Ford's Fiesta gets 'boosted

Downsizing. Whatever you think of it, it’s happening in a car near you. W12s have been replaced by V8 biturbos, V8s usurped by straight-sixes, and four-pots kicked into touch by three-cylinder motors. 

The latter aren’t anything new in cars; smart has been using them for years.  But Ford’s new one-litre, three-cylinder Ecoboost engine has really captured the imaginations of the motoring press and car buyers alike.

The three-cylinder unit looks tiny, even in the Fiesta's bay.

I spent a day with the white Ford Fiesta you see here, complete with Americanised and really rather hideous facelifted grille, as my own MkII Focus was undergoing testing for a water leak. That’s another story altogether, but this misfortune gave me the chance to try one of the cars of the moment.

The best thing about the 79bhp Ecoboost engine is the noise. At full throttle, it’s like listening to a Porsche’s straight-six several rooms away, but with a more bubbly back beat. Unlike the Fiesta’s old 1.25 and 1.4 engines with four-cylinders, there is much ear candy to gain from letting the Ecoboost motor spin up to the redline. It really is quite magnificent, and kids you into thinking you’re going faster than you really are.

The Fiesta’s Ecoboost engine is also super frugal. An A-road cruise in light traffic delivered just over 50mpg, far worse traffic only cutting that by 10mpg. And a faster run down the A2 at around 50mph saw the UK’s biggest selling car breach the 60mpg barrier. You’d be happy with that in a diesel powered car, and again, I never got near that in my old 1.4 Fester.

The Fiesta's cabin is generally OK, but can't dampen the three-pot's tune.

The only gripe I have with Ford’s new wonderchild relates to its refinement. Granted my courtesy car had only covered 750 miles and it’s running-in period will have been almost non existent.  But I really expected better. It’s noisy on start-up and jiggles your seat at idle. And my test car’s engine gave off a very strange reverberation at 2,500rpm on the overrun.  

But still, general impressions were very positive indeed.

Downsizing? It’s not all bad.

A Week For That?!

These temporary lights have been the bane of my life this week.

Much has been said about the way private companies carry out roadworks in the UK – the vast majority of it immensely negative. There has also been talk over a number of years about making roadworks more time efficient, as well as safer with better signposting and more clearly visible company contact details and so on. 

But from where I’ve been sitting this week – in my all too stationary car, waiting for temporary traffic lights to turn green so I can go to work – very little has changed. Work on seemingly small sites still takes forever, and the bigger the site, the more months companies need.

To my mind, there is a fundamental problem with how these companies and their employees go about work. Let me give you an example. The picture above was taken at 8:50am on a Friday, and as you can see, there isn’t a worker in sight. Why is that, exactly? There should be a swarm of blokes in high-vis jackets drilling and hammering away. And they should have been there at the crack of dawn, trying to get the work done before rush hour really kicks off.

The chaos these roadworks have caused in the surrounding area is truly unbelievable. They’re on the A232 on the edge of Wallington in Surrey, and each morning and evening, every possible rat run is teeming with cars, their drivers trying to escape the glut of metal on their usual route. As you can see from the picture, I've long given up on finding a faster alternative route – there just isn't one. Safer roadworks you say? How about getting the job done quicker so those behind the wheel aren’t forced to use narrow side roads in built-up areas, where pedestrians are more easily obscured.

The 20- to 30-minute delays these particular roadworks have caused have been going on for a week. And I wouldn’t mind that so much if a new bridge was being installed or new tarmac being laid, but there’s only a hole in the road about four metres long. What could possibly be going on down there that requires so many working days to fix? Of course, I call them working days, but then no employee seems to be at this site on time…

Sorry for the rant, but when I hear about what goes on in Germany where companies are prepared to work through the night to get any type of job done, it makes me wonder why firms digging up our soil can’t be like that.

Being The Victim

My Focus' damaged wing mirror without its plastic cover.

Recently, I was the victim of a crime. A crime, I suspect, many car owners have suffered. Tucked up in bed on a frosty night, I heard an almighty crack outside, followed by the skittering of what sounded like plastic on tarmac and then a hastily stoked engine. Something inside my brain somehow recognised it as the sound of two wing mirrors coming together, but another part of my onboard computer – the lazy side – was in denial the commotion outside could possibly involve my car. And so I went back to sleep.

Of course, after waking up the next morning, the reality of the situation hit me like a slap across the face, and I cursed myself for not jumping out of bed and peeping through the curtains, to see just what exactly had gone on in the night.

