Motorway service stations are still worth missing out

Suppose you’re on your way back from a classic car show and feeling a tad peckish. Where are you going to stop?

It’s one of the questions I'm forever wondering when I'm out and about, cruising the highways and byways of Britain in all manner of classics in the quest to find a spot of decent en-route grub. The irony is that the usual place we end up stopping – motorway service stations – are largely locked in the 1970s.

Like multi-storey car parks designed for Austin 1100 owners, quaint farm entrances on the A1 and Little Chef restaurants, they’re a bit of Britain’s motoring empire which haven’t really caught up with the 21st century yet. If you happen to be shooting through the more scenic bits of the M6 in Cumbria you’re in luck – Westmorland Services, thanks to a combination of the nearby Lakeland scenery and its insistence on farm fresh local produce, is a joy to visit – but almost all of the rest are a not-especially-appealing exploration of fast food takeaways and overpriced fry-ups.

Of the alternatives, I’ve always had a soft spot for Little Chef, but the firm’s will-it-won’t-it skirt around potential demise makes us wonder whether we can count on an Olympic Breakfast in years to come. We’re also quite keen on the Route 66 vibe of OK Diner, frequented by A1-bound Elvis lovers, but we’d only make it an occasional joy unless we really wanted to emulate the Memphis rocker in his Vegas years.

Yet these aside – and the option of the shady butty van in a layby for the risk-takers among our resident food fanatics – stopping on journeys for a bite is almost always a succession of depressing service station eateries. That’s why one of the latest books to land at the Classic Car Weekly offices – Near The Motorways, by Hugh Cantlie, proved a bit of a hit with our hacks. Fed up with a succession of KFC Boneless Banquets, two-hour parking restrictions and toilets which all too often resemble that scene out of Trainspotting, it gave us hope that we might actually find a culinary delight to truly satisfy our post-show cravings.

The irony is that during the pre-motorway era of your mum and dad actually driving around A35s, Anglias and Minors the chances of getting a meal you’d enjoy – rather than ramming down your throat in under five minutes – were actually better.

Where do you stop for a bite to eat on your classic car journeys? I’d love to know whether you’re as keen as we are to give motorway service stations a miss

Life On Cars gets a guest column in Classic Car Weekly!

2013 Ormskirk MotorFest proves a spectacular petrolhead success

WHAT do a Le Mans-winning Bentley, some thundering stock racers and a brigade of cute old bubble cars have in common?

 If, like me, you were one of the thousands of petrolheads to pay a visit to Ormskirk last weekend then you’ll already know the answer, because all three – and about 300 other cars and bikes besides – were the stars of a free-for-all motorsport spectacular which managed to get the town’s one-way system echoing to a spot of V8 thunder.

This year’s Ormskirk MotorFest, thanks partly to a welcome helping of scorching sunshine, has managed what I was suspecting to be impossible; attracting even more visitors to Ormskirk than the previous two.

With my slightly sick-sounding MG having only limped to the show’s static displays this year (it’s in need of a bit of classic car TLC) I gave going out in the parade a miss this year, but that meant I could really revel in looking around some of the stunning machinery on show. Sure, there was the very Bentley which stormed to victory at Le Mans a decade ago taking pride of place by the clock tower, but it only took a little extra digging to discover some equally eyeball-grabbing cars with some fantastic stories behind them – take, for instance, the 1948 Allard which just happens to be the exact same car the company showed off at the London Motor Show in Earls Court 65 years ago.

A car that’s now cherished by a car lover in Holmeswood, which brings me to the heart of what I love about the Ormskirk MotorFest – that almost all of the cars and bikes are from Sefton, West Lancashire, and the immediate surrounding area. Ormskirk on the August Bank Holiday Sunday has, a result, become an opportunity for thousands of you to find just how much passion there is for motoring in this part of the world.

It was a treat to see the flotilla of 1950s bubble cars being followed up the hill towards the parish church by a succession of Jags, Astons and Bentleys, but it was even more of a joy to see the crowds which had turned out to see them. When Wilf Blundell’s old stock car racer fired into life, the atmosphere tingled with excitement.

