Spare a thought for one of motoring’s perennial wallflowers.
Over fifty years have flowed since the first Corolla rolled from Toyota City. That most difficult of entities, the second album entitled E20 might be the subject of today’s looking glass but first a dip into the ever-deepening pool of Corolla lore.
In the early 1960s Japan began its economic miracle in similar fashion to that of Germany. Huge investment in infrastructure led to products such as the bullet train, colour TV, and air conditioning. Cars too, along with far better road surfaces and longer distances for that smooth tarmac – so now the public wanted to Continue reading “Hidden Blossom, Inner Flower”
Skoda’s success story in Ireland is such that the Czech carmaker is cementing its position, naming its latest in honour of its most lucrative musical export. No Bono… sit down, it isn’t you.
The Czech based, German owned, global (excepting the United States) manufacturer, Škoda, has form with odd names; some of whom have been covered on this site afore, the Octavia at least meaning eighth. The Superb is an old name, Rapid too. Then came the K-Škoda’s: Kodiak, Karoq, Kamiq, which, if one listens to or reads to Škoda’s PR treadmill, all have meaningful and charismatic connotations, background: spirit. Along with increasing difficulty in differentiating between them.
Then, from out of the primordial soup leapt something called Enyaq. Yes, you read that correctly: Enyaq. That treadmill must have blown a fuse, for this name is surrounded by Celtic myths, rolling green pastures, and the dulcet ululations of Enya, the Irish singer once of the band, Clannad. Her original name being Eithne Pádraigín Ní Bhraonáin, anglicising to Enya Patricia Brennan. Continue reading “A Goblin Green Plies the Lanes of Ireland”
The Alfa Romeo 156: when I clapped eyes on that car, well, it really was love at first sight. Those looks, that stance, look at the wheels! The aura surrounding the badge, the singular, front door handle… hang on. Where is the rear door handle? This a four door saloon..
Sleepless in Sheffield, Andrew Miles turns to tried and trusted methods.
Robbed of sleep by frazzled nerve endings, I turned (as one does) to that comfort blanket known as the internet. My searching led to previously unknown (to me) demographic targets that manufacturers use to ascertain future sales.
The new Škoda Octavia RS (appearing to have dropped the ‘v’) along with the muscular Scout were being virtually revealed in a ninety minute long video. Supported by a cast of dozens of minions introducing their own particular nuance; infotainment, Head up Display, transmissions and engine parameters, to name just a few, the big guns fired the opening salvoes to a sparse audience, seated around circular tables and to practically unsocial amounts of distance. Bottles of water and disposable coffee cups clearly seen on every table.
Morocco is changing. Having vivid and fond memories from the heyday of CAR magazine in the seventies and eighties where a story headed off towards (or perhaps away from) the Sahara, or following the sinuous roads through the Atlas Mountains; images enticing us with not only the car in question but the souks and markets, faraway towns and remote villages that could’ve been from a thousand years ago, not merely thirty or so. One could almost Continue reading “Lecker Aufs Land”
Andrew Miles recalls an Italian-American design highlight from the creative heyday of the Latin carrozzeiri.
The late and prolific Tom Tjaarda left behind an amazing legacy of work; take at look at Richard Herriott’s obituary to him from June 2017, but for me there is one unusual, yet standout design I knew nothing about. That is until Matteo Licatta and his Roadster-Life website introduced a conceptual one-off from the hand of Michigan born, but Italian based sculptor, the Rondine.
Pronounce it Ron-deen -ay and to these eyes, this car is as pretty as a peach, as distinctive as any Ferrari whilst offering a symphony of speed that only the Hirundinidae can deliver. For the Rondine is underneath a Chevrolet Corvette C2. And here’s an unusual twist; General Motors’ Bill Mitchell commissioning Pininfarina to give the bodywork a good scrub up and tailor a new suit which made its Paris Motor Show debut in 1963.
As if the Corvette requires any form of introduction, but the Rondine, with that sharp suit of fibreglass adds a divine lightness to the form. Whereas the Corvette might Continue reading “The Italian Swallow”
Time accelerates as we get older, so one feels moderately for the youth of today. Take my work colleague, Sophie, who at 21 is onto her fourth car in as many years. Initially hesitant about learning to drive, with some encouragement from friends and family, she passed the theory and then the practical exam four summers ago.