Up on the kerb across from my house, my Ford’s driver’s side wing mirror looked, well, odd. Relieved of its Sea Grey cover, the ugly, black, hole strewn plastic innards were exposed. And things got worse lower down – the indicator lense strip had vanished, leaving the orange indicator bulb dangling in the air, and the black plastic body which attaches to the car was askew and shard like. Bollocks!

Quickly dressed and muttering yet more expletives, I wandered across to my car, the victim, and surveyed the damage at close quarters. This didn’t help things, nor my mood. Then I noticed my car’s body coloured wing mirror cover lying in the gutter, completely in tact. The indicator strip was nearby, although hadn’t fared so lucky and was cracked badly.

And then I spotted the perpetrator’s mirror glass, smashed but still within its surprisingly small frame. Evidence. I even managed to recover the criminal’s manual mirror adjuster springs, which had obviously shot out of their mounts on impact. More evidence. And so began my fruitless prowling to catch the bastard that defaced my car. I live on a quiet and rather lovely housing estate, so I figured I had a good chance of finding the vehicle, but sadly, it was not to be.

Removing this tweeter speaker exposed the wing mirror bolts.

Out of this whole sorry episode, small consolation came in the form of pure, unbelievable luck. After being quoted a ridiculous £217 for a complete new wing mirror unit from Ford, and trawling eBay without a satisfying result – I didn’t fancy paying £55 for an aftermarket item that may or may not look the same as the passenger side OE wing mirror – as I last resort, I tried Gumtree. Tapping in the area I wanted to search, almost immediately popped up an ad for a complete and fully functioning, driver’s side wing mirror for a facelifted Ford Focus II. It had a silver cover but that didn’t matter because I could just swap it for mine which had somehow survived its brush with death. Best of all, this replacement was going for just £30.

This connector plug was a bugger to take out of its socket.

A seedy meeting with the seller three days later, and two hours of labour (it would have been 45 minutes had I not dropped a connecting plug into the door, necessitating the door card’s removal to extract it), and I had a car with two, fully formed ears again.

What have I learned from all of this? Firstly, that you should always tuck your car’s wing mirrors in, no matter how quiet the road you’ve parked on looks, and that you should never trust your neighbours. If indeed that is who got too close to my pride and joy. I also discovered, much to my surprise, that salvage companies aren’t that cheap – the best online quote I received for a complete Focus II mirror was £52. And I had no clue what it looked like.

Replacement wing mirror fitted, complete with old Sea Grey cover.

But perhaps the most shocking revelation of all, is that I am completely powerless to bring this criminal to justice – because that’s what they are, after all. I had the time and date the collision happened (about 4am on January 16 2013), I had evidence in the form of the wing mirror and adjusting springs, but no car or indeed motorbike, and no driver to pin them to.

I’ve put it all behind me now, though, and on a plus note I’ve learned another DIY job on my car, potentially saving me precious beer tokens in future. But not too soon, I hope, as there aren’t any replacement OE wing mirrors on Gumtree right now.

A Crushing Future?

Even Ford's new, entry-level petrol engine contains sophisticated tech.

Tri-turbo diesel engines, suspension that ‘sees’ the road through cameras and adapts itself accordingly; engine start-stop technology that calls into action a starter motor eight times stronger than a normal one, and automatic transmissions with no less than eight forward gears.

They are all incredibly impressive and would blow the minds of car engineers from 50 years ago. But what if something goes wrong? A used VW Golf with a dual-clutch gearbox might set you back 10 grand, but if its transmission gives up the ghost you are looking at over 75 percent of the car’s value to replace it.

Nowadays, every diesel engine has a turbo and now petrol motors are getting in on the act. Ford’s one-litre, three-cylinder Ecoboost motor packs a turbo, which as well as mighty fine efficiency figures, grants enough performance to make not just the old, naturally aspirated, 1.6-litre engine redundant, but the 1.8 as well. It is expected to sell by the bucket load, but how many of those thousands and thousands of buyers know what it’ll cost to fix a blower if it fails?

Technology in cars is good, infectious even; once a car maker breaks new ground, the rest soon follow. Yet at the same time, technology brings complications, expensive complications. And what really frightens me is that such complex kit is now found on new, everyday metal – the stuff I might want to buy used in three to four years time.

After say 40,000 miles, can I really trust a sexy, swift acting DCT to not eat itself, or a turbocharged (and thus more stressed) four-pot to not start guzzling oil or blowing steam through a gasket?

