Boiled Sweets

Technically, this is breaking the rules. Our Growers section is supposed to highlight cars that were considered grotty on release but have forged admiration over time. A zero to hero type thing. But the Mazda MX-5 has always been a hero… so what’s it doing here? Well, it’s all relative you see: we’ve just bought one, and despite the endless reams of glowing appraisal we read before handing over the cash, the MX-5’s talent is still a surprise. The reality is better than the superlatives.

For a start, they don’t age. Get into almost any other car that’s a few generations out of date and it’ll feel like stepping into Bobby Davro’s VHS player. Old hot hatches seem vague and loosely bushed, but hard and crashy all at once… old posh saloons feel cumbersome, tacky and slow. But a decent mk1 MX-5 will seem nearly new – less body roll, a snickier gearchange, more granular steering and a more athletic gait than a brand new one.

It’ll only cost 10% of a new one too. The entry price is £1500 – which in metric is very close to being free. And it’s not like it’ll depreciate either. Double your money and you’ll get some of the smartest mk1s about, with less than 80k miles, a full service history, tidy bodywork and a chassis that’s tighter than a nun’s purse. Put in some legwork and you’ll get an LSD, Momo steering wheel and leather seats too.

Taking into account the variety of 110bhp 1.6 and 130bhp 1.8 engines, UK models and Eunos Roadster Japanese imports (square rear numberplate and aftermarket foglight are how to spot these), the two most important factors are condition and history. Condition wise, look out for rusty rear arches, tired bushes that knock over bumps and feel vague, tippety tappets, failed pop-up light motors and perished rubber tubes under the bonnet. History wise, look for as many oil changes as possible (6k isn’t over-doing it) and a cambelt change at 60k… if it’s a Japanese import, any paperwork from before it came over is a bonus.

Both engines are sprightly enough, with the 1.6’s shortfall of horses counteracted by its smoother delivery. Best avoid the post-1995 1.6 though – they’ve got just 88bhp and will only accelerate after a telegram has been sent to Japan asking permission. A UK car will be easier to sell and insure, and will more likely have a more transparent history… but Jap Eunos Roadsters have a better spec (often with A/C), lower miles and less chance of rust – provided they were waxoyled when they were first imported. Like we said, buy on condition above anything else

Overall, they’re massively easy cars to buy, maintain, cherish and abuse – find one with decent UK history, rustless arches, and no chassis clonks or engine rattles and you won’t go far wrong. So, while it’s technically not a Grower, the MX-5’s depreciation-free low price, Russian gymnast chassis and novice-friendly mechanicals make it a worthy exception. And if you don’t agree just go and bloody buy one… we promise it’ll grow on you.

Daubentonia Madagascariensis

Seriously. They make more videos than cars. Bentley have released what must be the final video in the series that has shown the world how their new Mulsanne makes it into the world.

There’s a chicken/egg parallel to the premium supermini market. What came first; the new Mini, or the public’s lust for a posh small car? Almost definitely the former. The car came first, BMW made us want it and now it’s King of the Cocks – a shiny feathered man hen that everyone wants a piece of. Which makes the Citroen DS3 a hungry, wily fox.

And it’s got a lot to do… even after nearly a decade of lording it about the farm on its own, the Mini is yet to be faced with a fox to match it. The Fiat 500 is cheap and cuddly but a bit soft. The Alfa MiTo has an 8C’s face but is secretly rubbish to drive. And the Audi A1 looks great but doesn’t exist yet. The DS3 could be the first bushy tailed urban warrior with a full quota of Mini chomping teeth.

It’s certainly got a wide enough grin… and that counts for a lot when appealing to the clutch-bagged shoppers who want a Mini. LED daytime running lights set the DS3 up with a tarty, glitzy look that only gets more impressive as you head to further down its plumage. Chrome door handles look posh; half-cut, forward leaning B-pillars look mad and smartly surfaced bejewelled lights and badges out-style the Mini in one glance. Fox is sexier than the Cock.

That’s half of the battle won, really. But not all of it. Because Citroen, despite their ginormous improvements over the past few years, still have the slight whiff of ‘value’ around them… and ‘value’ doesn’t sit well with ‘premium’. So, it’s actually a good thing that the DS3 isn’t an awful lot cheaper than a Mini.

