Hands up who likes a wanker? Me neither.
So it is that I find myself walking away from a meeting with a 'car journalist' of some repute (ill repute I say) with a mixture of relief and frustration.
Relief that I will never be an honourless, ignorant, wanker like this guy, but frustration that his corpulent arse is in a chair I aspire to occupy.
Such is the bind of those who have a passion for the art of car scribbling.
There will always be wankers in any profession, some industries - like marketing/sales - more than others, but I expected the great leveler, a love of cars, to bring us all to a common understanding.
A point at which love of internal combustion would prevail over all, automotive altruism guiding our actions and dealings like some egalitarian hand from above.
I've never been religious but my bibles have always had cars on the cover.
This Fatwanker clearly wasn't on the same page as I. Then again, he is the kind of guy who wouldn't get out of the bath to take a shit unless there was a financial incentive. Fuck him.
However crestfallen I was after meeting feculence in the shape of a man, I reminded myself of why I am here and what it is I love by having a quick look through the Classic Throttle Shop in Sydney.
Saturday, 22 May 2010
Sunday, 6 December 2009
Current car designs are crap
Current car designs are crap. Soulless, generic, bland as vanilla ice-cream. And computers are to blame.
Where is the next great design that will make men gasp and women damp in the downstairs?
Where is the uplifting inspiration that was present in ID/DS Citroen design?
The daring and unconventional lines of the many designs by Virgil Exner in the finified 50’s? The phallic resonance of the E-type?
Basically, where have all the good designs and designers gone? Are they in a cave? With Osama? Has he eaten them? By his thin visage he looks to be subsisting on only the thin gruel in the current the Toyota/Hyundai/GM design trough.
If I was stuck in the cave with Osama, I’d eat his stinky sandal before even thinking to look at next generation Camry designs. Yuck.
Seriously, why can’t any designer use God’s gift of an opposable digit, pick up a pencil and draw something exciting? Are computer mouses to blame? Is the grammatical black-hole who decided that the plural for a computer mouse should be ‘mouses’ to blame? Close but no. I blame CAD, or Computer Aided Design programs.
Like most software, a CAD program can be used for good, but also evil.
I am 100% sure that on every ‘file’ dropdown of every CAD program on every computer in every mainstream car company around the world, there is an option labelled ‘Default Design’.
Pressing this button causes the latest homogenous design blob from Toyfordai to shoot on to the screen like amateur porn.
Such is the reliance on CAD that all designers who use it have more knowledge of mathematics than of artful design. Aesthetics on paper transferred to metal is a thing of the past.
Now, I’m sure in designing a car there are safety and economic controls (loved by those tight-fisted wankers in accounting), but when has a truly great designer ever followed the rules?
I now extend this challenge to any designer who thinks they have the fortitude and talent to be truly worth of me remembering their name. All you have to do is sack up, stab an accountant in the eye with a pencil and then draw the next truly great car design. Easy.
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
Ford Focus Wagon - Road Test 2008
Forget the Aston, what ‘007’ needs is a Ford Focus 1.6L Wagon.
If you are a spy and want to get about unnoticed (yes, spying is about NOT being seen Mr Bond!) then the Ford Focus Wagon is for you. This car is stealthy. This car is so stealthy that when I came back to it at the local shops, I walked straight past it. Twice.
At first all I could see was an empty space, but as I squinted toward the place where a car should be, a form suddenly materialised in front of my eyes. The unremarkable styling of the new model Focus and the dark colour of the test car do more to mask the Ford from view than all the technology that cloaks the stealth bomber.
The Russians would have won the Cold War if they had this kind of technology.
The looks of the new Focus are sharper than the previous model, more angular and definitely fresher than the original but less cohesive, less...focused.
The first Focus looked so great that it didn't change very much over its model life (almost 10 years!). Unfortunately for the new Focus its looks are eminently forgettable.
What the new car lacks in looks it makes up for in interior space.