In an age where I’ve seen people happily pulling in excess of £50 out of their pockets to pay for a car show ticket, there’s something wonderfully egalitarian about thousands of people packing into Ormskirk, free of charge, to see some beautiful cars strutting their stuff on the town’s streets.

I’ll redouble my efforts to get the MG mended for next year’s event!

The Nürburgring is paradise for petrolheads

AS I SIPPED on a cold Weissbeer and clocked the sight of dozens of classic cars lining the street I came to a conclusion. I had discovered Disneyland for cars.

Imagine taking a beautiful swathe of heavily-forested German countryside and carving a racetrack through it so large that entire villages nestle within it. Then populate the entire area with lovely people, almost of all whom speak perfect English, and brim the tanks in every bar until they’re almost overflowing with frothy, continental beer. Finally, organise a big party and invite pretty much everyone in the whole of Europe with an even vaguely nice car to bring it over and have a blast. That’s pretty much why the Nürburgring is the ultimate petrolhead pilgrimage. It really is a theme park dedicated entirely to burning rubber and revving engines.

A colleague and I were there – via a ferry trip to Rotterdam and a blast across Holland in an MGB that’s considerable shinier than mine – to cover something called the AVD Oldtimer Grand Prix, which sounds a bit tally-ho but is in fact three days of watching BMW M1s, Jaguar E-Types and even old Lotus F1 cars screaming around the home of the German Grand Prix.

The Nürburgring complex really is like AutoDisney, with a tacky gift shop to match – I resisted the urge to blow 40 Euros on a toaster which burns the outline of the Nürburgring onto your freshly heated bread – but in truth it was the party atmosphere in the villages within ‘Ring country which make it worth the visit.

Swiss-registered Ferraris, French Alpine A310s and more German-registered 911s than I’ve ever seen parked up right alongside the MG, which was flying the flag for British car fans – and almost everyone wanted to enjoy a chinwag, and to hell with the language barrier. As the sun set over the 15th-century timbered buildings in the centre of Adenau and the evening light highlighted the soft curves on a hundred sports cars, I realised I’d found an absolute gem of a place.

In fact, my only real regret was not being able to experience AutoDisney’s answer to Space Mountain, Oblivion and The Pepsi Max Big One rolled into one; the fearsome Nordschleife, which with 79 corners over no less than 13 miles is the longest (and possibly scariest) racetrack anywhere in the world. A scary racetrack which pretty much anyone, for the sake of 20 Euros, can drive around!

There’s always a next time, of course, but even though I’ve yet to sample its biggest attraction I can safely say the cars and the feelgood vibe alone should put the Nürburgring on any car lover’s list of holiday destinations.

The childhood game motorists play at their peril

I SPY, with my little eye, one of the biggest threats to your summer holiday car journey. Something beginning with ‘I’.

Regular readers might recall that a few months ago I declared wasps as the single deadliest distraction to drivers, on the basis that having one sting you mid-drive is the only thing other than breaking down in a motorway contraflow which could provoke my genuine panic behind the wheel. That is, however, until a couple of colleagues and I decided to break up the boredom of a long journey by resorting to an old childhood favourite.

I Spy – the children’s game, not the adorable series ofMichelin-branded spotters’ guides – started easily enough. S, of course, was for sky, followed shortly afterwards by T for trees, so we upped the stakes a bit, introducing trickier in-car teasers like C for choke – yes, we were in something old enough to have one – and multiple word mind-bogglers like C E for Cat’s Eyes. Even though it was getting dark and we were a cold, noisy old classic car, the drive to our destination – Harwich ferry port, but that’s another story for another Life On Cars column – the miles just flew by.

By this point, we were feeling really cocky, throwing in I Spy absurdities which required some genius thinking of the truly lateral variety. It took a good ten minutes to work what began with S and “was all around us”, thanks to the answer being the entire county of Suffolk, while only the truly anal would have worked out A for Asphalt. Normally, by this point we would have stopped playing and gone to the nearest pub, but we had a ferry to catch and no choice but to plough into the night.