Prices start at £11,700 for a 95bhp 1.4VTi petrol with 95bhp – £500 less than the Mini One with similar power, and go up to £15,600 for a 110bhp 1.6HDi diesel with 110bhp – £750 more than a Mini Cooper D with similar power. Awkwardly, or perhaps cleverly, the best DS3, our £15,900, 150bhp 1.6 petrol sneaks into the middle ground between the Cooper and Cooper S for both price and power. Wily, wily Fox avoiding direct Cock comparison.

Perhaps it’s no surprise that Citroen didn’t want their fastest DS3 to square right up to either of the sporty Minis – because even after some sharpening up, the C3 chassis which underpins the DS3 can’t perform the some hot-footed chicken dance as the Mini. It’s not overly baggy or dull, but there’s a touch more body roll, an inch more squat and dive than you’d get in a Mini andless feel through the steering. The upside is a slightly more compliant ride, but there’s no mpg payoff for the softer edge – 42.2mpg is good for a 150bhp petrol, but not so smart next to the 52mpg Cooper and 48mpg Cooper S.

Quite how much the average Mini driver appreciates the chassis under them is up for debate though – so, ignoring the mpg figure, maybe the DS3’s slightly softer set-up will be a good thing. Comfort lovers will prefer the Citroen’s interior too – lighter, less fussy and more spacious, and you get the sense it won’t develop rattles quite as quickly as a Mini too. The 280 litre boot makes the Mini’s 160 litre hole look like somewhere even a battery hen would baulk at too.

So is the DS3 foxy enough to take the King of the Cocks off its pedestal? Not quite. It’s got a better combination of style, space and comfort – but that can’t quite make up for the inferior dynamics and economy. The DS3 deserves to do well on the talents it’s got, but it’s going to have to hand the chicken killing responsibility to the Audi A1. It better tart sharpening its teeth now.

Well known TV production company, Bentley Motors of Crewe, have just released another video showing how they make their new Mulsanne super saloon. In this video, the cleanly shaved men of the North show how the cars make their way down the final assembly line.

Optimus Prime

Knuckle Shuffle

When the Leon was born, Cornish people still spoke Cornish, the mk5 Golf was in the prime of its life, the Astra was rubbish and the previous shape Focus was King. Now though, the mk6 Golf exists, there’s a new Astra which isn’t rubbish and the Focus is still King. So… what have SEAT done to keep the Leon relevant? Paint it orange and give it black wheels of course! Wicked tings!

Obviously, that’s not all. It’s also had a minor redraw inside and out – and more importantly, can now be had in sporty FR spec with VAG’s gratuitously torquey 168bhp common rail 2.0TDI motor. This isn’t just a five-year-old hatchback. This is a five-year-old, facelifted, bright orange diesel hatchback that’s a bit feisty. So, is it still relevant? And does a 168bhp diesel engine make it hot enough?

In terms of relevance, it’s impossible not to start with the price – £19,490. Nearly five grand cheaper than the identically engined Golf GT TDI. The SEAT’s tweaked interior isn’t a patch on the Golf’s rubbery fetish den, and neither does the Spanish car carry the same Waitrose car park clout… but £5k is a lot of money. Enough money to overlook the dip in perceived quality. Enough money to ensure the Leon is still very relevant.

But relevance is nothing if it’s a little bit shit. Let’s not forget that the chassis is a generation-old – even family cars like this see big leaps in quality with each new model. The Leon might be so dynamically outdated that even its cheap price is a waste of cash.

The first thing you notice when you sit in the thing is how snug it feels – short windscreen, dark rooflining and decently low seat. The second thing you notice when you sit in the thing is that it sounds just like a diesel. But once you spool it up and let the low profile tyres contribute their own racket, the diesel drone dies off and it all starts to sound sportier – as well as feeling tightly sprung, firmly damped and actually quite good.

Some ECU magic must have been worked on the engine, because unlike the vast majority of diesels, there’s actually a point to revving it past 4,000rpm. With the peak 258lb ft of torque available from just 1,750rpm it’s easy to just ping yourself around at low revs, but there’s enough genuine power at higher revs to allow a more petrol-minded gear changing style… you don’t just leave it in 4th and lumber out of corners, you stick it in third and let the power pull you out.  A 0-62mph time of 8.2 secs might not sound scintillating… but through the gears, and regardless of revs, it pulls like a kicked donkey.

The chassis doesn’t mind bucking about either.  It’s quite nose-led in the way it snuffles round tighter corners, but in faster corners the Leon’s more neutral and happy enough to shimmy a tail – adjustable, grippy and fun. The steering feedback’s good too, and while the ride is firm it doesn’t ricochet off bumps with so much force as to make you slow down. The only real quibble is the over-keenness of the ESP to grab an outside front wheel if it thinks there’s a bit too much yaw going on – you can’t fully switch it off either.