It’s amazing to see the change in vehicle sizes over the last ten years.
All the small cars (Focus, Civic et al.) have become medium sized and the mid-size cars have become bigger than the super-sized contestants on the 'Loser' show. Hell, the Mondeo I recently drove felt as big as an early EA Falcon.
But this increase in size is a good thing because it means you have a smallish car, with minimal overhangs that is easy to drive, has good visibility and is easy to park.
It can also fit an arse-load of essentials when you go camping, shopping or when making a mad border-dash with the back full of Bollinger and Eastern bloc women with funny names who will try to rub you out as you drift off in a post-coital haze. However with a bigger car you need more power to pull it and if the stealth of the Focus ever failed, and Bond was found out, the two mice under the bonnet would have their work cut out for them in a high-speed pursuit.
The lackluster 1.6 litre engine is as slow as Paris Hilton and not suited to an automatic transmission so it is no surprise that the Focus has piss-weak performance.
It would be a much better proposition with the Duratorq turbo-diesel and manual transmission.
This combo would be a little more expensive but it’s not only more powerful, it would use less fuel.
Fuel consumption in the Focus is a bit thirsty for its size with a combined test showing 8.4 L/100km. This could however stem from the fact that you need to drive it hard to get up to traffic speeds, which is where the diesel would again be the better option.
The Focus is a very good car for those who need to address practical issues liks like carting kids, shopping and pets around.
It has a huge amount of space in the back to put things and the glove box is roomier than a supermodel’s lunchbox.The interior is very nice for the price with comfortable seats, good ergonomics and controls that are easy to use and understand.
Despite feeling a little upright and flat, I really liked the seats in the Focus as they were comfortable and easy to get in and out of (am I getting old?). The Focus is extremely practical and with the right engine could be a good choice for carrying a lot of stuff quite cheaply. You know that it wouldn't get stolen (stealth factor), but then again you might lose it.
Although Bond would be as likely to drive a Focus as quit drinking, marry Moneypenny and take up philately, it would be the perfect car for him to pick Pussy Galore up in without the missus knowing- Oh James indeed!!
Friday, 6 February 2009
Automatic Porsche 911. Travesty or just stupidity
Trawling through the cars section of ebay recently, I came across a 996 911 Carrera at a Brisbane dealer for only $56,000.
This is seriously cheap for a 996. It did get me to thinking that it was now a ten year-old car (not necessarily a bad thing but noteworthy) and that when old 930s and even 911Ts from the 70's are still pulling 35 grand+ that this was a bit of a bargain.
Kilometres were on the high side (140 thou) but tolerable for the outlay.
While opening my wallet, hoping to see a winning lotto ticket to flutter out, I scrolled further down the page and froze in horror. The transmission was listed as 'automatic'. What kind of wanker would buy and auto 911?
A Carrera Cabriolet I could forgive for having a porridge-stirrer (no doubt driven by hairdressers) in place of a man's shifter, but a 'nine-elev' with a slushbox? Like Grandad said. "The world is going to hell in an auto 911". Damn straight Grandpa.
This is seriously cheap for a 996. It did get me to thinking that it was now a ten year-old car (not necessarily a bad thing but noteworthy) and that when old 930s and even 911Ts from the 70's are still pulling 35 grand+ that this was a bit of a bargain.
Kilometres were on the high side (140 thou) but tolerable for the outlay.
While opening my wallet, hoping to see a winning lotto ticket to flutter out, I scrolled further down the page and froze in horror. The transmission was listed as 'automatic'. What kind of wanker would buy and auto 911?
A Carrera Cabriolet I could forgive for having a porridge-stirrer (no doubt driven by hairdressers) in place of a man's shifter, but a 'nine-elev' with a slushbox? Like Grandad said. "The world is going to hell in an auto 911". Damn straight Grandpa.
