2016 Renault Zoe EV

Whilst my wife and I were at the Regent Street Motor Show in London last November, I also got to have a drive of a Renault Zoe EV. I was surprised that the queue for the test drives was not longer!

A rain soaked Berkeley Square on a Saturday is hardly adequate for putting a car through its paces on a proper test drive, but it certainly at least gave an opportunity for a brief evaluation. The fact that it was free certainly didn't go unnoticed either...

My uncle actually had a previous generation Zoe (a 2013 model), and so it was fascinating to have a go in the new version of his car. These little Renault Clio sized automobiles have just an electric motor for propulsion, no dirty fossil fuels are burned underneath its slickly styled bonnet. With an estimated range of 137 showing from what was probably a mostly full battery, I did not have the same sort of range anxiety I experienced when my uncle took me out for a spin in his in 2014 (he was lucky to get 80 out of his). I imagine if the weather was better, then this would be significantly improved.

The car was surprisingly normal to drive, although the rear space seemed limited, and the front seats had very high backs which made the interior quite claustrophic. Like most small cars, the ride was a bit crashy over poor surfaces, but it was perfectly acceptable. 0-30 mph (which was all that was legally allowed) was dealt with swiftly and efficiently.

I can see how, at around £15,000 depending on the model, Zoe would make a lot of sense to someone living in a city. It has four seats, has a good range, is easy to drive and is congestion charge exempt. Against it, longer journeys could be a bit of a problem, and the fact that one has to rent the batteries from Renault at a monthly fee is a bit of a bind. The resale value of used electric cars is also somewhat uncertain at present.

1992 Citroen BX 1.9 TZD Turbo

Continuing on from yesterday's entry, my mother used to use a garage in Southampton when her cars were serviced, which would often leave her with a loan vehicle. The one which she had most often was a 1992 Citroen BX TZD Turbo. The garage owner had had it for years, and it was well over 15 years old when I drove it.

My mother's BMW 3-series was in for a service, and I had to do something in town, so rather than using my own car, I asked the garage owner if I could borrow the BX. After all, I do occasionally use my mother's car anyway. It wasn't quite what I had expected.

The Citroen BX was launched in the early 1980s at a time when Citroen was still making really peculiar cars. Their line up consisted of the extremely outdated, but crazily loveable 2CV, the tiny little LNA, the interestingly styled (some would say ugly) Visa, the GSA (which had a speedometer like a set of bathroom scales and no conventional column stalks) and the CX, successor to the incredible technological powerhouse DS, but more modern-looking. Not much about any of these cars was conventional. All of them either had strange engines, weird suspension, bizarre steering, odd stylish or oversensitive brakes. Some had all of these at once. The BX was no different.

Carrying on the tradition started by the DS with fluid-filled suspension, the BX had no springs or shock absorbers, but instead had a series of gas filled spheres which formed part of the suspension system. This allowed the car to lower and raise its ride height on its own, which was always an impressive party trick, and theoretically made it possible to change a wheel without jacking up the car!

The bodywork contained many plastic panels, and the interior (especially on early models) was just as idiosyncratic as Citroen fans had come to expect. Available as a hatchback and an estate, with a choice of petrol or diesel engines, the BX was a popular car in Britain in the 1980s and 1990s, even if Citroen seemed to think that having just one windscreen wiper was sufficient for reasons best known to themselves...

By the early 1990s, the 'bathroom scales' speedometer had gone, there were normal indicator and wiper stalks, and the BX had acquired the famous XUD Turbo Diesel engines (available in 1.7 and 1.9 litre capacities). One of the best diesel engines ever, the XUD was rightly famous in the 1980s and 1980s for powering a whole host of Peugeot, Citroen, Suzuki and even Rover cars. Mileages of over 250,000 were common without major problems.

