Fantasy Cars

I'm sure we all dream about our fantasy car from time to time. You know the one: the out of reach sublime motor we hope someday to own. Whilst you might be more than happy with your current classic I'm actually talking about the elusive, exotic and wondrous mechanical creation you'd buy and cherish if you had the unlimited funds required to obtain and maintain such a machine.  Of course, the super-rich, like Jay Leno for example, have been able to make such fantasies come true but even they must desire cars so rare, so few in number, they elude their influence and economic muscle.

For me there are plenty of cars I'd really like to have. Those with good memories will recall some of my previous blogs where I've eluded to them. I've referenced the quirky Hillman Husky, a well-sorted Mini Cooper or a cranky Citroen SM with its six-pot Maserati engine. Unmentioned thus far is a Jensen Interceptor, a Mark 10 Jag and perhaps most exotic of all a Pontiac Aztek; just for shits and giggles I should say and not for making crystal meth. Naturally, this could be a very long list but then I thought: what about cars we've all seen but which we can never really own because, well, they don't truly exist?  I'm talking about the fantasy cars of the movies and popular fiction. Cars that in the minds of their creators have been uniquely modified to help the story, aid the hero or simply to add some mechanical dimension to the entertainment. Here's a few examples so you get the idea:

Doc Brown's Delorian DMC 12

Great Scott! Much has been written about the Delorean DMC 12 not all of it nice. Aficionados know it was envisaged as a high-end sports car designed to offer a truly innovative contender in this market sector. It was planned, on paper, to use new lightweight materials, innovative production techniques and have a radical chassis design to support its mid-slung Wankel engine. Sadly all of these intentions were whittled back one by one by lack of cash, inadequate technology, politics, and bad luck. The eventual stainless steel bodied car with rear mounted PSV engine was compromised in almost every way when it launched in 1981 during one of the deepest recessions in recent memory. Predictably things didn't go well and only 9000 were sold. Pretty soon the car was being consigned to bad car history. It was only when it was transformed into a time machine in Back To The Future that it became a fantasy motor. We all know that at  88 mph it was able to travel through time using Doc Brown's flux capacitor. And like the fabled Phoenix, the DMC 12 has in the intervening years gained a legendary status that transcends its difficult birth. I'd certainly have one if only to travel back far enough in time to place a decent bet on The National so as to avoid the bloody donkeys I always seem to favour.

Delorean DMC 12 on display at JLR Heritage Centre Warwickshire

The Bat Mobile

There have been a number of bat mobiles over the years with each new iteration more outrageous than the last. However, I thought I'd concentrate on the classic sixties version used by Adam West in his tenure as the caped crusader. You all know the one. It was indeed a very unique car probably the most exotic on this list. It was based on a 1955 concept car known as the Lincoln Futura which was never officially launched. Of course, it had a plethora of useful bat tools including a rocket motor, parachute, smoke screen and best of all a 'bat-tering' ram. Apparently the original fifties engine was prone to overheat quite badly and it had a more modern motor fitted to make it useable for filming. Two fibreglass replicas were built but the original metal #1 car is a total one-off and therefore totally irreplaceable. Good luck in adding one of those to your collection Jay.

Fantomas' Citroen DS19

Predictably, as you know, I always look for a way to lever a Citroen DS into my missives but trust me this one's a doozy. Fantomas is an obscure French super villain whose adventures were dramatised in a series of books first published in 1911. This miscreant is a murderer, thief, blackmailer and master of disguise who has, as with most psychopaths, an unquenchable desire to rule or destroy the world. His adventures were made into a series of films in the mid-sixties and his arsenal of madness included a flying Citroen DS19. Yes that's right a flying Citroen which makes quite a change from it being merely broken down. Have a look at this YouTube link and see what you think http://youtu.be/roxqTOAor0I. If you happen to have one of these by the way I'd like to buy it!

James Bond's Aston Martin DB5

I don't think I need say too much more about this iconic car. It's beautiful, deadly and utterly legendary in the pantheon of fantasy cars. Of course, I'd like to own one of these stately British lovelies. Who wouldn't? But having the option of flipping up the top of the gear lever and pressing the little red button, especially when the wife is complaining about my driving, well, I'm not sure I could resist.