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
Hot Zot. Honda Z360 Hardtop Microcar
I've never been especially concerned about fashion and styles in cars, music or anything. I'm the typical "I dunno art, but I know what I like" kind of guy. When I said I liked Dire Straits in year 4, the class as one made an "eeeeeeeewwwwwwww" noise and scrunched their faces as if they'd just licked a lemon-flavoured arsehole. When I said I liked KISS, they all laughed. Even my teacher. But I didn't care, I knew that I was right and they were missing out.
Anyway fast forward a few years to a small farm shed on the outskirts of the country town I grew up in. I am standing, looking at this incredibly small purple Honda. I knew I had seen them before (a guy in high school had one) but I had never realised how cool they were. Now, here's where you say "ewww", ready? I was totally in awe of the pretty little Honda Z360 Hardtop. Derisive verbalisation over, let me explain.
These were the predecessor to the first series Civic which came in 1974-5.
Old matey Soichiro Honda wanted to use the motorbike knowledge that his company had to make some small cars with air-cooled engines for the masses.
In 1971 the world was introduced to the gorgeous (eeewwww) Z360 Hardtop with its tiny 360cc engine pumping out an Earth-shattering 23kW. The air-cooled car continued until 1973 when the water-cooled engines were introduced only to cease production late in 1974 which was when the Civic came to life.
There was also a Z600 which was a Z360 with a
bigger, you guessed it, 600cc engine. Other Hondas that shared the engines around the same time were the Scamp, Life, and the boxtastic Step van.
I still haven't found one for myself yet, as I have to do something with the cars I already have, but when I get one I know it'll be a ripper!!!
Plans include a large capacity bike engine, cage and flairs like the blue one below which was for sale on my105 recently.
Here are some awesome examples, and if you are into the old Nippon classics check out Japanese Nostalgic Car, as well as the crazy carbon Z600.
No doubt the Darth Vadar carbon-fibre Z600 looks the business, but for me the blue Zot/Z360 below converted for road use is the epitome of a hot pre-Kei Japanese classic.
Anyway fast forward a few years to a small farm shed on the outskirts of the country town I grew up in. I am standing, looking at this incredibly small purple Honda. I knew I had seen them before (a guy in high school had one) but I had never realised how cool they were. Now, here's where you say "ewww", ready? I was totally in awe of the pretty little Honda Z360 Hardtop. Derisive verbalisation over, let me explain.
These were the predecessor to the first series Civic which came in 1974-5.
Old matey Soichiro Honda wanted to use the motorbike knowledge that his company had to make some small cars with air-cooled engines for the masses.
In 1971 the world was introduced to the gorgeous (eeewwww) Z360 Hardtop with its tiny 360cc engine pumping out an Earth-shattering 23kW. The air-cooled car continued until 1973 when the water-cooled engines were introduced only to cease production late in 1974 which was when the Civic came to life.
There was also a Z600 which was a Z360 with a
bigger, you guessed it, 600cc engine. Other Hondas that shared the engines around the same time were the Scamp, Life, and the boxtastic Step van.I still haven't found one for myself yet, as I have to do something with the cars I already have, but when I get one I know it'll be a ripper!!!
Plans include a large capacity bike engine, cage and flairs like the blue one below which was for sale on my105 recently.
Here are some awesome examples, and if you are into the old Nippon classics check out Japanese Nostalgic Car, as well as the crazy carbon Z600.
No doubt the Darth Vadar carbon-fibre Z600 looks the business, but for me the blue Zot/Z360 below converted for road use is the epitome of a hot pre-Kei Japanese classic.
Awsome Z360 with mid-mounted 1300cc Suzuki GTI engine
Friday, 8 February 2008
TVR Tuscan drive 2002
TVR Tuscan - First super car drive - Korea 2002
Mr. Choi's question threw me. Would I like to drive the TVR Tuscan around for the day? Me? Drive the Tuscan? The blue Tuscan? The 120 thousand-dollar Tuscan? The 0-100km in 4.5 second Tuscan that would spit an inexperienced driver into the scenery given the chance?