This particular BX TZD Turbo still had a very reliable engine, but the rest of the car was not so impressive. Like a lot of older diesel cars, it was necessary to wait for the glow plugs to warm up before starting the engine from cold (although this did give the car a chance to rise up from the 'parked' position on its hydropneumatic suspension into the normal driving mode). Despite having plenty of equipment, including electric windows and mirrors, I could not find the electric mirror control, and so had a few problems parking when I reached my destination.

The gearlever, unlike most cars, does not have the positions for the gears marked, but at least they are in a conventional 'H pattern'. Like a lot of Peugeot and Citroens I have driven, however, the gearlever was notchy, vague and loose feeling. I was expecting great things from the ride and handling, but was solely disappointed. The car crashed and thudded on surfaces where I expected it to just glide over bumps, and the handling didn't seem that impressive either.

For such an old car, the interior was not in bad order, but the plastics and door trims seemed flimsy and the seat wasn't as comfortable as I had expected. It is not fair to compare a BX to cars 25-30 years younger than it, but I had expected more somehow. The visibility, at least, was quite good, due to a large glass area, although ergonomically, like many of its time, I found the car a bit flawed. The stereo was right at the bottom of the dashboard, and hidden under a flap, and to this day, I still have no idea what happened to the mirror controls.

A common phrase in the classic car world is 'never drive your heroes', and although the BX was never an object of desire (really just more one of curiosity) for me, I can see why this may be true.

1999 Peugeot 306 1.8 Meridian

Some time around ten years ago, my mother used to get her cars serviced at a garage in Southampton who often supplied her with some interesting loan cars. One of these was a 1999 Peugeot 306.

The Peugeot 306 was the replacement for the Talbot designed 309, and was an larger evolution of the successful 205 range. Built in Britain, as well as in several other places, the 306 sold in large numbers throughout Europe, and went through at least two major facelifts between 1993 and 2002.

Styled by Pininfarina (like the 205), and very much having a family resemblance with the other cars in the range, engines ranged from 1.1 all the way up to 2.0 litres and there were a wide variety of power outputs. These days, most except the exceptional six-speed GTI-6 model are very cheap indeed.

The 1999 306 that my mother sometimes got as a loan car was a 1.8 litre petrol five door in, I believe, the Meridian trim level. As Meridian was the local ITV contractor in the Southern region, this seemed appropriate somehow, especially as their studios used to be in Southampton.

As far as I could see, the trim level included part leather seats (which my mother hated), some nasty fake wood, alloy wheels, electric windows and air conditioning. The dashboard was very, very dated for a late 1990s car, and the quality of materials was poor.

The main reason people bought Peugeots in the 1980s and 1990s, however, was not for the material quality, but for the way they drove. The faster models (the XSI and the GTI-6 in the case of the 306) were renowned for the same poise and chassis balance of the legendary 205 GTI, and the lesser models, especially when equipped with the amazing XUD diesel and turbo diesel engines, still had a certain style about them. (This was only true for the hatchback models, however, with the estate and saloon variants looking somewhat awkward by comparison.)

I was keen to try the 306 out, though, as I had heard a lot about them. This late 'Phase 3' car, with its colour-keyed bumpers and front foglights, certainly looked the best of the different eras of 306 models, and I slipped inside the faux leather driver's seat and took it for a drive.

The first thing I noticed was the terrible driving position, despite having seat height adjustment. Then, when I started the engine, I noticed the stiff and awkward clutch, paired with one of the most horrible manual gearboxes I have had the misfortune to use. The gearbox on the 24 year old Proton 1.3 MPI I used to own, made in 1993, but designed in 1983 (a full 10 years before the 306) is much, much better than this in every way.

I had driven cars with Peugeot Citroen gearboxes before, such as a 1.1 Citroen Saxo and a Rover 214 Si, and they were pretty bad, but nothing could have prepared me for this. The gearstick was almost flopping out of its gate, and each gearchange seemed uncertain. The car had quite high mileage, but even so, the vagueness of the clutch was alarming. The driving position did not help matters, and neither did the spongy brakes.