In fact, the game was so engaging we were still playing it when we pulled into the port – the Port of Felixstowe, which anyone with even the vaguest sense of geography will tell you is emphatically not Harwich and at least half an hour in the wrong direction. How did three grown men all manage to miss a major turning to one of the biggest docks in Britain? By getting completely lost in a game mst of us stop playing at the age of nine and only recommence well into parenthood.

While I’ve managed to get utterly lost on trips before – I knew, for instance, I’d missed the turning for the M25 the other week when I started seeing red double deckers and Cockneys loitering outside tube stations – it’s only thanks to the mind-distorting distracting powers of I Spy that we managed to end up in Felixstowe rather than Harwich, desperately late for a ferry.

I Spy a simple childhood game adults in a rush play at their peril.

SEAT needs to find its signature dish

WHEN Withnail and I paid a visit to Penrith they demanded the finest wines known to humanity. When my companion and I ended up there, on a soaked excuse for an evening last week, we ended up staring at the menu outside a Spanish restaurant.

I mention this because – even with every other restaurant in town shut for the night – we still preferred to pop to the nearest chip shop instead because we just didn’t fancy Spanish cuisine. There’s nothing wrong with Spanish cuisine, of course – we just decided we’d rather dine on something slightly more familiar.

It’s exactly the same, I reckon with Spanish cars – by which, of course, I mean SEAT. So far this year, I’ve tried both the new Leon and the hatchback it replaced, and both ticked all the buttons in a nourishing, one-of-your-five-a-day sort of way. Both were effortless when they were on the motorway, entertaining when they weren’t and built with the sort of attention to detail that’d give a chess champion a headache.

Great cars, then, but I can’t think of a single reason why you’d buy one.

SEATs are supposed to be the sportier Spanish cousins of VWs but they aren’t – they are, especially if you look at the Mii and the Alhambra, VW models with a slight nip ‘n’ tuck and a different badge. If I want a VW with a sense of mischief, I’ll get a Golf GTI.

"But SEATs are usefully cheaper than VWs, aren’t they?" I hear you cry. Again, SEAT’s usurped on this one by Skoda, who not only make their cars cheaper than VW’s but more interesting and engaging too. The Yeti, in particular, fills a niche nobody else at Europe’s biggest car maker does by being the perfect car for anyone who owns a Labrador, while the Superb caters perfectly for anyone looking for a car with an overly confident name. They might as well have called it the Skoda Awesome or even the Skoda Screw You, It’s Better Than Your Car, Mate.

SEAT, on the other hand, produces a range of cars that are just as good as anything VW, Skoda and Audi can come up with but there’s no signature dish to woo you with its exotic aromas. There’s no impossibly powerful Leon Cupra R any more, or a small sports car to fill the gap the Fiat Barchetta and the MGF left. Reheating what was admittedly a great dish – the old Audi A4 – in the microwave is not going to get my tastebuds going.

For now, my vote’s still with fish and chips. The Ford Focus, in other words.

You don't have to be a woman to appreciate the Ford Fiesta

FORD’S Fiesta is one of my motoring favourites – and, judging by the stash of awards it’s been showered with, quite a lot of you like it too.

So you might have missed that the clever EcoBoost version has just been crowned Women’s World Car of the Year. I still can’t quite get my head around - and I know I’m probably going to get a few sexism bells ringing straight away – the idea of a motoring award judged entirely by women. Surely, what makes it excellent engenders it to either gender?

In the same way that a MOWO Awards would provoke no end of controversy in the music world, a Men’s Car of the Year would get every member of the Germaine Greer fan club on the organisers’ case, asking how they could dare to disregard the needs of 50% of the world’s population. But as far as I can tell, WWCOTY is pointless because the ladies like the Fiesta for exactly the same reasons as everybody else does.

The women on the panel are all experienced motoring hacks and raved about the Fiesta because it crams fun, feistiness, eco-consciousness, safety and – dare I say it – sex appeal into a small, value-for-money package – pretty much exactly the same reasons I love the current Fiesta. In fact, with the possible exception of Peugeot’s 208 I reckon it’s still the best supermini, five long years after it was launched.