Any comparative, no matter how witty, would have been adequate to convey how much I wanted to. I nodded, afraid my voice would betray my nervousness. Mr Choi threw me the keys and I walked, with great trepidation, toward the beautiful TVR.
There were just a couple of things that worried me as I ambled across the courtyard. One was the fact that I'd never driven a supercar before. Loved them at a distance proportionate to the folding in my wallet (a long way, trust me!!) but never been able to even sit in one.
The closest I came was at an Aston Martin dealership where I was about insert my arse into a DB7 Zagato when a salesman leapt out of the shadows to tell me that "that one is sold".
Another worry was the beer that Mr. Choi threw me from the esky 20 minutes earlier. If Mr. Choi isn’t worried about the beer, neither am I.
The 360 horsepower lurking under the Tuscan's beautifully sculptured shark-like nose however, still made me feel uneasy.
Looking over the Tuscan 30 minutes earlier was shocking. After seeing it in pictures for months before hand, the size of the car is what I can't now get over. It's so small I that don't think I will fit into it. So low, but so incredibly lithe and focused looking, like a bull-mastiff. All muscle, no fat. Not an inch wasted. A purposefully slippery shape that, thanks to it's easy to form glassfibre panels, looks organic, not manufactured.
From the Swiss cheese front grill, up the twin valley bonnet to the raked back windscreen, across the open T-top to the ovoid rear end, it just flows. The Tuscan looks like a form arrived at by millennia of natural elements working on a piece of rock to create a smooth, flowing shape. Walking around it soaking up the details, like the two bonnets (one to easily access and check fluids; the other, which needs to be unbolted, to view the engine) and the three front lights is fascinating. The spidery seven spoke 18inch wheels with the ultra low profile Pirelli 225/35ZR18 front and 255/35ZR18 rear tyres look sporting, yet elegant and set off the car perfectly.
As I arrive at the driver’s door, Mr. Choi is sitting in the passenger seat waiting for me to stop gawking and start driving. I urge him to be patient as I want to enjoy looking at it before I touch it.
I grab for the door handle. There isn't one. The door is perfectly smooth and devoid of any ornamentation, save the side rear view mirror which, after much laughing, Mr. Choi tells me is where the 'opening button' is.
I press the little rubber nipple and the solenoid thunks the door open. Nice. Ingress is easy, even for 190+cm tall people.
Once seated in the strangely shaped but incredibly comfortable and supportive seats, the view ahead is a true work of art. There are no dull plastics, no harsh surfaces. The interior is an extension of the smooth, sculpted outside. Everything is covered in leather and there are no tacky plastic switches or levers, just beautifully machined brass knobs and buttons.
Everything in the cockpit is incredibly tactile. There is a large crescent shape speedometer, also made of brass, reading to 200mph (This car is a grey import from the U.K) with a digital screen below which can display any number of functions including RPM and fluid temperatures.The steering wheel and the gearshift are my first points of contact, and the billet aluminium of the shift along with the fat suede wrapped non-airbag wheel gives me confidence that they'll transmit my inputs accurately. Nothing for it then except to start it up...
Prelude: I first met Mr. Choi in the flashy suburb of Kangnam in South Korea when I walked into his car showroom after seeing his display of 'car porn' from across the street.
I was an English teacher there for five years, so with Korea being desperately short of decent cars I was always on the lookout for eye candy to subdue my auto lust.
I waltzed in to Mr Choi's showroom and started a conversation in my shoddy Korean about the beautiful cars in the store. They had a handsome, and at the time new, dark blue Ferrari 550 and a red 355 Spyder that I took a particular fancy to along with a Porsche 911 C4 and a C6 Corvette. I then met the boss, Mr. Choi, who in typically generous Korean style listened to my grammatically incorrect questions and then replied in his own broken English, which then became our common language.