The handling, supposedly one of the 306's best aspects, did not seem particularly good. The steering was sloppy, and did not provide the feedback I was expecting.

The fact that the remote central locking was broken summed the car up really: a major disappointment. Unless you have the desire to pick up a GTI-6 models, which are sought after, and were well reviewed at the time, I cannot recommend buying a 306.

The Mazda 323F was a better drive, the Rover 400 more comfortable, the Audi A3 had far better quality, and the Honda Civic was far more reliable. Late 1990s cars are now very cheap, in general, but the 306 is not one that has stood the test of time well.

1980 Triumph Dolomite 1500 SE

Well, we have finally come to the most exciting car I have had the pleasure of owning in my name, which was a 1980 Triumph Dolomite SE. I bought it in 2005, and only had it for a couple of months, but those months left a deep impression on me.

Originally launched as the front wheel drive Triumph 1300 in 1965, what eventually became the Triumph Dolomite had something of an interesting history. In 1970, with Triumph having been absorbed into British Leyland (there is a name that speaks apprehension into the hearts of many petroheads) as one of their sporting marques, plans were afoot to 'update' the car for the new decade. Besides the obvious work to elongate the car a little by changing the front and back, which was a bit of a facelift, something extraordinary happened: the car was switched from front wheel drive back to rear wheel drive, which seems like an extraordinarily retrograde step now.

In 1972, the newly modified Triumph Dolomite emerged (at that time without the specific 1850 HL moniker that it would later adopt), with rear wheel drive, a plush interior and a 1.85 litre engine co-developed with Saab of all people... Despite the styling, which dated back seven years at the time, the car was quite successful, and was legitimately seen as a rival to the BMW 2002, the ancestor of today's 3-series.

In 1973, things got even more exciting. The Triumph 1500, the bigger engined front-wheel drive replacement for the 1300 was re-engineered to be rear-wheel drive (as the Dolomite was) and was now known as the 1500 TC, although this was not the real news of the year. The really big development was the Triumph Dolomite Sprint.

This had an all new 2 litre 16 valve engine, based on the 1.85 litre motor in the standard Dolomite, alloy wheels, around 127 bhp and it could do 0-60 mph in around 8.7 seconds. For the early 1970s, alloy wheels and a 16 valve engine were cutting edge technology, and the acceleration was very rapid indeed. The car looked amazing, and in the first series of 'The Professionals' (1977-78) Lewis Collins' character Bodie drove a white Dolomite Sprint. This was a perfect match of character and car.

My parents actually had a very similar car in the 1970s, as the 1300 had not just been replaced by the slightly larger 1500, but also the cheaper Toledo, which kept the 1300's shorter body. This was a Dolomite with the 1300 engine, but no luxuries at all, and rear wheel drive. My parents' Toledo, despite being a couple of years old, suffered from terrible reliability problems, and did not remain in the family long...

With such massive confusion among the range and terrible product planning, in 1976, all models were renamed as Dolomites, all with rear wheel drive, and all with the longer bodyshell. This meant engines from 1.3 all the way up to 2.0 litres and big variations in specification, but less complication.

A special 'run out' model came in around 1979, which was the Dolomite SE. All 1850 HL and Sprint models had standard quad round headlights, where the lesser models had twin rectangular headlamps. Being based on the 1500 HL, the SE had the twin lights, but many owners upgraded them to Sprint specification of quad headlamps and alloy wheels (not the standard steel ones). All cars were black with a grey velour interior and wooden door caps.

Mine had been upgraded in this way

, and had also been fitted with a wood rimmed steering wheel, whereas the originals had a black plastic rimmed one. The deep pile carpet, AM radio and beautiful styling were wonderful. The reliability was not.

When she arrived on a trailer from Scotland (yes, really), the brakes did not work properly, neither did the headlights and the choke lever would not stay out. I did manage to replace the battery on my own, and the problem with the brake hose was easily fixed by the nice man from the RAC, but as she took ages to warm up when she started, ran a bit rich and generally consumed money faster than a holiday in Singapore, she had to go. The final straw was finding the dodgy handling was due to incorrectly fitted ball joints.