Lovely DB5 on display at Gawsworth Classic Car Show May 2015

Michael Knight's Pontiac Trans Am

This car might not be that outrageous looked at through modern eyes. I've already written about my disquiet about the current move towards self-driving cars and K.I.T.T. was an early fictional rendering of this idea. The original highly modified Trans Am was an ultra-high-tech, self-aware automotive companion to crime fighter Michael Knight (David Hasselhoff). The list of capabilities the car offered was probably only limited by the imagination of the writers as they cooked up evermore scenarios in which a car could be made useful in solving crimes. The duller, less entertaining, alternative I suppose would it being parked up outside and participating in the odd car chase looking for a pile of cardboard boxes to drive through. To be fair, the series ran for quite some time and yielded several subsequent TV movies so it was an idea which obviously had some mileage.

Harry Potter's Ford Anglia 105E

Oh I love the Ford Anglia. My granddad got one when he retired in 1975 and used the excuse of taking me for a drive in it to get some respite from my grandma. With its cute little fins and raked rear window it was a great little car. Add it to my list of desired cars please. This one's unique on this list as its the only one to use supernatural powers to do its party pieces; those of flying and invisibility. Apparently J K Rowling had happy memories of trips in an Anglia during her youth so when Harry Potter needed a means other than a broomstick to cover long distances the little Ford was pressed into service. In this regard the Anglia is more akin to Dr Who's Tardis than the more weaponised motors listed above. Still want one though; flying or not.

One of my fantasy cars pictured at Gawsworth Car Show 2015

So there you have it.  There's more I could have added of course: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, any number of Bond cars, Lady Penelope's Roller or even Mad Max's Ford Falcon. The truth of the matter is they're all just figments of various creative peoples' imaginations and none of them really exist which, when you think about it, is a great pity. 

Unsafe At Any Speed

Who amongst us as bona-fide car enthusiasts wouldn’t like to be like Jay Leno the former American chat show host?  I’m sure all will be familiar not only with the man himself but also his awe-inducing collection of cars that he keeps in a purpose-built facility in Los Angeles.  

If you’re not aware then go and visit his website ‘Jay’s Garage’ and see for yourself the massive range of unique, rare, bizarre and desirable motors he has at his disposal.  What a lucky man.  Whether you’d want to own them all – with the massive maintenance charges involved - is debatable but I’m sure if you had free reign there’s one or two you’d happily drive off in! 

Regular readers will have noted I occasionally reference cars I’d put in ‘Anthony’s Garage’ and most are fairly mundane compared to some of the exotic American confections Leno has access to.  To be honest, I’m not a massive fan of Yankee Classics finding many to be rather gauche and, in some cases, egregious and vulgar.  So the chances are that I’d turn my nose up at a lot of Jay’s collection. 

However, at Gawsworth a couple of year’s ago I saw an American car which actually took my fancy; the Chevrolet Corvair Corsa, a car I’d never encountered before.  The sky blue version on display was not only very pretty but was highly unusual as it was one of the few rear engined, air cooled cars produced by the American car giants. Part of its appeal for me was it’s not so long that you couldn’t feasibly park it in Costco and you might actually be able to afford the ‘gas’ required to run it.  

It reminded me a little of an Hillman Imp (which is a car I’d put in my collection) but one that had been sent to pimp-up heaven and returned as an insane, stretched out, fired-up shadow of its former self. What’s more it was for sale.  And, just for a moment, my head suddenly filled with financial calculations that if I hadn’t pulled myself together might have had me negotiating with the owner. Luckily, good sense prevailed and we moved on after suitably complementing the vendor on his car. 

Later, when I had a moment, I fired up t’internet and had a shufty around to find out more about this automotive vision that had grabbed my attention (and very nearly my money).  Interestingly, it was a car that had been referenced by the designers of the Imp as they were mapping out their rear engine effort which I thought was a bit spooky. More startling though was that the Corvair is one of the most controversial American Cars ever made. At this point I understood why my interest had been piqued. I think I have an instinct that causes me to gravitate towards cars that just don’t conform. Whether it’s their design, innovation, their problematic nature or simply that they’re death traps. I seem to like them.  Hmmm must ponder on that a bit more but for now let’s return to the Corvair. 