I told Mr. Choi about how stunning I thought the red 355 was. He agreed and went on to say that his Japanese business partner would be shipping over 25 cars to Korea for a car show at the Samsung Everland Amusement and motor sport park as a cross promotional gig next month. Would I like a ride in something special? Maybe as a passenger in the Ferrari 355 that I coveted? "That would be awesome" I say.
I then receive a call on a Wednesday night by an inebriated Mr. Choi asking me to come out to a pub with him and his friends. I politely decline. Mr. Choi then went on to say something in Korean about see you tomorrow at to drive the car at the show. I ask him to repeat what he said.
Dates and times were only vaguely alluded to in our first conversation (I half expected never to hear from Mr Choi again) so I call in sick the next day and jump on a bus heading south to Yongin.
I didn't expect to be piloting one of the most no nonsense, balls-out sports cars ever made. I had read a lot about the Tuscan and its zero tolerance for amateurs when driving hard. It is a small car with a big reputation. So with a contented looking Choi in the passengers seat (how many beers he’d had before I arrived, I don’t know) I turn the key and wait. The starter motor engages but the engine doesn’t fire. Mr. Choi tells me you have to pump the pedal like it’s an old-school carburettor-fed engine. I push the long travel floor hinged pedal and turn the key again. A second later the engine roars into life sounding more like a large capacity V8 than a 4 litre 6 cylinder.
I settle my nerves and slot first in the precise gearbox, push the go pedal and slowly let off the clutch. We are underway.
The route that we are taking is around the pine and spruce lined hills and valleys where the Samsung Amusement and Motorsports parks lay.
I've been here before, slowly ascending the hills in a school bus with 50 screaming Korean children. Not a nice way to experience such pretty countryside. The only screaming going on at the moment however, is that brutal straight-six rocketing a worried looking Mr. Choi and (an absolutely elated) me up through another tight hairpin and onto the ensuing straight.
Mr Choi's friend is in the lead car, an Audi TT keeping the pace.
Up and moving the car sounds and feels incredible. The in house designed and manufactured engine is an incredible accomplishment given the scale and resources of the tiny TVR Company. It sings a wonderful song, not as cultured as a BMW six but all the better for being wilder. It seems strong and a very willing performer. As I wind it through the rev range from 1800rpm in second the sound starts as a deep burble low down, onto a haunting mid range howl and then finally, a deafening lion's roar at the top end.
Max power of 360hp arrives at 7000rpm, which is quite high for a large capacity engine and the thrust is brutal with just 1200kg to push around. It flies. I slot third gear and the visceral feeling of speed becomes more intense. A look at the speedo shows we are passing 80. Remembering it’s an imperial measurement I back off, as the rump of the Audi TT we are following comes sharply into view ahead of the Tuscan’s sleek nose.
I slow and look to see Mr. Choi becoming shorter in the passenger seat. A few fast corners earlier he seemed an inch taller. I conclude his height increase is the result of intense buttock-clenching!!! I don’t blame him; the car belongs to a friend of his in Japan so it's a huge compliment that Mr Choi trusts this 24 year-old Aussie to drive it.
The Audi streaks off at the next straight and we follow at a more moderate, Mr. Choi pleasing pace; until the next few corners.
I squeeze the throttle to the floor in second exiting a tight right-hander, then slow for a tight left. The steering is very pointy and the front wheels latch onto the racing line right away, but the softly sprung rear-end unsettles as the weight transfers and a quick stab of corrective lock is required.
This shakes my faith in the car a little. I feel it should corner all of apiece like a true sports car, but it feels like the two ends of the car are disagreeing.
Next corner our entry is a little hotter and the tail swings quite wide. Scenes of fibreglass engaging in an energy transfer with stationary pine trees go through my head, but luckily the road is wide enough and after a left-right booty shake we continue forward. Mr. Choi suggests we slow a little. Heart in mouth, I agree.