I sold her to a chap on Ebay for £900, who drove her back to Derby, where amazingly she did not break down. I was very sad when she left, but being 23 and still living at home, I knew I had to wait until later in life to have my proper classic car fun.

1996 Vauxhall Vectra 1.8 LS

To start the working week, I have the (dis)pleasure of reviewing what must be one of the most hated cars of the last 25 years, the Vauxhall Vectra.

After its launch in 1995, it was famously reviewed by Jeremy Clarkson in early 1996 on Top Gear, and he spent six minutes desperately trying to find things to say and failing miserably. Even if you don't like cars, this is a very entertaining piece of television:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJ756HncddI

With the most exciting thing about it in the video being the door mirrors (which genuinely are rather nicely designed), and the little plastic tool inside the fuel filler cap to prevent people getting dusty fingers when removing the tyre valves, the Vectra got such a bad press from Clarkson that Vauxhall wouldn't lend him any more press cars for a time. The Vectra, in Britain at least, had such a terrible image problem following this report that General Motors (at the time Vauxhall's parent company) changed the name in 2008 of its large family car to the Insignia, and has not looked back since.

Launched to follow the celebrated MkIII Cavalier (which had been called the Opel Vectra in Europe), many drivers who had been happy with their Cavaliers up until 1995 started to desert Vauxhall in droves. As Clarkson points out, the Vectra and many rivals of the same era were looked the same, cost abut the same and they appealed to the same type of company car drivers. Only small differences (such as a biro holder, place to store sunglasses or the aforementioned tool for removing the tyre dust caps) set them apart. It was like buying a washing machine, not a car.

I had the pleasure of using one of these original Vectras back in 2008 when it was given to me by a local garage as a loan car. It was not the most pleasant experience. The car seemed far too large considering what it should be, and had a very uncomfortable driving position. Most of the pixels on the combined display above the dashboard no longer worked, and the mirrors (although they looked nice), were not very effective.

The 1.8 litre petrol engine was nothing more than average, which pretty much summed up the whole car. The ride and handling also suffered from the same sort of blandness and overall lack of character. I suppose it was spacious and probably better built than most, but that was about it.

The rear view was also poor, the interior was dark and depressing and there was no sense of character whatsoever. Unless the discerning sub £500 buyer gets hold of a V6 model, which were a bit more exciting, I don't think I can recommend this at all, but I don't think that is much of a surprise!

2014 Toyota Aygo 1.0

Today we continue to look at another hire car, in this case a 2014 Toyota Aygo, which I rented in September 2015. This example was just over a year old, and had done about 12,000 miles when I was handed the keys.

The Toyota Aygo was the first vehicle in a collaboration between Citroen, Peugeot and Toyota, which resulted initially in the C1, 107 and Aygo, and then the Citroen Dispatch, Peugeot Expert and Toyota Proace vans. (The Citroen was named the Jumpy in other countries, which was unsurprisingly changed for the British market.) Both the van and the small city car triplets have since been replaced with a new generation, but the collaboration continues...

The Aygo/107/C1 (there are only minor differences between them) was launched in 2005, and stayed in production in its initial generation until 2014. The most prolific engine used was a brand new 1.0 unit developed by Toyota and producing an incredible 67 bhp, supplemented by a 1.4 diesel supplied by Peugeot Citroen. The cars were facelifted in 2010 and 2012, so the 2014 example I drove was a very late one indeed. The Aygo (which I will refer to on its own for the rest of this post, as it is too tedious to type out the other model names as well, but 99% of what I write is applicable to them too) is a textbook example of how to make a car on a budget.

Inside, the rear windows do not roll down, but just pop out. There are only two electric window switches, one on the driver's door and one on the passenger door (the driver does not get two as on most cars). The tiny little tailgate has just one little strut supporting its weight, and only the upper specification cars were supplied with a rev counter, which tacks onto the instrument cluster like an afterthought. There is just one massive windscreen wiper, like something from a 1980s Citroen, which does add a bit of character, it must be said!