I feel we are on the brink of something big, driven by as much as anything, Western emissions legislation, which continues to put pressure on car manufacturers to produce ever more high tech vehicles to meet CO2 and NOx targets. Ultimately, the buyer will pay the biggest price when something immensely complex like a tri-turbo engine, start-stop system or eight-speed gearbox goes wrong. And they will because no car is 100 percent reliable.

We could become a throw-away society, moving from sophisticated new car to sophisticated new car after our three-year contract is up. And on the face of it, that would be good because we’d all be driving factory fresh vehicles built by companies with increasingly strong new car sales figures – endowing them with more capital to invest into R and D, to make even more brain scramblingly brilliant products...

The downside, though, would be a faltering and eventually imploding used car market; nobody is going to buy someone else’s potentially ruinous problem. A decade old, MK1 Ford Focus is relatively straightforward, mechanically, and thus hardly a frightening used buy today. But the current MK3 in 10 years time? The only way is up as far as bills are concerned, a theme that has already begun and I can only see getting worse as the years progress.

All Things AMG

Mercedes' impressive facility at the historic Brooklands site in Surrey.

Seeing an email drop into your inbox with ‘AMG Performance Media Day’ as its subject can do incredible things to one’s saliva glands.

As part of a new initiative to keep motoring journalists in touch with the huge range of cars it offers, Mercedes-Benz UK is putting on press days throughout the rest of the year, each with a main theme. The brain child of new PR top dog, Angus Fitton, the first theme he dreamed up was AMG. Naturally.

An efficiency theme and a trip to Mercedes’ new driving centre at Silverstone are in the pipeline, but what better way to capture test hacks’ imaginations that with an array of other worldly machines capable of not just blowing your socks off, but rearranging your face and redefining your idea of fast. Alton Towers on tap, if you will. On the day, the least powerful AMG there was the new SLK55 with a paltry 416bhp.

Taking place at Mercedes-Benz World in Surrey, its vast visitor car park played host to no less than 38 cars, most a muscle bound representation of AMG’s insatiable desire to create the most intoxicating cars possible under the guidance of Mercedes-Benz. There also happened to be a certain racing legend on hand giving passenger rides, going by the name of Bernd Schneider. You may also know him as Mr DTM. 

All the AMG trimmings on the 5.5-litre V8 powered SLK55.

With around 80 motoring journalists expected, the ratio of cars to people was a favourable 2:1, and having got there early enough, I was rewarded with the brand spanking new SLK55. It may have a small footprint but within that short wheelbase lies the power of over four C250s, and I don’t doubt it as I dare to stoke the motor with a firm prod of the throttle in the car park. Wearing a bib is highly recommended.

The latest R172 SLK has received mixed reviews from the press, its attempt to appeal to drivers sapping it of some rolling refinement that buyers of the old models loved it for. And yet despite this, it still won’t worry a Porsche Boxster or BMW Z4 through the twisties, making its existence somewhat confusing – what exactly is the SLK trying to be? That said, styling and build quality inside and out make the old cars look half finished.

The AMG version goes some way to rectifying the SLK’s confused identity with heavier steering (the standard rack on the normal SLK is surprisingly loose), tauter suspension and of course, a V8 complete with cylinder shut-off function to save juice. It's wonderfully tractable, the eight-pot motor, and capable of making the car’s arse squirm in second gear even with all the safety systems switched on.  

Yet there is no getting away from the fact the engine is pinned to an inherently underwhelming chassis. Attack a few bends and you’ll get a hint of understeer, a surprising amount of shake through the body and rack, and a general feeling of unrest. Ease back though, and everything makes much more sense. For instance, the steering’s otherwise disappointingly dead feel around centre makes progress using solely your fingertips a happy pursuit. As a point and shoot machine, the brutish SLK55 is simply unbeatable in its class, its soundtrack capable of producing an adrenaline hit all by itself.  

A great car in standard form, the latest AMG SL delivers and then some.

The all new SL63 AMG, however, is an utter revelation. Its ride is as soft as cheese yet body control is as tight as an Olympic gymnast’s. Powered by the same 5.5-litre V8 found in the SLK, but with two turbos that haven’t muffled the thumping soundtrack in any way, the grand roadster covers ground so quickly and with so much panache that it almost makes you wonder why you’d have the SLS AMG Roadster. 

Speaking of which, I happened to sample just such a car and if you can afford the droptop SLS, the SL63 simply doesn’t figure. The SLS is an absolute monster, but its cabin – circa 2009, don’t forget – is starting to look a bit old hat; the new SL’s is far, far sweeter and packs way more electronic wizadry.  