The very early model Corvairs (1960 – 63) were heavily criticised in a book called: Unsafe At Any Speed by Ralph Nader (1965). The primary issue being the rear swing-axle suspension which, it was claimed, had the potential to ‘tuck under’ in extreme conditions making the car inherently dangerous at the driving limits. Combined with the highly unequal pressures recommended for the front and rear tires (intended to balance out the handling) this created, Nader claimed, an accident waiting to happen. The alleged root cause was the insidiously prevalent trade-off between cost to build and safety that was used by US car manufacturers in an age when NCAP safety ratings and ‘moose tests’ were not such an issue.  Nader's attack did materially affect the car’s reputation and sales to the point that the suspension was redesigned in later models so perhaps in this case he did the American car buyer a favour.  

As the controversy rolled on, tests carried out in the seventies by learned engineers on the suspect 1960 – 63  models, pronounced the Corvair was no more prone to safety issues than competitor cars such as the VW Beetle or Renault Dauphine. In the end this research did little to convince industry big wigs (including John Delorean) who agreed that Nader was largely right and declared the Corvair to be an ‘unsafe’ and ‘terrible’ car.

Nader went onto highlight many issues with contemporary American cars such as the danger that elaborate internal and external ornamentation posed to drivers and pedestrians. His arguments were often very prescient and included now familiar issues such as the positive effects that mandatory seat belt wearing would have on accident survival and how cars contribute to pollution levels. All seem pretty reasonable one would think but only when looked at with a modern day perspective.  At the time the book was heavily attacked by the industry, many of its claims were strongly refuted and Nader became the subject of harassment, blackmail and personal attacks for which senior car industry figures were later forced to apologise.  

As ever, in these cases, there’s no clear cut outcome. Unsafe At Any Speed divided opinion and has in the intervening years been described as one of the most harmful books of the twentieth century. Harmful to whom is the key question one thinks…

What is true is that a Chevrolet Corvair made it to the car show I attended safely enough and Jay Leno has a 1966 model in his garage so I can only leave it to posterity to decide the ultimate fate of this conflicted car. Whether I’ll contribute financially to that debate is, I think, now open to question.

                                                                     Copyright Anthony Boe 2015.  All Rights Reserved

Trabi-tastic!

The last time I visited Berlin was in early 1990. The Wall had only just been breached by hordes of hacked off East Germans but much of this oppressive structure was still there. But by that stage it was no longer a political barrier and thousands of East-siders, free from years of soviet-backed tyranny, were flooding into the consumerist west to gorge themselves on the many desirable western goods they'd long been denied. But there was still a restricted flow eastwards across this disintegrating divide and I didn't get to visit the DDR on that occasion. I could only peer at it, all grey and lifeless, through the arches of the Brandenburg Tor and wonder what is was like in there.  

Checkpoint Charlie, the heavily guarded interchange in the former American zone, was still an imposing military installation but in late 1989 it had witnessed the highly symbolic drive through of many Trabants as they burst, stinking and noisy, into a world where these cars were viewed as one of many travesties that could only be produced by a centrally-planned, socialist economy.

Happily we visited Berlin again recently and this time stayed in and toured the east. How things have changed. We visited the DDR museum and discovered that those living on the socialist side of the wall seem to have been trapped in a sort of time warp reminiscent of seventies Britain. They wore garish nylon clothes, suffered from intermittent hot water and heating in their gloomy, overcrowded flats as they watched joyless television on the three available channels. There was a constant air of paranoia as their society was being surveilled by anonymous Stasi officers ever-ready to imprison or interrogate recalcitrant citizens for failing to comply with the socialist orthodoxy. 

For those who fell victim it was probably a bit like the sinking feeling we got in seventies UK when the power was cut just as Doctor Who was starting. And worst of all, they drove one of history's most terrible and miserable cars. Even crappier than the rubbish motors the UK motor industry produced in the days of Glam Rock.  

Admittedly, we in the UK had a choice of dodgy cars whereas those in the DDR really only had one choice: the Trabant, and they had to wait up to sixteen years before they could get one. Talk about adding insult to injury.     

An anything but 'green' Trabbi

When you research these cars you can only wince at how crushingly bad they were. The body was made of Duraplast which like was a cross between Bakelite and fibre glass. This stuff was absolutely indestructible and insidiously poisonous making it impossible to recycle cleanly. They had a tiny 600cc two-stroke engine requiring uneconomical levels of pre-mixed petrol and oil. At 29 bhp they could manage only 62 mph whilst delivering an unimpressive 40 mpg. 