The 1.0 three cylinder engine is far from refined, although in such a light car, the performance is perfectly acceptable in the city. Out of town, however, the engine is low on torque and needs to be worked hard to make any decent progress. The handling is also hardly sporty, which is not helped by skinny tyres, only average steering feedback and a driving position which is difficult to adjust to one's every whim. I also found the gearbox rather difficult and far from smooth, which is not what I would expect from a Toyota at all.

The equipment, as one would expect, is also pretty basic. There was no sat nav or Bluetooth, but most versions do at least seem to get air conditioning and an auxiliary input for the stereo. The digital clock on the dashboard, again, looks like something from a 1980s Citroen...

The boot space is absolutely tiny at just 150 litres (smaller than that on a Fiat 500), but at least folding the seats down is easy. Rear space is also quite limited, and with the front seats being of one piece without removable head restraints, it can feel claustrophic in the back, particularly as the rear windows do not roll down.

The Aygo's raison d'etre, however, is not luxury or driving pleasure, but low running costs. This is where it scores very well. The insurance is low, the fuel economy is excellent, and the Franco-Japanese trio (built in the Czech Republic in case anyone is curious) scores well in reliability surveys, probably because there is not much to go wrong. For only £2,000 or so for an early example in reasonable condition, many would say that there is little wrong with one of these cars.

The first problem is that since the launch of the Aygo, 107 and C1, the city car class has massively moved on. Cars like the Seat Mii (another silly name), Skoda Citigo and Volkswagen Up! trio, which still show signs of cost cutting, but are light years ahead on build quality, refinement, safety, styling and space. The newer models of the Franco-Japanese trio, despite being launched three years after them, still aren't as good.

The second problem is the growth in budget superminis which have been launched in the last five years, which are the same price or even undercut the Aygo, with equivalent specification. They often even have similar running costs, and again offer more space and a more mature feel for less money. Typical examples of this are the MG 3 and the Dacia Sandero, and whilst neither is the last word in technical sophistication, I would take either over the Franco-Japanese trio (even the new models) any day of the week.

For a couple of days as a hire car, the first generation Aygo was fine, but for any longer period of time, I would recommend looking elsewhere, unless low running costs are the top priority.

2011 Chevrolet Cruze 1.6 LT

This is the 2011 Chevrolet Cruze 1.6 LT I bought in 2012 to replace my 2004 Rover 45. It had done just 5000 miles when I got it, and was an 11 month old demonstrator. It had lost over a third of its value in the first year, and so was a classic case of wonderful car: terrible depreciation.

In black, it looked super, and was well specified with air conditioning, an AUX input for the stereo, cruise control, six airbags, ESP with EBD, ABS brakes, parking sensors and all kinds of other refinements. I missed the direct steering feel, the comfortable seats, the wood on the interior and adjustable lumbar support from the Rover 45 (and also the size, as the Cruze is a much bigger car), as it has electric power steering and no adjustable lumbar support, but in every other way it was better.

For some reason, General Motors, who own Chevrolet, took it up on themselves to remove the spare wheel, and so it only came with a tyre inflation kit. A space saver (not full size) spare wheel was £300, which I thought was ridiculous, and apparently it robs boot space too.

Apart from that, and slightly disappointing fuel economy (one of the reasons I eventually swapped her for a diesel version of the same car), she was better than the Rover in virtually every respect. The cruise control made her better on motorways, there was more rear legroom, a better stereo, a bigger boot and vastly superior switchgear and build quality.

Most of all, especially as she was so new, the reliability was vastly improved. I had virtually no problems with her at all, apart from the driveshaft oil seals failing (which is a common fault with all Cruzes, apparently, as my 2014 Turbo Diesel had the same problem) and it had a recall to have the brake hoses replaced. Apart from that (and some self inflicted damage I undertook in a car park in Hatfield in 2014), I would have kept her, but a friend of mine needed a car like mine, and so I sold her to him in 2015 eventually with just 37,000 miles on the clock.