Let’s not forget that the backdrop to the Leon’s speed and agility are figures of 53.3mpg and 139g/km of CO2 – the economy and emissions of a brand new car, not a five-year-old one. So, while the nuts and bolts are getting on a bit, and the interior is showing its age, the Leon FR TDI is actually a very convincing, excellent value package with a chassis that feels fresh. It’s still just right for anyone who wants to find a happy combination of bright orange corner hooning, low price and real-world fuel saving… there’s a few years left in it yet.

Yup, it’s another one of these Bentley videos featuring regional accents, men who live near Crewe and interesting details about their forthcoming super-saloon monster. In this one, they get all kinky talking about wood, leather and stitching. Phwoar.

Honda commissioned some London types to make a promo video for the CR-Z, so off they went with a box of Wilco lasers and a Handycam. This is what they made. Looks cool, shame about the soft-core music.

Can you make a carrot taste meaty? Think about it – because it’s a tough and incredibly pertinent question. Would you even want to? Aren’t carrots and meat better off in harmonious, balanced diet co-existence? Or would life be easier if you could get a meat hit and vegetably goodness from one crunchy stick? It’s a tricky one. And so is the new Honda CR-Z… because it throws up the exact same quandary.

Honda call their new coupe the world’s first ‘sporty hybrid’ – a juxtaposition of words just as awkward as ‘meaty carrot’. At the £16k to £20k price level of the CR-Z, hybrids have always been about economy, economy and a little bit more economy. Very much carrot cars. So, has adding some sporty meat diluted the purity of the carrot or made it a more widely desirable dish? Is it good?

Against all odds, yes. As long as you manage your expectations. The engine, for instance is very much carrot – a 1.5 litre, 112bhp version of the Insight’s 1.3 petrol unit, which together with the Insight’s 14bhp electric motor can muster a peak of 122bhp. Which gives the CR-Z the performance of a car that isn’t fast.

But thanks to a grunty exhaust note and decent 128lb ft wedge of torque from a low 1,500rpm, it still feels meaty enough to call itself sporty – and the 9.9 sec 0-62mph time sits well with the combined 56mpg and 117g/km of CO2. Only just squeezing under the 10 second 0-62mph mental block might sound weak, but let’s get back to the CR-Z’s price again – it’s at entry level Scirocco and mid-spec Volvo C30 money. Of the three S, Sport and GT trims, Honda expect the £18k Sport to sell the best – an £18k Scirocco 1.4 TSI is just two tenths quicker to 62mph, but 10mpg worse off. The Scirocco TDI is £3k more, half a second quicker but no more economical. An £18k Volvo 2.0SE will crack 62mph in 9.4 secs but won’t even do 40mpg.

It all adds up to an enticing package for real life humans who want a rorty sound, angular metal and a decent chance of not being forced into poverty at every BP visit. Honda have clearly worked hard on giving it a proper exhaust note too.

It’s a similar menu of well-judged finesse for the chassis – a lower, stiffer and wider version of what you’ll find under the body of a Jazz supermini or Insight hybrid. The forgiving, easy nature of the Jazz is tangible, but bolstered with a keener to turn, sharper attitude. Carrot shaped Jazz with beefed up geometry. There isn’t an endless meaty bucket of grip, or an overdone attitude to firmness and roll control – just an intelligent balance between fleet footed fun and soft edged compliance.

The alertness of the Scirocco is missing, but so is the occasionally crashy ride, while it both corners and cossets better than the C30. You just can’t quite shake off the feeling that an extra 30bhp would transform it from incredibly enjoyable to proper fun. There’s always the rumoured Mugen version…

What it does better than either Scirocco or C30 is look a little bit special, inside and out. The first glimpse most people had of the CR-Z was at the Detroit Motor Show last year, where it seemed under-wheeled, awkwardly angled and slightly bulbous around the bonnet. In the flesh, on the streets, it now looks spot on. And it gets better on the inside. Some of the plastics that make up the lower half of the dash feel like they’d crack on a sunny day, but the top half and touch points all feel posh enough, with a genuinely fresh feeling to the design and layout. The decently snicky 6-speed manual (the first time such a box has been bolted onto a hybrid powertrain) deserves mention too. Meaty, but not erm… too fatty or stodgy. Hmm.