The engines were noisy and lumpy and pumped out a voluminous white-blue smoke with the oily smell you'd associate with a classic British motorcycle. The column shift was vague; the lever giving only an approximation of which gear you were in at any point in your journey. The unpowered steering was surprisingly light and responsive but the stupid placement of the pedals, offset awkwardly to the right, made the driving position supremely uncomfortable. Imagine the clutch being where you'd expect the gas pedal to be and you get the idea. The brakes were similar to the ones from a classic Mini; adequate but strangely wooden. The interiors were drab and plasticky with little aesthetic thinking involved. Nonetheless, they were quite roomy and had a usable, large boot making them reasonably practical in a godforsaken kind of way.

You might be wondering how I know all this. Well, I'm pleased to say we decided to do a 'Trabi Safari' courtesy of Trabi World during our visit to Berlin. This is where you drive one of a convoy of Trabants with other game drivers whilst the lead car traces the route and offers tourist info' over a Tannoy radio. We chose a factory-spec' Amazon green car but could have had a car repainted in polka dots, rainbow stripes or even leopard spots. There were also estate and cabriolet versions available. 

Our standard version ran, as you might expect, like an absolute dog. We feared it would stall at any time in the heavy downtown traffic but, to be fair, it kept going, the engine popping and lurching alarmingly as we took on the busiest roads and intersections of the German capital. On the tour we cruised by the many highlights Berlin has to offer leaving a noxious, funky haze in our wake. 

Occasionally we were separated from the main herd when we missed the lights or allowed pedestrians to cross, but those in front duly pulled over and waited until we caught up and off we went again driving ever-deeper into the road-madness of one of the busiest capital cities in Europe. Once you got the hang of the gears and bizarre pedals you could actually enjoy the driving experience and make good use of the low-end pep on offer (which rapidly disappears as soon as you try to engage fourth gear). I'm pretty sure our experience of the weird gear changes on the 2CV and DS helped us in our transition to piloting a Trabi. 

What was amply demonstrated was that as indifferent cars go the Trabant makes the top ten list every day of the week. They define: awful, horrible, dirty, badly-made, crappy and perfectly symbolise why collective economic planning simply couldn't produce decent quality goods. Without the profit motive there was simply no incentive to do so. However, on the modern byways of unified Berlin, we were greeted with waves and smiles as tourists enjoyed seeing what today is a rare car on German roads.

Having said all that I think to own a Trabi - even ironically - would be be quite fun. Unique even. It'd be great just to pop to the shops in occasionally. Timing is everything of course. In 1989 when the Easterners swarmed to the west they immediately jettisoned their Trabis for better capitalist cars. Many Trabis were given away for free. Even today, as they have dwindled in number, you can still get a runner for less than €2000 the indestructible body as perfect as when it left the factory (just don't ask about everything else!). 

If you visit Berlin definitely give the Trabi Safari a go. It might not endear you to the car itself but if it does nothing else it might make you appreciate your own classic more, (even when it decides to play up). And remember, at least you have a choice of what you can drive which was more than the poor East-Berliners had!

                                                                     Copyright Anthony Boe 2015.  All Rights Reserved

The End Of The Road

In my last couple of blogs I've been musing about both the past and the future. I've pondered on how accidents of history have shaped some aspects of our classic car world, about unsung commercial vehicles and how modernity is inexorably eating away at our collective passion where even the very act of driving may become as antediluvian as an eight track car stereo.  I must be at that pivotal stage of my life where I have approximately equal amounts of both past and future which may be disquieting me a little. Symptomatic of this is that nostalgia is no longer as comforting or entertaining as it used to be. The memories are getting just a little too far away now.

But I try not to let dark thoughts distract me (most of the time). To do such a thing would be futile but it can't be denied that someday hopefully in the distant future we won't be here anymore. And soon after that we'll probably be taking our very last 'car' ride in a unique type of vehicle known as a hearse. 

Now here's a question for you. What type of vehicle is this? Is it a commercial vehicle? A long estate car? Public transport? A taxi for the existentially challenged? Or is it something in its own right? Probably the latter. What I do know is that when you join the end of a queue of slowly moving traffic you soon stop raging and swearing under your breath when you find it’s a funeral cortège as opposed to a milk float, a learner driver or simply somebody who thinks doing 25mph is their civic duty. Respect in these cases is still, and always should be, due.