I had paid around £9,000 for her originally, but I sold for for just over £4,000, which was a heinous loss. He also sold her for not much money when he got a company car, which is why these cars are absolute bargains these days!

The fuel economy and performance are merely average, and the steering is over-assisted, but for comfortable, well-equipped family transport that is reasonably stylish, a Chevy Cruze is pretty hard to beat... I hope to own another some day!

1998 Volkswagen Polo 1.4 CL

Let us take things right back to the start of my automotive history. This is a Volkswagen Polo 1.4 CL from the late 1990s (this is a 1999, and mine was a 1998), which was my first car.

My mother, my sister and I bought her from the local Volkswagen dealer in St. Cross, a very affluent area of Winchester, in May 2001. I had her before I passed my test, and took lessons from my mother in her. She even appeared in the school magazine, I think!

My sister and I passed our tests in quick succession in the autumn of 2001, and for four and half years afterwards, the Polo remained a faithful, yet uninspiring, companion. The build quality was a strange mixture of Volkswagen typical solidity and cheapness. For example, the Clarion stereo had a barely fitting face off front, which was very difficult to manipulate, the central locking kept sticking, the electric mirror motors sounded horrible, and the electric window switches were in the centre console so that they did not have to be modified from left to right hand drive, and felt really cheap and nasty. However, there was always a good amount of weight to the doors, the seats were very supportive and there was a general solidity to the way that the car drove.

With just 60 bhp, the Polo is not fast, but she was more difficult to stall than my driving school car (a Citroen Saxo), which is probably down to having much more torque, so she was easier to drive in traffic. The pedal box, however, was quite small, so it wasn't always comfortable for everyone. I think she got reasonable economy, but it was a long time ago now!

The handling was safe and predictable, which is excellent for younger drivers and the rear window was entirely vertical, so she was quite easy to park. In the end, despite giving my mother, my sister and I good service for four and half years, she just became a little dull for me, so she, along with another car, was sold to make way for a 2003 Seat Leon, which was more suitable for my needs. I sold her to an antique dealer for his wife, and by the time this happened, the central locking was very sticky and the radio barely worked, but he seemed pretty happy nevertheless. He knew Volkswagens, and he said it felt like a miniature version of his Passat. I couldn't have agreed more.

2003 Seat Leon 1.4 S

One of the cars with the longest personal history I have (which is around seven or eight years) is a 2003 Seat Leon 1.4 S. After I bought it in 2006 with 33,000 miles on the clock, I kept it until 2009, and then sold it to a friend. He kept it three years, and then it was finally sold onto another friend in 2012, and I think it lasted (with well over 100,000 miles on the clock) for another two or three years.

The Mark I Seat Leon was based on the Mark IV Volkswagen Golf, which had the same platform as all these other cars:

-Skoda Octavia Mark 1
-Audi A3 Mark 1
-Seat Toledo Mark 2
-Volkswagen Bora
-Audi TT (yes, really)

It is not surprising, therefore, that there were certain common elements between all of them. My bottom of the range Leon 1.4 S had an engine from the Golf, the dashboard from the Audi A3 and air conditioning controls from the Octavia. It didn't quite handle like an Audi TT, though...

Rather like the car it replaced, a Volkswagen 1.4 Polo, there was a strange mixture of surprisingly poor materials in some places, but general Volkswagen group quality in others. I had numerous problems trying to get the rear wash wipe to co-operate, the lighting for the air conditioning control panel kept being intermittent, and the door pull was extremely cheap and nasty.

Later on in its life, the car acquired various 'battle scars', such as a missing bonnet badge (which was knocked out by a terrified badger), dents in both wings and scratches on the back (it was a little hard to park), and a CD got stuck in the stereo, but overall it did keep on going for quite a long time. The 75 bhp engine was a bit underpowered (bit of a theme going on here), so the car wasn't fast, but she did get around 40 mpg on average, and the fuel range was around 450-500 miles on a tank.