Useable but still so capable, the SLS AMG Roadster is simply thrilling.

Still, once you’ve found a road long enough, mashed the SLS’s floor hinged throttle pedal and heard the rippling, supersonic blare of its 6.2-litre lump partnered by the DCT’s gunshot like upshifts, you forget about the mediocre cabin. You forget about everything in fact, your brain entirely focused on computing your velocity and making sure your limbs don’t do anything ridiculous. At full chat, I wouldn’t blame a passenger for sticking their arms in the air and WOOO-ing just like they would on a roller coaster. I’d do the same but I’m too busy hanging onto the circular handle bar in front... 

More subtle in its approach and not entirely convincing despite my test car’s £149,000 price tag, is the CL63 AMG. Based on a plush, otherwise laid back coupe, it packs that stonking great V8 biturbo motor in its nose but the revamped air springing devoids the car of all the traits that made it so brilliant in the first place. Yes, the AMG V8 adds more character, but it’s otherwise raucous snorting is absorbed by layers and layers of bodywork and sound proofing material. I’d honestly rather have the far cheaper, more comfortable and hardly any slower 500 model. 

Both have four seats, but the CLS63 (left) makes more sense than the CL63.

Sharing the same engine, the CLS63 AMG comes close to feeling redundant given its base car’s pillow soft character, but its sharper E-Class underpinnings warrant a boost in power and fettling of the suspension. Endowed with the AMG Performance Package, it produces 549bhp and 590lb ft torque, seeing off 62mph in 4.2 seconds. Call up third gear using the sexy aly paddleshifter and it’ll fire from 50 to 100mph in an eye-widening six seconds, by my reckoning. Check out the video below and see for yourself (sorry about the shoddy quality).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0rl17X4NrQ&feature=youtu.be

Needless to say, each and every car offered performance as shocking as a slap across the face and gave an insight into the company that pieced it together. The AMG DNA is clear for all to see, hear and feel – I’m sure even passers-by get that faintly alarming vibration in their chest when an Affalterbach engine is opened up. 

Five-time DTM champion, Bernd Schneider turned up, too.

Mercedes’ previously rigid and somewhat staid image is rapidly evolving into something hugely more exciting and youthful, and the latest AMG models are among the driving factors of this reforming persona. Having Mr Schneider show us hacks what an SLS can really do on M-B World’s twisty handling circuit confirmed both companies aren’t just trying to dazzle with big wheels and flip-up spoilers, they’re adding real substance as well.

The Chase Is On

Nissan's 350Z packs a throaty great V6 sending power to the rear wheels – much love!

I love bikers. Most of them, anyway. Once in a while you’ll come across one or maybe even three who know what they are doing and make absolute mince meat out of a road. They’ll even hang out a leather clad knee through a corner, making your sweaty efforts behind the wheel of a car seem about as heroic as eating spaghetti with your bare hands.

Bikers, particularly the enthusiastic ones (those who sometimes like to relay shouted stories to each other at traffic lights) can add an epic amount of fun to a drive. It is one thing to go chasing apexes alone in a four wheeled machine on a deserted country road, but quite another to chase blokes straddling something Japanese along a road you’ve never driven before and they have.

And so it was with a recent and rather impulsive B-road blat, my cousin kindly handing me the keys to his glorious sounding Nissan 350Z, looking positively bulbous in metallic grey and subtly aftermarket on its optional Rays rims.

A quick supermarket run beforehand morphed into something more inspiring after deciding that, with the night before’s hangover quickly dispersed in a flurry of paracetamol and Diet Lilt, we fancied a road trip. With tank fat with fuel, the Zed was up for it and so the search for twisty asphalt began. To find it, we simply aimed at the countryside. What we discovered blew us away.

The route, which starts just outside Otley and spears north towards the A59.

Keep your patience navigating through the West Yorkshire town of Otley and soon you are presented with the national speed limit sign of Newall Carr Road, which heads north and links with Weston Moor Road. Drink in as much scenery as you dare, but don’t forget there are blind dips, off-camber corners and I-could-take-that-twice-as-fast-next-time sweepers to deal with.

Views get better still on Askwith Moor Road, your fast advance backed by breathtaking views of some of Yorkshire’s finest moorland. For most of the time along this dream piece of tarmac, visibility is panoramic, which invites you to keep that right foot planted just a little longer.

Views are stunning, those along Askwith Moor Road particularly so.