No one would disagree that these cars should, by their nature, be stately, discrete and in some way classic after all they are one of the final tributes to a person whose lifetime voyage has ended. We all deserve to have our final journey in a vehicle of quality, distinction and taste. Classic hearses craving our admiration are coach-built Daimlers, Jaguars, Mercedes, top-end Rovers or even Rolls Royces. And yes, if you're asking, Citroen did a very nice DS version as well. All were top of the range cars carefully adapted for their solemn purpose with dignified veneered woods, fussy chrome 'thingies' on the roof, glossy black coachwork and discrete landau bars. Proper classy. But have you seen a modern hearse recently? What absolute mingers many now are! A good number I see are based on bog standard Fords and even Japanese marques. 

Worse still, they have an unpleasant hydrocephalic look about them, all top-heavy and distended with far, far too much glass. Like some kind of grim mobile greenhouse. Reliable they may be but I'd have to confirm if you said I'd be on my way to the grave in one of these indifferent horrors I'd reply: 'over my dead body'.

As with many things in life there's potentially a commercial angle here for the budding entrepreneurs amongst you. I would suspect, like wedding and prom cars, there's a good business to be made from saving older hearses, restoring them to muster and hiring them to those who want to go out in real style and not in an ugly, unnecessarily-practical, modern version. The enterprising and mechanically talented of you might see the possibilities.

But hey, if you're reading this and feeling a little blue, don't be depressed you're not dead yet, so smile and enjoy your life. Perhaps in this spirit reflect on the idea that instead of being considered something of the shadows we should acknowledge that hearses do as important a job as any other vehicle and always in difficult circumstances. What's more, many older versions are interesting, well-built conveyances as much deserving of our admiration as any other classic you can think of. It's a pity we don't see more of them on the showing circuit. I'd certainly stop to admire one.

Classic Mercedes hearse being used by an antique business - Berlin March 2015

Interestingly, I've already done several journeys in a classic hearse and not, as you might think, because I was an undertaker or the like. No! You see, in my fast-departing youth I was a 'Goth'. I wore lots of black clothes, had long straggly hair and was pale as a vampire (and proud of it). I listened to noisy, dark bands that rarely graced Top of the Pops. 

As a sub-culture, Goths liked the stygian imagery of Transylvanian castles, misty graveyards and thunder-clapped skies. One of the Goth's most desired accessories, should they have been able to afford it, would have been a classic hearse to cruise around in. And I had a mate who actually bought one; a regal five-litre Daimler. Worse for wear but roadworthy. We had a day out in it once or twice: two ghostly young men laughing and barging around in a massive funerary vehicle visiting not a chapel or a funeral home but parks, supermarkets and pubs. 

The looks we got ranged from amused, bemused, confused to the outright horrified. But you know, in spite of what we were driving, what we had a great time - enjoying our lives - and so should you...

                                                                        Copyright Anthony Boe 2015.  All Rights Reserved

Star Cars

There are some cars that are destined to blend into the background unsung and never appreciated as anything but a day-to-day conveyance. Then there are some that rise through the ranks to fame and recognition. Often these are the cars we desire, admire eulogise about but sometimes for one reason only; they have had fame thrust upon them by television producers and film directors. How many of you have cars that have played a significant part in major films or TV shows? Quite a few I'd wager. I wonder, given availability and some imaginative effort if we muster a significant display based on this theme. Just for fun like!  If I were to list my favourites they’d be:

Aston Martin DB5 

It goes without saying this is the classic James Bond car first seen in Goldfinger where its range of deadly after-market additions supplied by Q Branch, including the infamous ejector seat, saved 007’s hide on more than a few occasions. Actually, thinking about it, if you could put a Lotus Esprit and a 1930 Blower Bentley (Ian Fleming’s vision of Bond’s car) on the same spot we'd have a grand display before we’ve even got going.

Ford Mustang/Dodge Charger

No prizes for guessing the Ford is the car that Steve McQueen bounced around the steep, swooping streets of San Francisco in Bullitt in one of the most famous movie car chases in celluloid history but for my money the more powerful Dodge is the one I’d prefer to own.  Clad in black and unfeasibly long, the Charger was the perfect villain’s choice both for its throaty V8 menace and its thuggish looks. It’s notable also for the skill the stunt drivers showed in coaxing such an adrenaline-pumping, hub-cap-popping performance out of what is a veritable whale of a car.