The romance of the open road. Being your own boss. A scaled down Knight of the Road, if you will. However much your magenta tinted spectacles may offer such views, in today’s dog eat dog road conditions, it’s mighty tough out there. Especially if you’re a photocopier engineer with a large region to cover and your given steed is a B8 Passat estate – in grey. Cliched, isn’t it? Though Mark definitely does not sell the machines, his remit is simply to Continue reading “Mark, His Mk8 Motor and a Mackerel”
By humble, allow me to draw your attention towards the base model – if indeed one can deign to call anything from the house of Porsche bog standard? Motor journalists of this world along with, it would seem, most people with blood racing fervently require the cream: the Turbos, the GTs, the ones immortalised in computer game-land.
£82,795 is the price of a basic Carerra typ 992 in the United Kingdom. For your hard earned, you get 385PS, and 182mph v-max. 0-62 mph takes a mere 4.2 seconds. Petrol consumption is mid twenties. Probably the most important figure however being the one perched behind the wheel of such a vehicle for just over £1200 per month. Don’t ask for the end-game value. And no, they don’t Continue reading “The Humble 911”
Our Sheffield-based scribe hasn’t tyred of his rubber fixation. Not by some stretch…
The Firestone Tire & Rubber Company was inaugurated on 3rd August 1900 in similar fashion to arch rival, Goodyear. Harvey Samuel Firestone had previous business experience prior to moving from Chicago to the rubber town of Akron, Ohio, a minuscule, hard working and honest workforce (all employees names known), followed by an explosion of fortune and growth. Fierce amidst board and courtroom alike, Harvey S Firestone was a philanthropist at heart – employees were paramount.
A second automotive stopover in that London, courtesy of our North Western-correspondent.
A good Yorkshire name. Strong, instinctive, different; as was the car company company of old. Having the wherewithal to open a showroom in the forever fashionable London West One district was something of a masterstroke. Shame that Jowett failed in giving their ever-enthusiastic salesman, John Baldwin much to sell; the windows showing for far too long nothing but a Bradford van and small scale model of a Javelin.
Never troubling the big makes due to insignificant export sales and therefore restricted access to all-important steel supplies, Jowett cars of Bradford in the former West Riding of Yorkshire shone so very brightly – if for a brief time.
Today Andrew Miles takes us a virtual trip to the UK’s Capital, to celebrate one of its architectural (and automotive-related) gems.
Many moons have waxed and waned since this building’s walls housed typewriters chattering along with the clang of the wheel wrench and the heady aroma of rubber. These days (well at least before the virus that must not be mentioned) you’d more likely Continue reading “Londinium Trio 1 – Maison du Bibendum”
Steve Marriott was lead singer and co-creator of 1960’s Mod four-piece, The Small Faces. In their 1968 track, Donkey Rides, A Penny, A Glass… Marriott alludes to wasting his days in idyllic fashion in a caravan at the seaside. Mind you, the band’s subject matter also included (and indubitably entertained) various substances; references being made to the breakfast cereal All-bran, tin soldiers jumping into fire and life affirming measures that only those of a certain age could possibly appreciate.
As a ‘70s child, blissfully innocent of free-love and mind expanding powders, for me the band produced consistent results, a little like some Swedish artisans cooking up glass, deep in Småland.*
Orrefors (end it with a shh) are producers of fine glassware and have been shaping crystals for many years. Building a smithy and forge by the river which flows into the lake Orrenas, the company’s name translates as the Iron Waterfall. The car connection appeared when Volvo asked them to Continue reading “Small Faces”
Today, Andrew Miles gets his Super Trouper out for the lads.
Research (undertaken by no-one in particular) has shown racing cars to be 0.02 faster and infinitely more aggressive when their lights are switched on. My amazement is that manufacturers haven’t as yet cottoned on to this phenomenon.
Car makers spend spend a great deal of time and resources on those devices that help us to see and be seen. From the rudimentary acetylene lamps of yore to today’s laser beam-like LED’s found in ever more angular and reflective cages. The head, and indeed tail lights can make or break a car’s appearance.