We catch the Audi in front and make our way back to the Amusement park.
As we come to some tourist coaches stumbling up the hills, I give the TVR one final squirt and we flash by the buses in a blue streak of British power. I don’t think I can ever take the bus here again.
We finish up by doing a parade lap into the middle of the park passing the ‘Tiger Adventure Land’ where all eyes are on the Tuscan, and park along with a couple of other cars from the show.
As soon as I switch the engine off, I’m surrounded by excited kids and adults all wondering what the car is.
My body is shaking from the experience of driving such an intense car. It has been an unbelievable day.
As I sadly take the bus home after profusely thanking a relieved looking Mr. Choi, I'm still buzzing but can't help feel the poorer for experiencing something that I may never be able to afford.
I needn't worry. As I arrive home I'm still grinning and thinking about the drive, and end up doing so for the whole week.
Super cars are supposed to be feared and respected as much as they are admired. I understand this, but I also know that with TVR canvassing for a larger audience they need to make it more user friendly. The fact that more TVRs are being bought by 'super car virgins' suggests that the company needs to focus on creating a more cohesive car.
The front end is super pointy and has phenomenal race car like grip, but the rear is more subdued, sporting yes, but somewhat dislocated from what’s going on at the front.
Driving hard you sometimes feel like you are controlling two separate cars, which is very scary and not something you want to experience regularly which is a great shame, as I've never seen, or experienced, a more incredible car.
It's gorgeous inside and out, goes like a stabbed rat in a straight line and is achingly desirable. Everything about this hand made vehicle reeks of expertise in making fast, fabulous cars, but where you need confidence that the car will stick to the road, you get only a halfhearted promise of cohesion.
I would still have one though, just for the beauty and theatre that would be every drive.
And for the fact that it sucks any worries out of the driver and manifests itself in the passenger. Poor Mr. Choi.
Mr. Choi's question threw me. Would I like to drive the TVR Tuscan around for the day? Me? Drive the Tuscan? The blue Tuscan? The 120 thousand-dollar Tuscan? The 0-100km in 4.5 second Tuscan that would spit an inexperienced driver into the scenery given the chance?
Any comparative, no matter how witty, would have been adequate to convey how much I wanted to. I nodded, afraid my voice would betray my nervousness. Mr Choi threw me the keys and I walked, with great trepidation, toward the beautiful TVR.
There were just a couple of things that worried me as I ambled across the courtyard. One was the fact that I'd never driven a supercar before. Loved them at a distance proportionate to the folding in my wallet (a long way, trust me!!) but never been able to even sit in one.
The closest I came was at an Aston Martin dealership where I was about insert my arse into a DB7 Zagato when a salesman leapt out of the shadows to tell me that "that one is sold".
Another worry was the beer that Mr. Choi threw me from the esky 20 minutes earlier. If Mr. Choi isn’t worried about the beer, neither am I.
The 360 horsepower lurking under the Tuscan's beautifully sculptured shark-like nose however, still made me feel uneasy.
Looking over the Tuscan 30 minutes earlier was shocking. After seeing it in pictures for months before hand, the size of the car is what I can't now get over. It's so small I that don't think I will fit into it. So low, but so incredibly lithe and focused looking, like a bull-mastiff. All muscle, no fat. Not an inch wasted. A purposefully slippery shape that, thanks to it's easy to form glassfibre panels, looks organic, not manufactured.
From the Swiss cheese front grill, up the twin valley bonnet to the raked back windscreen, across the open T-top to the ovoid rear end, it just flows. The Tuscan looks like a form arrived at by millennia of natural elements working on a piece of rock to create a smooth, flowing shape. Walking around it soaking up the details, like the two bonnets (one to easily access and check fluids; the other, which needs to be unbolted, to view the engine) and the three front lights is fascinating. The spidery seven spoke 18inch wheels with the ultra low profile Pirelli 225/35ZR18 front and 255/35ZR18 rear tyres look sporting, yet elegant and set off the car perfectly.