Volkswagen Beetle

Ah the ubiquitous Bug. Perhaps not the most exciting car in the list but when presented in white with a circled 53 decal on the doors it becomes Herbie the anthropomorphic Beetle from the eponymous film series. As a kid I loved watching these films usually on a wet Holiday Monday.  I always thought I’d like one of these but went in another direction in the end.  However, if I had unlimited funds there would be one in my garage. Do you think Hitler would have approved when he developed these as the German people’s car?

Hillman Imp

We’re off piste a bit here. But the plucky Scottish-built Imp with its boxy shape, alloy engine and dodgy rubber doughnut driveshaft was the automotive star of the largely forgotten TV series Man in a Suitcase. Not sure if the suitcase referred to the car or the man’s luggage and I only vaguely remember seeing this as it played in the afternoons on ITV back in the days when there were only three UK TV channels (and most shut down for a siesta in the afternoon). I nearly bought one of these for my first car but was talked out of it by my Dad. Still have a soft spot for them though especially the estate version: the Hillman Husky.

Citroen DS

Here I go again: bangin’ on about me motor. What will I reference you wonder?  Day of the Jackal, Scarface or, worse, some obscure French film no one’s heard of?  Actually the ‘D’ got a really good showing in the recent film version of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier Spy ferrying the perspicacious George Smiley around as he searched for the mole in MI6.  Arguably it was the perfect conveyance for Smiley to use as he pondered the clues, cushioned from the outside world by the spongy suspension and generally enjoying the excellent rear leg room. I have one to display if needs be!

BMW 5 Series

Fairly bog standard you might think but in terms of making our display, quite easy to source I would have thought.  However, it is the star of one of the other great film car chases from The Transporter with Jason Statham. Filmed in the south of France whoever drove that car was a genius and helped to create a truly great bit of celluloid car madness.

The Austin Mini Cooper

Michael Caine: ‘You’re only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!’ Nuff said…

Peugeot 403 Grand Luxe Convertible

I had to include this.  The rare, but battered, car of my favourite TV detective Columbo. You usually see it back-firing into shot about a third of the way through an episode when the murder has been committed and the dishevelled cop turns up in it to start his relentless badgering of the criminal. This is the only detective show where it’s actually an advantage to know who’s done the dirty deed so you can watch as Lt Columbo grinds out his case against them. If you're an owner of these remarkable vehicles I'm envious; I'd love to own one. Oh and just one more thing….

Reliant Regal Super Van iii (preferably in yellow)

Often incorrectly described as a Reliant Robin, and much maligned on Top Gear, this is the Trotter family’s grimy workhorse from the much-loved UK sitcom Only Fools and Horses. I’ve always been fascinated by these fibreglass three-wheeled oddities and they do look surprisingly practical for the small business person. I would love to have a drive of one of them just for the hell of it.  Not sure why…

So that’s it. An eclectic list I’m sure you’ll agree. What would you include?  Morse’s Mk 2 Jag?  Simon Templar’s P1800 Volvo? Bodie & Doyle’s Ford Capri?  Each to their own I suppose so perhaps you could write out your list and we can start an ongoing theme...

                                                                        Copyright Anthony Boe 2015.  All Rights Reserved

The Future is Here (and it's terrifying)...

As a classic car owner naturally a lot of my my automotive interest lies with the cars of the past. Indeed if you’re an owner too you'll understand. But it stands to reason when your classic was initially launched it should have at least looked like something from (or for) the future because, like all new cars, whenever they're launched, they were designed to compel you to replace your outmoded current car. 

But it's hard to imagine isn't it? Seeing your classic from that perspective: as a thing of the future. And that got me thinking. You see, long ago, when I was a young lad in the seventies, I used to daydream about what life would be like in the year 2000. I looked forward to what I thought would be a completely different world, my youthful imagination fuelled by images from visionary TV like Star Trek, Space 1999 and Captain Scarlett. 

