The Sunday Times Online (UK):
November 25, 2007
Stay out of the real world, my little beauty
Jeremy Clarkson
I do not like to be late. Actually, that’s not strictly accurate. I don’t know whether I’d like to be late because it’s never happened. And it’s never happened because I usually drive very powerful cars, which means I can always make up the time.
Last week, though, there was a disaster. I’d planned to leave at 11.45am for an appointment in Birmingham. But you know how things are. I couldn’t find my phone charger. I’d lost my house keys. One of the dogs was missing. And did I turn my computer off? I’ll just go and check and Oh Christ, now it’s 11.55.
This would mean averaging 60mph and that’s no bother in a Koenigsegg or a Caparo. But then I opened the front door to find that sitting there, all blue and useless, was a Mazda2. And for that little dollop of extra misery, it wasn’t even the 1.5 version. It was the 1.3, and 1.3 litres, in liquid terms, is barely enough to quench the thirst of a dehydrated man. At a pinch, 1.3 litres might, just, be able to power an egg whisk but for making up time on a trip to Birmingham it’s hopeless.
However, in the course of that journey, I had an epiphany. I was exposed to something cruel and unusual. Something I’ve not experienced for 20 years or more. I believe it’s called the real world.
I’ve often wondered why there are so many people out there who hate cars, who find them noisy, dangerous, antisocial and unbecoming of a civilised state. Some of these people, for sure, have frizzy hair and eat only leaves, but others are, apparently, quite normal.
I can understand they might not find driving fun but I cannot understand why they won’t accept that the car, at the very least, is a useful tool. Or rather, I could not understand until I tried that Mazda.
If you are looking for a small five-door hatchback, there are many reasons why you might be drawn to this car. Unlike anything else I can recall, it is actually smaller than its predecessor. And better still, it is lighter as well. It weighs less than a ton, in fact, which means you will get better fuel economy and more speed. I took a good long look around the cab – God knows there was time – to see if I could work out how this weight had been shed but other than the dash, which looks like it was made by John Noakes, it seems to be just as well equipped and just as robust as any other small car. And just as spacious as well.
What’s more, being a Mazda, its is likely to be reliable. And when you add this to the low group 4 insurance bracket, the £9,999 price tag and the rather cheeky looks, it’s easy to see why those who just want a tool might be tempted by such a thing. As small hatchbacks go, it’s excellent.
But here’s the problem. You see, while this may be the best of breed, it just isn’t good enough for the real world. Coming out of Chipping Norton, on the road to Shipston-on-Stour, there’s a long, slightly uphill straight on which you can overtake the dithering old fool who just spent 20 minutes in the town being confused by the double mini roundabout. And who is now in a such a state of shock, he’s doing 3mph.
Not in a 1.3 litre hatchback you can’t. You drop a cog on the five-speed box, weld your foot to the floor and pull onto the other side of the road . . . where 10 minutes later you can still be found, sweating slightly, as you wonder whether you will get past before the long straight is over, or whether it would be prudent to brake and admit defeat.
Defeat seemed like a good idea. So I eased off, slipped back into the old man’s slipstream and realised, with a heavy heart and sagging shoulders, that in a car such as this, overtaking is not on the menu. And as a result, you are forced to drive everywhere at the same speed as the slowest driver on the road. Often, this stretches the concept of “movement”.
Eventually, and happily, the man in front died – I think he’d grown weary of spending so much time in his own company – and I could open the taps on the little Mazda.
It was horrible. Because it is built to a price, for people who don’t like driving and simply want a tool, everything on it feels cheap and nasty. The electric power steering is too sudden. The suspension is too rubbery. The brakes are too sharp. So even at moderate(ish) speeds, it felt disconnected, unstable and twitchy.
Think of it as a motorway service station sandwich. It was not created to be the best sandwich in the world. The chef had nothing to prove. He simply wanted to offer some of the important food groups for the smallest possible price. There is no truffle oil. There is no homemade cheese. There is absolutely nothing to surprise and delight the enthusiastic motorist who wants something a little bit more than ham made from tyres, butter made from petroleum byproducts, and 129 carbon dioxides to the kilometre. Eventually, after what felt like several months, I reached the motorway and accelerated down the slip road. I had gravity on my side, and 85bhp. This would have been great in 1957 but it sure as hell isn’t enough in 2007 because by the time I reached the main carriageway, I was only doing 50 and that’s too slow to join the inside lane without causing the onrushing lorry to have to brake.