So, there’s just enough meat to the way it sounds, corners and goes to justify Honda’s apparently contradictory placement of the word ‘sporty’ next to the word ‘hybrid’. This carrot got meat. And, bizarrely, all of the hybrid electronics actually add to this sporty feel – not just in the way that the electric motor pushes you along with a hint of turbo like torque, but in the way the workings of the powertrain are presentered to the driver. There are three driving modes; Normal, Eco and Sport, all of which feature their own mini-technicolour dash show and appropriate dynamic tweaks.

In Sport mode, the throttle response is sharper, steering weightier, electric motor more keen to assist and instrument binnacle light a constant red. Hit normal and the throttle softens off, steering eases up, electric motor holds itself back and the instruments glow to reflect your driving style – green is good, blue adequate and red bad (otherwise known as fast). Eco mode softens things up so far as to be offensive and even weakens the car’s air con to keep fuel efficiency up. As well as the mood glowing lights, the CR-Z also shows five LED trees which either shed or grow leaves depending on your driving. Trying to make them all fall off as quickly as possible is clearly the best game to play, but attempting to nurture them back again does at least provide the opportunity for fun when you’re not driving like a robber.

These little gimmicks help you realise you’re not just driving a slightly underpowered coupe – you’re driving a car that lets you choose between class-beating economy and class matching performance. Instead of questioning whether you can make a carrot taste meaty, or how much the world really needs one, the CR-Z has a wide enough spread of talents to let you just accept it for what it is – a good value, fun to drive, comfortable and smartly resolved coupe. It might not look great on the menu, but Honda have made the world’s first meaty carrot. Very well done.

Apparently, 1 in 5 Panda cars are Vauxhall Astras – they’re more popular amongst British cops than big hats and a slightly condescending tone. So get used to keeping an eye out for this:

Vauxhall’s sixth Astra is making its way onto British Police fleets and it’s better suited than ever for the hard graft of duty. Not just because it’s got loads of cubby holes for storing Greggs pasties either. The interior doesn’t need any modification to accomodate all the exciting data panels, radios or control panels, and there even appears to be a special place to store a tiny little hammer that can be used to donk baddies on the head with. How much do you want to find out what all the buttons do? Very much indeed, that’s right.

So while cop cars like the Evo X, Focus ST and the Italian’s recently crashed Gallardo get all the press, spare a thought for the humble, hard working Vauxhall Astra – it catches more crims in a week than Gene Hunt does in an entire series. Respect.

In this video, the deftly fingered men of Bentley talk through the build process of their new Mulsanne’s twin turbo V8 engine. If you’re a fan of meccano, animated combustion and charming regional accents, you’re going to bloody love it.

The previous Sorento always seemed at its most comfortable with a Border Collie on the back seat, some wellies in the footwell and a small cottage connected to the towbar. With a body-on-frame chassis, low transfer box and live rear axle, it was a farmers’ weapon that shifted nearly a million units across the world.

Which makes the new Sorento a brave move by Kia – because with a monocoque chassis and independent suspension, it’s completely different. More for Mrs Farmer and the family than Mr Farmer himself.

Happily for Mrs Farmer, Sorento mk2 is also very good. The hero is Kia’s brand new, 194bhp 2.2CRDi engine – especially when hooked up to the smooth £1300 6-speed auto box. Spinning between 1800 and 2500rpm, peak torque of 311lb ft is maintained quietly with the box shuffling through ratios without bother. Bumble around in this comfort zone and the Sorento’s 38mpg combined figure isn’t out of reach either. A good engine.

And Mrs Farmer won’t complain when she encounters her first corner. Body roll is kept to a minimum, the steering has a consistent and natural feel from its hydraulic assistance and there’s more than enough grip and stability to stand up to any emergency sheep avoidance routines. A slightly over-firm ride is the trade-off for making a 1.8 tonne SUV corner without drama – but it’s not a deal breaker.

Nor is the interior. All but the base £20,495 2.4 litre petrol (which is next to pointless) have 7 seats, with a rear pair that are big enough to transport children with limbs, but small enough to use as a method of punishment if they get lippy. Pay £25,495 for the mid-spec KX-2 trim and you get leather, climate control, rear parking sensors and cruise control – it all contributes to an ambience that Mrs Farmer might feel is too push for her husband. Best not tell him that even her new Sorento has actually got a pretty handy 4×4 transmission then.

Perhaps the interior plastics are a little brittle, and perhaps the price looks strong next to a £24k Nissan Qashqai+2 with similar spec – but there’s no escaping from the fact that Mrs Farmer’s new Sorento is a much smarter car than Mr Farmer’s old one.