Several hair raising corners later, connected by straights that aren’t really straight at all, and you eventually come to the A59 near Carr Wood. Of course, I was looking forward to the return leg, that six miles or so not only whetting my appetite but also making me fall in love with driving all over again. And then it got really interesting.

Our about-turn landed us behind a 4x4 pick-up whose driver looked in no hurry. Umm-ing and ahh-ing about an overtake on a steep incline, I had precisely three seconds to register the glaring headlamps of two superbikes in my rear-view mirror before their riders hunkered down, flicked their wrists and whipped past. Challenge accepted!

The return six miles or so were a mesmerising blur. The Zed and I gave it everything to keep up with the two wheeled madmen. Firing along unfamiliar roads at speed focuses the mind  and is definitely not recommended, but things were made easier by the two bikers up front who were guiding me along.

Judging their entry speeds into corners was key to keeping in touch and I was managing to eat into the distance between us in the braking zones, but that gap would increase once more as they opened it up on exit, backed by that unmistakable superbike scream.

The bikers' knowledge of the road came in handy during parts like this.

I couldn’t tell you what speeds we hit and it doesn’t matter anyway. What I can tell you, though, is that during the last stretch of road the Zed called time, its brake pedal going long and making me thank the heavens for knowing how to use a gearbox to scrub off speed. That last left hander could have been quite messy!

Truth be told, I was glad our coupe had had enough. Its owner too, no doubt. By this stage I was a sweaty, grinning mess and had received that adrenaline hit I’d sub-consciously craved since slipping behind the Nissan’s helm. I’d even managed to keep the bikers honest, if only just.

Ticking and pinging as we walked away from it afterwards, the Zed had done its job and then some. It really does sound wonderful and is one of those cars that feels at its best when you’re working it hard. It hates being mollycoddled.

Anyone that loves driving will eagerly tell you about their most enthralling experience, and this was definitely one of mine. Not only had I found a stunning piece of road, I'd crossed paths with two great bikers as well.

A Journey of Discovery

Boxy brilliance; the Land Rover Discovery 3 blew me away.

Sometimes, just sometimes, cars surprise their driver so much with their natural talent that said enlightened person must go home and blog about it. So, here goes...

Contrary to earlier belief, the Land Rover Discovery ­and more specifically, the Land Rover Discovery 3, ­is a brilliant car.

I say this not because I've driven one through six feet of snow, weaved through crowds of brown bears hunting trout in rivers, nor pointed the Discovery's blocky nose skyward and pounded up a mountainside. But because I've steered one up the M40. The M25 and A5, too.

My steed was a base spec, 2.7 diesel with cloth seats, Costa coffees in the cup holders and claw like scratches on the black plastic trim in the boot. 
As you would expect given the Disco 3's two-box design, the interior follows a similar path with cube shaped air vent and door handle mounts, and prisms for door pockets, door trim and centre console. Protruding from the dashboard, the latter looks like Optimus Prime's chest post morph into a robot.

The six-speed manual has a lovely, chunky feel to its action.

Sprouting way up high from the floor and with a girth to make a pornstar proud, the lever linked to the six-speed manual 'box feels a little loose when not in gear, but the way it slots home is genuinely astounding. Not because it's particularly brilliant, but because you expect it to be so bad. It just isn't. Nor does the steering shuffle loosely around centre ­- yes it is a little light dead ahead, but weights up nicely on the move while turning. There is even a bit of feel, I kid you not.

Who'd have thought you could heel and toe in a Land Rover.

The fact the pedals are perfectly spaced for heel and toeing says it all; a designer or engineer, probably British, sat down and said, "Let's get the basics spot on and go from there". Whoever you are, I applaud you. Not only have you created a supposedly rugged 4x4 that looks half decent, is capable of climbing Everest ­- probably -­ and is mildly appealing inside, even in base spec, but you've actually managed to make it pleasurable to drive.

Large bumps made the front end of the Disco I drove buck slightly, signalling worn front shocks, yet it still cornered handily and pummelled road scuff without occupants feeling the violence going on beneath them. Of course it rolled, but then there is never a need to go baiting hot hatches in a Land Rover.

This marque now means so much more to me than before.

The Land Rover Discover 3 gave me one of those drives that made me curse the impressions others have handed out to me. Its brilliance lies in its undeniable refinement, more so since, unlike SUVs from Audi, BMW, Mercedes et al, the Disco is also genuinely capable of taking you to little inhabited corners of the Earth.