As I arrive at the driver’s door, Mr. Choi is sitting in the passenger seat waiting for me to stop gawking and start driving. I urge him to be patient as I want to enjoy looking at it before I touch it.
I grab for the door handle. There isn't one. The door is perfectly smooth and devoid of any ornamentation, save the side rear view mirror which, after much laughing, Mr. Choi tells me is where the 'opening button' is.
I press the little rubber nipple and the solenoid thunks the door open. Nice. Ingress is easy, even for 190+cm tall people.
Once seated in the strangely shaped but incredibly comfortable and supportive seats, the view ahead is a true work of art. There are no dull plastics, no harsh surfaces. The interior is an extension of the smooth, sculpted outside. Everything is covered in leather and there are no tacky plastic switches or levers, just beautifully machined brass knobs and buttons.
Everything in the cockpit is incredibly tactile. There is a large crescent shape speedometer, also made of brass, reading to 200mph (This car is a grey import from the U.K) with a digital screen below which can display any number of functions including RPM and fluid temperatures.The steering wheel and the gearshift are my first points of contact, and the billet aluminium of the shift along with the fat suede wrapped non-airbag wheel gives me confidence that they'll transmit my inputs accurately. Nothing for it then except to start it up...
Prelude: I first met Mr. Choi in the flashy suburb of Kangnam in South Korea when I walked into his car showroom after seeing his display of 'car porn' from across the street.
I was an English teacher there for five years, so with Korea being desperately short of decent cars I was always on the lookout for eye candy to subdue my auto lust.
I waltzed in to Mr Choi's showroom and started a conversation in my shoddy Korean about the beautiful cars in the store. They had a handsome, and at the time new, dark blue Ferrari 550 and a red 355 Spyder that I took a particular fancy to along with a Porsche 911 C4 and a C6 Corvette. I then met the boss, Mr. Choi, who in typically generous Korean style listened to my grammatically incorrect questions and then replied in his own broken English, which then became our common language.
I told Mr. Choi about how stunning I thought the red 355 was. He agreed and went on to say that his Japanese business partner would be shipping over 25 cars to Korea for a car show at the Samsung Everland Amusement and motor sport park as a cross promotional gig next month. Would I like a ride in something special? Maybe as a passenger in the Ferrari 355 that I coveted? "That would be awesome" I say.
I then receive a call on a Wednesday night by an inebriated Mr. Choi asking me to come out to a pub with him and his friends. I politely decline. Mr. Choi then went on to say something in Korean about see you tomorrow at to drive the car at the show. I ask him to repeat what he said.
Dates and times were only vaguely alluded to in our first conversation (I half expected never to hear from Mr Choi again) so I call in sick the next day and jump on a bus heading south to Yongin.
I didn't expect to be piloting one of the most no nonsense, balls-out sports cars ever made. I had read a lot about the Tuscan and its zero tolerance for amateurs when driving hard. It is a small car with a big reputation. So with a contented looking Choi in the passengers seat (how many beers he’d had before I arrived, I don’t know) I turn the key and wait. The starter motor engages but the engine doesn’t fire. Mr. Choi tells me you have to pump the pedal like it’s an old-school carburettor-fed engine. I push the long travel floor hinged pedal and turn the key again. A second later the engine roars into life sounding more like a large capacity V8 than a 4 litre 6 cylinder.
I settle my nerves and slot first in the precise gearbox, push the go pedal and slowly let off the clutch. We are underway.
The route that we are taking is around the pine and spruce lined hills and valleys where the Samsung Amusement and Motorsports parks lay.
I've been here before, slowly ascending the hills in a school bus with 50 screaming Korean children. Not a nice way to experience such pretty countryside. The only screaming going on at the moment however, is that brutal straight-six rocketing a worried looking Mr. Choi and (an absolutely elated) me up through another tight hairpin and onto the ensuing straight.