I pictured some kind of utopia in which everything would be shiny and white. For some reason I thought when the clock sounded midnight at the very end of 1999, the world would suddenly become excitingly space-age. We'd immediately be dressed in the the same lurid colours worn by Captain Kirk et al, all food would come in pill form, robots would fulfil our every whim and aerodynamic cars would hover soundlessly their serene drivers effortlessly manoeuvring them with a button encrusted joystick. 

And what happened when the dawn broke on the new millennium? Absolutely nothing. Well nothing that exciting. When the odometer of time rolled over to 2000 stubbornly the world looked exactly the same. Even the apocalyptic promise of millennium bug-related chaos turned out to be a spectacular damp squib.

Of course, things have changed. I mean, how did we cope without smart phones, broadband, tablet computers and sat navs? And it can't be denied that cars have become much more complex (and safer). Even today's most modest motors have more computing power than it took to land a man on the moon. 

Happily, on the whole, these things have made our lives easier and arguably richer. But think on this. All this technology is also slowly eating away at us. How many of us have lost the ability to reliably spell thanks to MS Word? Can you still read a map or do you let your Tom Tom do all the work? How would you find out anything new without the use of Wikipedia?

But now I'm worried as driving seems to be the next skill that will be gradually consumed. You may have noticed the recent announcement that the UK will be a prime testing ground for driverless robot cars.  Headlines inform us these vehicles will be on the roads by 2017 and the Highway Code is being modified to facilitate their arrival. 

Yes that's right; autonomous robot cars bristling with cameras, radar, satellite technology and servos will soon be out there. Driving around. Driverless. Hugely complex cars in which you sit like a muppet; an inert passenger letting the vehicle do what the hell it likes. Are we mad? I get concerned about what my smart phone is doing as it updates itself without so much as a by your leave. This thing is sending information about me to God knows who as it tracks my movements, web searches, telephone calls and texts all as I wander around oblivious to what the sly informant in my pocket is up to. That's a small phone you'll note, not a tonne of computerised car. So it'll be a landmark day when I sit in one of these automotive automatons, punch in my destination and then do, well, nothing. Except fret.

Old Ford or thing of the future?

This is not a new idea as you probably know. The Motor Research Centre in the UK did some experiments in the sixties on this very same theme. Interestingly (for me at least) they used a Citroen DS19 for these trials due to the ready supply of high-pressure hydraulics to power the extra doo-dads fitted to enable it to self-drive. I've seen the very car they used and it's a Heath Robinsonesque affair at best. It ultimately didn't amount to much as it relied on magnetic rails that needed to be sunk into the road. But now, with modern technology, it's all become terrifying real.

There's lots to concern us here. What happens if these cars crash? I don't think the magistrate will be sympathetic to your excuse of not having witnessed the incident because you were asleep on the back seat after too many post-work shandies. 

How will a ruthlessly logical computer cope with the utterly illogical driving of a late-night taxi driver, the bewildered elderly, a baseball-capped youth in a souped-up Citroen Saxo or an Eastern European lorry driver?  Will it blithely drive you off an unfinished bridge because the inadequate 'bridge closed' sign had blown over? The possibilities are endless and none are good. Be afraid, very afraid.

However, for me, the most knicker-filling prospect of this new technology is not if, but when, these cars become self-aware. All the fictional dystopias of Mad Max or the Terminator could become the actual, and very real, stuff of nightmares. 

As we drive - hands-free - into this cataclysmic future Asimov's three laws of robotics will be summarily disregarded, especially the one about not harming a human. And you can be sure it won't be a nude Arnold Schwarzenegger turning up in a flaming ball of plasma that initiates your doom. No! It'll be when your suddenly-sentient car locks all its doors, pumps exhaust gasses into the cabin and then goes on a unfettered killing spree as your ossified remains rattle around in the foot wells.

So, as you admire the cars from the past, spare a thought for the future. One day soon, as you cruise around in your classic or everyday car (enjoying the actual experience of driving), you might find yourself facing up to one of these futuristic monsters as it murderously bears down on you. Imagine looking into the petrified eyes of the hapless 'driver' as he screams his last words and Armageddon ensues. It's likely none of us will come off best. Welcome to the future! 

So on that prophetic note I'll sign off this rambling with the promise that: 'I'll be back'.  

Memories of Mini

Can there be a more quintessential expression of ‘Britishness’ than the humble Mini?

Despite the fact that the modern variant of the marque is firmly in the hands of BMW the original remains, at its heart, the very essence of our fair isles.  Perfect in design, small but plucky, innovative yet in some ways flawed, discrete and flashy at the same time.  