Women’s World Car of the Year though, I reckon, reinforces by its very existence the urban myth that women don’t know as much about cars as men do – something which is, of course, complete cobblers. There are plenty of women who I’ll happily ask for an opinion on for a matter of motoring, particularly because there’s quite a few of them who actually know aspects of the subject better than I do!

 If it were a case that all motoring awards panels were stuffy, gentlemen’s club affairs which hadn’t moved out of the 1950s and genuinely thought women’s opinions weren’t worth considering, than I’d understand. But I grew up in a post-Thatcher era of Girl Power where Vicki Butler-Henderson’s views on cars meant as much as Jeremy Clarkson’s did. Female opinions on motoring matter too much for them to be sidelined into their own gender-specific awards.

Ford’s Fiesta is just a brilliant little car, full stop. You don’t have to be a woman to know that…

The motoring mysteries Life On Cars still needs to solve

THIS year is definitely the year of the anniversary. Porsche’s 911 is 50, the Corvette is 60, and even the humble Hillman Imp has knocked up its first half century.

So it’s probably passed you by that today marks four years since Life On Cars choked into cyberspace for the first time. Since then, this blog – and the sister newspaper column in The Champion – have gone on a high octane journey through a world of car shows, reviews and test drives, taking in a few broken down Minis and sunburnt afternoons along the way.

However, there are a few questions which – despite having a finger on the pulse of all matters motoring since 2009 – still haven’t been answered. Niggling issues and unsolved mysteries, such as…

Does The Audi Lane actually exist? 

The more I drive on motorways, the more I’m convinced the outer lane has – perhaps through the signing of a secret EU protocol at a summit in deepest Ingolstadt – been reserved exclusively for cars with four rings on the radiator grille. Whether you’re in an entry-level A1 or a thumping A7 V12 TDI, your 95mph entrance into The Audi Lane is politely welcomed. Daring to venture there, however, in anything other than an Audi seems to result in the image above dominating your rear view mirror…

Can I get Allegrodote into the motoring lexicon?

An Allegrodote, in case you missed the article earlier this year, is an anecdote solely covering the Austin Allegro, particularly if it’s one that isn’t true. With BL’s great hatchback hope itself celebrating its fortieth birthday, it’d be great to see whether the car which inspires more urban myths than any other could be given its own special term to mark the anniversary.

Is the Renault Clio the most sensible secondhand car ever?

It struck me earlier today that almost everyone I know seems to have an owned a second generation Renault Clio, made by the French firm between 1998 and 2006. Whether it’s the 1.5DCI diesel – of £30 a year road tax fame – or the strikingly quick Renaultsport Clio 172, they do seem to reflect frankly ridiculous value for money. Which is why, I suspect, most of my mates have got one.

Why do cheeseburgers at car shows always cost £5.50? 

This one I’ve yet to understand – a cheeseburger at a car show, whether you’re in Dorset or Cheshire, Lancashire or Lanarkshire, almost always costs £5.50, making me suspect there’s some sort of layby-based cabal somewhere determining the price. That is, of course, with the exception of the Goodwood Festival of Speed, which when I visited earlier this year marked itself out as a car show of a higher calibre. This, I think, explains the £8 you paid for a burger there.

What will the next Fiat 500 spinoff be? 

We’ve already had the 500C, the Abarth, the hideous 500L, the even more hideous 500L MPW and now the frankly unbearable 500L Tracking. Chances are that by this time next year you’ll be able to buy a 500 Roadster, a 500XXL Fire Engine, a 500 Beach Buggy and perhaps a 500 Submarine. All of which will be worth £500 in a used car auction near you in the not-too-distant future.

Can you go green-laning in an electric car? 

I was wondering this earlier today when I’d stopped laughing at the Hummer electric car a UK design firm has come up with. Land Rover came up with an electric Defender earlier this year, but I am left wondering what would happen to an electric 4X4 if, for instance, you took it wading through a river in the Cumbrian countryside. Potentially, the results could be shocking…

Why are Peugeot interiors always messy?

