car and start being a brilliant one, by using its turbocharged diesel whallop to devour the darkness over the rest of that journey.

Honda have always been good with engines but the 2.2 turbodiesel is, if munching through motorway miles is what you’re after, an absolute gem. Not only is it quiet, economical and smooth enough to win it friends in austerity-obsessed 2013 but it has so much mid-range whallop on offer that it makes easy work of overtaking just about anything.

With it being 1am on a quiet, unlit motorway, there wasn’t much call for being frustrated by the Civic’s chief niggle – the spoiler cutting right across your rear view – but the Blade Runner vibe of the digital dashboard, the build quality and the comfort completely won me over.

No, it wouldn’t be as much as a Focus on a windy country lane but in the freakishly early hours of the morning, when all you want to do is get home quickly and quietly, I know which one I’d rather have.

The MINI owners with 25 million tunes choose from

IF YOU’RE the sort of motorist who can never make their mind up about what music to listen to then you might be interested in a new optional extra for the MINI.

The company has joined forces with music download gurus Deezer to make their downloadable iPhone app link up with MINI models, meaning owners can have access to up to 25 million tunes while at the wheel.

A MINI UK spokesperson said: “Using Deezer in-car is secure and intuitive using the MINI joystick, steering wheel buttons and high-resolution colour display of the on-board monitor, where functions are displayed in the familiar MINI style.

 “The addition of Deezer to the MINI Connected line-up is yet another example of MINI’s future-proof and intelligent interconnection between driver, automobile and outside world.”

 The car must be fitted with the Radio MINI Visual Boost or the MINI navigation system to be able to use the service, and you must have an iPhone to access the tunes.

Bank Holiday weekends are no fun for motorists

So another Bank Holiday weekend’s been and gone. How was yours?

If you were sensible you probably spent it trying to shelter your pint from the searing heat of the sun in a beer garden of your choice, enjoying a round of a rather different sort at the Royal Birkdale or – if you were feeling adventurous – trying to avoid a DIY-induced trip to your nearest Accident & Emergency.

It’s just a shame, then, that I loathe Bank Holidays with a venom usually only reserved for Bob Geldof, the music of Will.i.am and the Kia Pride. Part of the problem is that – unlike days you’ve chosen to take our your holiday allowance, when the world truly is your oyster and you’re free to make whatever carefully considered plans you like for it – Bank Holidays are essentially days when the Government tells you that you must have fun. Whitehall telling you to enjoy yourself is like telling a six-year-old child to go to sleep – because of the imperatives involved, it ain’t gonna happen.

But worse still is the unintended but inevitable byproduct of Britain’s population being told, en masse, to have a good time; the slightly silly amounts of traffic on the major roads and motorways from clocking off work on Friday right through to the following Tuesday morning. As much I love cars and driving, even I was wishing someone would get on with inventing a successful teleportation system as I sat in the same two mile stretch of M6 for the 45th minute last Friday night. If you can liken Britain’s road network to a living, breathing thing, then the Bank Holiday weekend represents the clogged arteries that come after the nation collectively gorging itself on the double cheeseburger that is the working week.

I can see the retort coming already; perhaps, rather than being one of these people inconveniently helping cause a bit of congestion, I should have just avoided travelling? I would have loved to have travelled at a different time but I could only leave work to get where I needed to be when – you guessed it – work finished. I’d only dared venture onto the M6, at rush hour on a Friday night on a Bank Holiday weekend, because it connects where I’d come from with where I wanted to go. Thanks to the brilliance of Bank Holiday weekends, that’s the predicament everyone else was in too.

There was that idiotic suggestion by some Government think tank that Bank Holidays should be abolished altogether, but really what Whitehall ought to do, for the nation’s collective commuting sanity, is find a way of managing the congestion nightmares they cause for thousands of people, none of whom especially want to be stuck there.

That or get busy giving a grant to whoever can invent a teleporter.

Car clubs urged to lend their backing to this year's Lydiate Classic Car Show

Car clubs across the north west are being encouraged to help the organisers of a classic car show to help fund the battle against cancer.

The organisers of the Lydiate Classic Car Show said they were keen to hear from car clubs who would be interested to hear from any car clubs keen to bring their classics to Merseyside for the July 7 event, which will help to raise funds for Cancer Research UK.

Event co-organiser Ben Spears said: “Currently in its sixth year, the show has raised almost £10,000 for the cancer charity. “The entrance fee is a flat £2 for all, and as well as classic machinery on show there are also charity stalls, hot food and parts for sale.

"There is no need to pre book, you can just turn up on the day and pay on the gate, but it is always advisable to turn up early.”

The show, which takes place at Lydiate Parish Hall, opposite the Scotch Piper, between 10am and 4pm, feature classic cars and motorbikes from clubs across the region.

To find out more search for “Lydiate Classic Car Show” on Facebook or call Ben Spears on 07931 746 520.

Fire up the... Vauxhall Corsa 1.4 SRI

LIKE garnishing an omelette with a helping of jalapeños, Vauxhall’s hoping that treating its supermini to the sporty SRI treatment will give the Corsa some added spice.

While it’s not the hottest Corsa on offer – that honour going to the track day fan’s favourite, the VXR Nürburgring – this SRI screams potential, thanks to the 17-inch alloy wheels and the bodykit inspired by its leerier big brother. But before I can find out whether it’s as enticing to drive as it to behold, it’s time to get a confession out of the way. Over the past few years I’ve driven a couple of Corsas – primarily the 1.0 litre Ecoflex and the 1.2 petrol versions – and haven’t exactly heaped praise on them.