The handling was better than on the Golf, and the interior was tactile and smart (despite one or two poor quality bits of trim). It also looked more stylish than the slightly dumpy Mark VI Golf, especially with the tailgate release button doubling as the Seat badge. I believe that she has now been scrapped, but she certainly gave all three of us good service over a number of years, and you can pick up a decent Mark I Leon now for under £1,000.

2004 Rover 45 1.4 Club SE

Back with one of my favourite subjects today, which concerns the 2004 Rover 45 Club SE I had from 2009 to 2012. Sporting the same 1.4 litre K-series engine (designed in Britain, of course) as the Rover 214 I had immediately before this, she developed around 103 bhp.

The car was never exactly fast, but it had an urgency about the way in which the 16 Valve Twin Cam K-series. This engine was used in MG Rover cars right up until the bankrupcy of the company in April 2005, and a modified 1.8 litre version was used in the MG 6 model from the revived MG Motor UK from 2011 to 2014. As for the Rover 45, it had a complicated history and gestation period.

In 1992, Honda and the Rover Group (as they were at the time) were in a partnership which had been going on for over 10 years and had largely been quite successful. The joint venture Honda Concerto and Rover 200/400 (known as the R8) models had been well received, and the replacement for these would again be co-developed by both companies. However, before Rover had any say in what would happen, Honda launched their 1992 Domani saloon in Japan, and decreed that their joint venture product would have to be based upon it.

The dumpy little Civic-related saloon (which has exactly the same doors as the Rover 45) was quite inelegant, and proved a headache for the British designers. When the new Rover 400 hatchback appeared at the end of 1995, the press were singularly unimpressed with its drab styling and high prices (it was the same size as an Astra, but priced to compete with the Vectra), which was not a good start.

The saloon was better received, but when compared with the British built Honda Civic five door from their Swindon plant, the Rover looked embarrassingly expensive, despite the typical lashings of wood and chrome. Eventually, Rover reduced their prices, but damage had been done. BMW, new owners of Rover from early 1995, didn't much know what to do with all their Honda derived models, and so eventually reduced prices and lightly facelifted them, which did not do much to stem the tide of falling sales.

In March 2000, BMW sold Rover to a management buyout bid known as the Phoenix Consortium, having just facelifted the 400, which became known as the 45. It had some positive changes, and was priced directly against the Astra, where it always should have been. Some elements from the recently launched 75 were also incorporated into the new design, such as new seats and some nice new instrument dials.

By 2004, the Phoenix Consortium (aka MG Rover) had both MG and Rover models on sale, and had managed to somehow not go under, but when they wheeled out mildly facelifted versions of the Rover 25, 45 and 75 as well as the MG ZR, ZS and ZT (essentially three different cars with one sporty version each), the press and public were underwhelmed. It was all over less than a year later.

The 45 by this stage was still a decent car, but it suffered from a terrible image and was by now a very old design. My 2004 Mk2 version had the following equipment:

-Wood inserts
-Climate control
-Parking sensors
-Steering wheel mounted controls
-Traffic Master congestion early warning system (yes, really)
-Alloy wheels

This was not bad for a family car of its age, and the facelift smartened up the design considerably. Part of this was to revise the suspension settings more along the lines of the MG ZS, which meant that the handling was not bad at all. The car was comfortable, with a big boot, reasonable fuel economy, strangely handsome styling and a pretty stylish interior (also revised in 2004) with white dials and a bespoke dashboard. Sadly, it was not all positive.

I lost count of the maintenance bills I had to spend, but by the time I bought in 2009, it had already had a head gasket replacement, and needed even more work. I loved driving it, and the ambience, but it did break down several times and eventually the head gasket went again (along with the exhaust), and so she was put out to pasture for just £350 in 2012. For an eight year old car, which cost around £18,000 new, that was pretty poor depreciation.