Conceived in response to rising oil prices after the Suez crisis it was, with the memories of World War Two still fresh, an example of where the British come into their own: solving problems in the face of adversity.  I wonder, when it's designer Alex Issigonis put pen to paper in the late fifties, he envisaged the world of today where a gallon of petrol is over six pounds and would he have bothered at all.  

But bother he did and his deceptively roomy, transverse-engined, masterpiece was born. Soon the Mini became one of the true British icons of the sixties; owned and loved equally by maharajahs, groovy celebrities and the humble man on the street. Just over a decade after its 1959 launch the marvellous Mini entered my life.

                        

I have mainly happy memories of our family’s first Mini. It was a basic British Leyland 850cc model in dark blue delivered as new in 1972.  It had been supplied to my disabled Mum by the UK government to help her, as a single parent, to be mobile having two small kids to lug around and all.  Before arrival it had been adapted to enable it to be driven with just the hands and what a challenge that proved to be. As a manual car it needed some pragmatic and ingenious additions. 

The observant would see it had two quarter moon controls just underneath the steering wheel. The bottom lever operated the clutch (assisted by a huge servo retro-fitted in the engine compartment), the top regulated the gas and it required much subtlety and skill with the practised fingers of the right hand to balance them to avoid stalling when setting off. This proved to be particularly tricky on hill starts.  To the left of the driver, next to the gear stick, was a hand operated brake; an austere lever topped with a white knob connected directly to the brake pedal by a primitive linkage. On top of all this, things like gear changes, handbrake operation and steering were obviously also required. I don’t know how she managed to drive it. I’m fairly sure, looking back, she doesn’t either.

Once the driving test had been passed, it heralded the start of convenient travel but also some pretty hair-raising journeys.  I could mention a few:  Like the time it took us over 10 hours to get to Butlins in Skegness as navigation was just one process too many above all the other tasks the adapted Mini demanded of Mother.  

Or the time in torrential rain on the motorway when we were suddenly surrounded by lorries and the spray they created overwhelmed the puny wipers. Panicking, she nearly lost the plot and I had to calmly talk her out of just stopping dead in the central lane and letting fate take its course.  I’m lucky to be alive thinking about it.

That first Mini lasted about six years. Towards the end of its life it had fallen foul of the classic Mini maladies.  Rust was eating away at the inner wings with damp foot wells and spongy sills being the inevitable outcome. It especially didn’t like starting on cold mornings necessitating comedic push-starts begged from passing strangers aided by two exasperated kids.  Finally, when the heavily ridden clutch went, so did the car.  

Soon after it was replaced with teal blue Mini: same set up as the first and eventually the same issues. By then we’d learned a clever trick of jump-starting it in reverse gear which was much more effective – most of the time.

What I particularly remember was the huge load carrying capacity they had.  Fully packed they could take four or five compact people plus other stuff such as drums, guitars and amplifiers. Indeed, it was used as our alternative to a Ford Transit to transport me and my fellow band members to rehearsal rooms and gigs when we were budding rock stars. I doubt we’d get away with such excesses these days but, again, it’s testament to Mr Issigonis’ clever design that there was plenty of Tardis-like space with many nooks and crannies to cram full. Amazing really for such an outwardly compact creation.

Three more Minis followed. My Mum got a red automatic which made the hand controls simpler and it was mainly trouble-free in the time we had it. By this time I was a driver, having learned my basic driving chops in our Mini, and was enjoying the experience for myself. By the end of our Mini ownership I’d driven the automatic, my sister’s turd-brown example and finally my very own oxidised red Mini 1000. 

Thinking back I loved the dodgem-like road holding and handling. The ability to turn a full ninety degrees from a standing stop. The wooden feel to the brakes (that did tend to fade a bit when under heavy load) but, most of all, the way you could barge around; nipping in and out of traffic with gazelle-like ease and park just about anywhere you wanted.  Today, if I had unlimited funds, I’d have one like a shot.  

So, even though they may not be the safest of cars, the most long lived or particularly well-equipped I can assure you if you’ve never had the experience of a Mini in your life (however briefly) it’s possible you may not have lived at all.  

                                                             Copyright Anthony Boe 2015.  All Rights Reserved