Mr Choi's friend is in the lead car, an Audi TT keeping the pace.
Up and moving the car sounds and feels incredible. The in house designed and manufactured engine is an incredible accomplishment given the scale and resources of the tiny TVR Company. It sings a wonderful song, not as cultured as a BMW six but all the better for being wilder. It seems strong and a very willing performer. As I wind it through the rev range from 1800rpm in second the sound starts as a deep burble low down, onto a haunting mid range howl and then finally, a deafening lion's roar at the top end.
Max power of 360hp arrives at 7000rpm, which is quite high for a large capacity engine and the thrust is brutal with just 1200kg to push around. It flies. I slot third gear and the visceral feeling of speed becomes more intense. A look at the speedo shows we are passing 80. Remembering it’s an imperial measurement I back off, as the rump of the Audi TT we are following comes sharply into view ahead of the Tuscan’s sleek nose.
I slow and look to see Mr. Choi becoming shorter in the passenger seat. A few fast corners earlier he seemed an inch taller. I conclude his height increase is the result of intense buttock-clenching!!! I don’t blame him; the car belongs to a friend of his in Japan so it's a huge compliment that Mr Choi trusts this 24 year-old Aussie to drive it.
The Audi streaks off at the next straight and we follow at a more moderate, Mr. Choi pleasing pace; until the next few corners.
I squeeze the throttle to the floor in second exiting a tight right-hander, then slow for a tight left. The steering is very pointy and the front wheels latch onto the racing line right away, but the softly sprung rear-end unsettles as the weight transfers and a quick stab of corrective lock is required.
This shakes my faith in the car a little. I feel it should corner all of apiece like a true sports car, but it feels like the two ends of the car are disagreeing.
Next corner our entry is a little hotter and the tail swings quite wide. Scenes of fibreglass engaging in an energy transfer with stationary pine trees go through my head, but luckily the road is wide enough and after a left-right booty shake we continue forward. Mr. Choi suggests we slow a little. Heart in mouth, I agree.
We catch the Audi in front and make our way back to the Amusement park.
As we come to some tourist coaches stumbling up the hills, I give the TVR one final squirt and we flash by the buses in a blue streak of British power. I don’t think I can ever take the bus here again.
We finish up by doing a parade lap into the middle of the park passing the ‘Tiger Adventure Land’ where all eyes are on the Tuscan, and park along with a couple of other cars from the show.
As soon as I switch the engine off, I’m surrounded by excited kids and adults all wondering what the car is.
My body is shaking from the experience of driving such an intense car. It has been an unbelievable day.
As I sadly take the bus home after profusely thanking a relieved looking Mr. Choi, I'm still buzzing but can't help feel the poorer for experiencing something that I may never be able to afford.
I needn't worry. As I arrive home I'm still grinning and thinking about the drive, and end up doing so for the whole week.
Super cars are supposed to be feared and respected as much as they are admired. I understand this, but I also know that with TVR canvassing for a larger audience they need to make it more user friendly. The fact that more TVRs are being bought by 'super car virgins' suggests that the company needs to focus on creating a more cohesive car.
The front end is super pointy and has phenomenal race car like grip, but the rear is more subdued, sporting yes, but somewhat dislocated from what’s going on at the front.
Driving hard you sometimes feel like you are controlling two separate cars, which is very scary and not something you want to experience regularly which is a great shame, as I've never seen, or experienced, a more incredible car.
It's gorgeous inside and out, goes like a stabbed rat in a straight line and is achingly desirable. Everything about this hand made vehicle reeks of expertise in making fast, fabulous cars, but where you need confidence that the car will stick to the road, you get only a halfhearted promise of cohesion.
I would still have one though, just for the beauty and theatre that would be every drive.
And for the fact that it sucks any worries out of the driver and manifests itself in the passenger. Poor Mr. Choi.
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