Happily, things get off to a good start with the SRI once you hop inside – the red stitching on the steering wheel and the scarlet seat surrounds immediately give you the air of being inside something a bit special without straying into boy racer territory, and it’s more than comfortable and amply equipped for its £15,600 price tag. It suffers from the same enormous blind spots as its Corsa siblings, but that aside it’s somewhere you’ll enjoy being on even the longest of trips.

Thanks to its clever variable valve timing system the 1.4 petrol engine offers up plenty of punch without resorting to turbocharging, but because the real oomph’s only to be discovered above 3,000rpm it’s a car that encourages you to drive it by the scruff of its neck – probably the reason why I only managed, despite my best efforts, to get a shade over forty to the gallon in it. It’s great for rev-happy blasts along country lanes, but effortless motorway overtaking really isn’t the SRI’s strong suit.

It’s a similarly mixed bag when you get to the corners too, because while it handles with plenty of aplomb the steering is nowhere near sharp enough to encourage a keen driver to start enjoying it. The SRI is keenly priced, handles well and is still one of the best looking superminis on the market – particularly after Ford’s not entirely successful facelift of the Fiesta – but in every other respect it’s comprehensively outclassed not just by the Fiesta, but by Peugeot’s 208 as well.

 It’s got plenty to offer, but until Vauxhall’s new Corsa comes on stream next year I couldn’t really recommend it.

The Aston Martin CC100 shocks for all the right reasons

OUTRAGEOUS. Attention-grabbing. Extrovert. Not words, chances are, you’ll have been using to describe Aston Martin’s offerings of late.

The company makes some of the most graceful motoring offerings on the market today and – right from the entry-level V8 Vantage to the reinvented Vanquish – they’re not exactly lacking in thumping amounts of torque and exhaust notes so good they induce goosebumps either. They’re all things of beauty, but shocking or genuinely surprising they aren’t. Stylistically at least all of Aston’s current range harks back to the DB9 of 2004, which in turn borrowed more than a few of its good looks from 1994’s DB7. 

That’s why the company’s latest concept car, the open-top, two-seater CC100, is such a breath of fresh air. It’s inspired by the car that brought Aston one of its greatest motorsport moments – the DBR1, which won Le Mans in 1959 – and is loud, lairy and just a little bit yellow in all the right places. Everything a brand new DB9 isn’t, basically.

The thing that really excites me about the CC100, though, is that the last genuinely eyeball-grabbing Aston concept, the 1998 Project Vantage, sired the original Vanquish three years later.

Fingers crossed we get a CC100 for the road, then!

Can a Nineties Rover be called a classic car?

Originally published in Classic Car Weekly, 28 April 2013

Don't get stung by one of driving's biggest distractions

IT WAS on a fine summer’s afternoon I discovered perhaps the most dangerous driving distraction known to man.

The Government’s answered calls – although not on a mobile phone while at the wheel, obviously – to up the penalty for those caught texting while driving to ninety quid. Rightly so, I reckon, because trying to spk 2 ur m8 abt 2nite while at the helm of an Audi A4 in the outside lane is, in anyone’s book, a recipe for disaster.

Unfortunately, the Ministry of Transport hasn’t yet found ways to legislate against some equally attention-grabbing, but rather less avoidable, motoring distractions. Nanny State could, for example, do something about those lorries you always find conveniently parked up in fields alongside motorways and dual carriageways, but of far more pressing concern are the appalling spelling, grammatical and punctual errors on an alarming number of them. One, at the side of the A1, reads “Believe ON the Lord Jesus Christ”*, which constantly provokes in-car debate about whether it’s best to believe while standing, quite literally, on the son of God. Another, plugging a car care specialist, proclaims “Diesel’s repaired”. Is it? Trust me, there are few things more dangerous while driving on a dual carriageway than being forced to consult my imaginary copy of Eats, Shoots and Leaves.

There’s also the unavoidable motoring horror of the sneeze, which not only blinds you entirely for half a second or so but, if it catches you off-guard, leaves the inside of your windscreen covered in snot (interior windscreen wipers, by the way, could be a great suggestion for anyone thinking of entering Dragons’ Den). Driving while preoccupied by a recent bereavement is a no-no too, and if you’re a man, there’s the added distraction of billboards with pictures of Keira Knightley on them.

All of these however, pale into comparision with the distraction I encountered on that gloriously sunny afternoon in the North Yorkshire countryside. I was driving a bright yellow Triumph Spitfire – read badly built Mazda MX-5 if you haven’t done your GCSEs yet – down the country lanes, lapping up the rays, when a bee landed on the inside of the windscreen. Seconds later, it flew off and landed straight on my chest. All the advanced driving lessons in the world can’t help prepare you for a spot of motoring melissophobia. How I didn’t crash someone else’s prized classic sports car, I will never know!

What’s more, while bees are fairly benign creatures which only sting when they’re threatened, I dread the day when a wasp – a useless species which stings small children just for fun – decides to join me for the drive.

The Government don’t just need to clamp down on texting drivers. They need to ban wasps as well.

*I am aware that 'on' and 'in' are both, for historical reasons, considered acceptable, but it still draws up interesting debates about the evolution of the English language. Just one I'd prefer not to have while driving along the A1.