So there I was, sandwiched between a truck full of Polish pies and Eddie Stobart, doing 56 . . . and there was simply no possibility of getting into the middle lane at all. I didn’t have enough oomph to move out because, on the modern motorway, there is always something coming and with only 1.3 litres I couldn’t match its speed before making the manoeuvre.
Small wonder people who buy cars such as this can’t see that driving is useful or fun. It isn’t. It’s either dull or terrifying.
And it gets worse because in Birmingham my car was valet parked in the hotel’s 4m-acre car park by a chap who was a) mildly surprised to see me step from such a thing and b) not on duty when I went to collect it four days later for the journey home again.
This meant I had to find it myself and that’s pretty damn hard when you can’t remember anything about it. Most of the hotel staff came to help, with one asking what it looked like. “It’s car shaped,” I explained, “and possibly blue.”
Or red. I do believe the Mazda2 is a good small car but in the cut and thrust of modern driving, and especially on a motorway network full of BMW M3s and Romanian lorry drivers on speed, it is terrible. You would be better off on the bus or the train. Or walking on your hands and knees, while naked.
The fact is that, these days, you need power to survive and I really do think the government should stop fannying about with speed cameras and home zones and congestion charging. The cities are fine. It’s the rest of the road network that needs to be addressed.
What I propose, then, is a ban, on any derestricted road, for any car that does not have at least 150bhp under the bonnet. This way, you won’t hate me for trying to get past in my Lamborghini and I won’t hate you for being in my way. By keeping us apart, it will make Britain a kinder, more understanding place. And in addition, it will remove the single biggest danger on the roads today: big differences in speed.
We’ll all be going quickly out there and that means we’ll all have time to find our dogs and still arrive on time. The Mazda2, then, is excellent. But if I were running the Department for Transport, I’m afraid I’d have it banned.
Vital statistics
Model Mazda2 1.3 TS2 five-door
Engine 1348cc, four cylinders
Power 85bhp @ 6000rpm
Torque 90 lb ft @ 3500rpm
Transmission Five-speed manual
Fuel 52.3mpg (combined cycle)
CO2 129g/km
Acceleration 0-62mph: 12.9sec
Top speed 107mph
Price £9,999
Verdict Excellent, economical hatch, but it’s still completely rubbish
NOTE: This is another GIBBERISH review by Jeremy Clarkson. Typical Clarksonish review. If you didn't notice, He proposed "a ban, on any derestricted road, for any car that does not have at least 150bhp under the bonnet. This way, you won’t hate me for trying to get past in my Lamborghini and I won’t hate you for being in my way. By keeping us apart, it will make Britain a kinder, more understanding place". Here's some of his SELECTED "FANS" comments:
COMMENT 1: "Some years ago I had an Alfa Sprint with 85bhp - I could overtake in that. My current Audi A4 diesel 'only' has 140 bhp while my previous Volvo S40 had 115 bhp - I have/had no trouble in overtaking. Get yourself a diesel Jeremy and feel the turbo come in - you sure can overtake with a lot less than 150 bhp (at least that wouldn't exclude an Alfa GT diesel or a Volvo with the magnificent D5 engine)". by Ian Burgess, Bristol
COMMENT 2 (a negatively GOOD one):
"Poor Jeremy. Spends his life in Ferraris, Porches, Mercedes, Lamborghinis etc, etc. (See Top Gear). When for the first time in years he gets into the sort of car that the real world drives he can't take it. Surprised he didn't comment on the lack of paddle shifts! Maybe it's not the fastest of cars, nor the best on the motorway, but that's not it's made for!" by Mark, Cardiff, UK
COMMENT 3 (Positive one): ""Sensational provocation"....Jeremy's speciality and refreshing for it. A healthy dose of snobbery has not hurt the argument either, or for that matter his loathing of poltical correctness. I enjoyed it all because it was typically Clarkson and he is VERY good at it". by Malcolm Wright, Paignton,
COMMENT 4: (Neutral one) "Jeremy, I've been reading you for ages and as much as I usually like your views, today you've lost it completely!
The three commandments of the good driver:
1. Know how to stop the vehicle
2. Know what you're driving
3. Act accordingly
You already knew it was a 1.3 litre engine and obviously that's not meant for speeding but for fuel economy . It's a bit like trying to introduce you as a sensible and open minded chap...
Next time try and be a bit fairer to the subject of analysis using it for what it was meant for and drive in a rush with your Lambo or one of the many XC90 you seem to own!" by Alfredo Nieto, Madrid, Spain
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