An old colleague of mine got so cross when I put this particular pet theory across that the column I’d been planning for that week got quietly canned, for offending owners of 307s everywhere. It does, however, leave the ongoing mystery as to why so many unloved car interiors I’ve seen are in Peugeots, from a 406 Estate practically blacked by cigarette smoke, the 407 with Seventies-esque disco lighting on account of its numerous technical warnings, and a 206 lined with old McDonalds bags and a distinct whiff of vomit, even though it was barely a year old at the time.

Do ‘GB’ plates make you motor look more modern? 

A mate of mine put this to me today and – annoyingly – he’s absolutely right, although I’m not entirely sure why. All afternoon I’ve been checking out whether cars have the telltale EU blue strip at the side of the numberplate, and determined that all the cars that do somehow look newer than otherwise identical ones which don’t. Weird, but true.

Why are all classic cars described online as ‘BRAN FIND’? 

Genuine classics which are in ‘barn find’ condition are worth a fortune – witness, for instance, the E-Type which sold at auction for £109,000 after spending most of its life hidden away in the aforementioned agricultural building. However, that doesn’t excuse clumsy eBay sellers flogging any old tat as a ‘barn find’, inadvertently mis-spelling it as ‘BRAN FIND’ in the process. In the world of crap secondhand buys, any car of any age or merit can be described as ‘BRAN FIND’ if it's spent even a short of amount of time in a garage or other building.

Will my MGB GT ever be finished? 

Speaking of which, my MGB – which actually did spend a decade of its life in a barn – has over the past three of Life On Cars’ four years kept me busy with visits to shows and appearances in the pages of Classic Car Weekly. While it’s had a small fortune spent on it there are many, many jobs it could still benefit from – least of all, a proper tune up after its latest excursion made it sound like a cement mixer with a cold. I wager, though, that it’s the automotive equivalent of painting the Forth Bridge. Maybe it’s a job that’s never meant to get finished…

Life On Cars thanks both of its readers for all their support over the past four years

How did I ever survive without air conditioning?

HERE’S one to ponder over your post-work pint tonight. Have you an invention so useful you hardly notice when you’re using it, yet to have it malfunction would prompt a crisis of unimaginable proportions?

My vote, obviously, would go for the internet. My first question at any hotel reception I end up on work assignments is what the WiFi code is; my second, when they tell me it’s a tenner a night, is how they think they can away with charging for a service that’s as an essential a part of your stay as having towels in your bathroom and a key for your room. Having access to Facebook and Twitter in one of those 21st century essentials you just can’t do without.

But there’s an in-car invention which – at the moment at least – I’ve been noting by its absence; air con. Even though my job primarily involves working with older cars, a lot of the journeys to shows up and down the country have been at the wheel of cars far newer than my own. Cars which, without exception, were a prod of a plastic button away from a refreshing blast of artificially chilled air.

Even the Chevrolet Captiva, one of the worst cars I’ve driven all year, was saved from complete condemnation because it came with a powerful air con system on a sizzling summer afternoon. When you’re spoilt with the option of an air con button after an afternoon of traipsing around a hot, sticky car show, you simply stick it on, whack it up to full blast and forget about it. Car makers know this and as a result offer it on just about everything; on a truly scorching day, getting air con right can rescue something that's unspeakably rubbish just about everywhere else.

So when I had to do a four hour journey in a car which didn’t have air con – my 17-year-old Rover 214 SEI – it was painful how absent the cool air I’d become accustomed to was. No amount of opening windows or using the power of thought to try and make the dashboard somehow grow its own air con button could help me escape the reality of being sat inside what was effectively a 70mph greenhouse for hours on end. Still, it could be worse – after 25 minutes of stop-starting through one particularly bad traffic jam on the M62, the gentle rise of the temperature gauge indicated the engine was enjoying it even less than I was!

My point is that air con, once you’ve become accustomed to a car equipped with it, is one of those brilliant inventions you can’t really live without.

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.