Goodness, it’s May already. I started writing this in BC-19, that’s Before Covid-19 and planned it as a light-hearted retrospective on otherwise terrifying geopolitical matters. Well, how was I to know?
Leonid Brezhnev was astute in having cars offered as sweeteners for diplomatic (or otherwise) talks to occur. Thus, wildly differing guesses flit anywhere from fifty to five hundred cars being accrued by the former Soviet Leader.
With the Russian Bear (as always) rather keen on security, most of the information is speculative at best, we simply do not know what happened to the majority of those automotive gifts. Those we do however, have quite the story to tell. Brezhnev preferred the foreign motor but would occasionally Continue reading “An American In Red Square”
With a belated and probably now irrelevant report on February’s UK car sales figures (which is hardly his fault), Andrew Miles reviews the state of play before the world stopped.
Sales are king and the king is dead. With new realities affecting every facet of life, buying a new car has become as intangible as believing in Lancia’s return to UK shores or searching the heavens for flying pigs.
But car sales do continue, if only a trickle to their former flood, and practically all on-line as dealerships are firmly closed. Using the UK’s Society of Motor Manufacturers and Traders (SMMT) year to date figures (and the up to press February version) reveals this island’s uptake of shiny metal boxes before we were ordered to Continue reading “The Numbers Game”
Whilst the maker upon the end of this particular skewer cannot be held responsible for the quietening of the world, they’ve hardly brought anything positive to the table of late either. Values, like fashion and opinions, can change rapidly, and not always for the better. In a world obsessed by communication, attempting to Continue reading “Lost In Translation”
Settle down, you rabble. You’re in for a while. Get another Bog Myrtle in and pay attention, there’ll be questions later.
[Editor’s note: This article was written prior to the current restrictions on gatherings and in no way advocates the practice of public house lock-ins – well, not in the current climate at least…]
Much like home door locks, car locks had been rudimentary for years. The 1970s witnessed a change in thinking (in a pretty vain attempt) to prevent rampant car theft. Years in the development stages, mainly in the USA, Wilmot-Breedon would become an integral cog of the British car industry, sadly suffering a similar fate.
Carl Louis Breedon enters proceedings around 1929 when the engineering firm Josiah Parkes & Son of Willenhall, Birmingham introduced the wafer tumbler lock to him. This used flat metal wafers that required the correct key in order for the lock to Continue reading “It’s A Lock In!”
Once upon a time, a man wished to buy a car. This wasn’t his first purchase; no, he was experienced at this game. But this was new to him. A newspaper, nay, phone book thick weekly publication, chock full of tiny pictures, reliable information and the sellers telephone number. Buying, and indeed selling cars just got a whole lot easier. And where better to Continue reading “The Trader and The Smallest Room”
Admission time: Our South Yorkshire scribe admits to plutocratic leanings. Don’t judge him too harshly.
Guilty pleasures: We all have them but usually they’re tucked away deep – embarrassment or face-saving proving too strong a reason for them to flourish. Only recently, my guarding firewall gave way, allowing a fissure to appear and hotter temperatures to rise, potentially leaving me well and truly in hot water. If only with the DTW readership.
A late evening encounter with a synthesized Audi crossover got our Sheffield operative thinking about additives.
Mono Sodium Glutamate, or MSG was invented back in 1908 by a Japanese chemist named Kikunae Ikeda who was searching for a food additive he named umami which is given as “neither sweet, nor salty, bitter or sour” and was marketed by the fledgling Suzuki company, though under the brand name Aji-no-moto, itself a part of Suzuki pharmaceuticals. Its European name is E-621. Do Suzuki make a car with that code name in Japan?
In the halcyon pre-Covid past, a night out at a local Latin American restaurant, where the tapas was tasty, the cigars and rum both plentiful and expensive (neither sampled) and the beats both seductive and loud, led to a rather unexpected (and frustrating) conversation regarding car design with my better half. Well kind of. The rum and ‘gars must Continue reading “Bland Recipe? Add E-621”
Hi there. The name’s Dieter Ogley. Born in Heidelberg, well, just outside at Boxberg but raised in Barnsley, South Yorkshire from the age of twelve. My mother was a nurse at the local hospital, whereas my dad was a mining engineer who was offered a job in the then thriving coal business in Barnsley.
This meant leaving our German roots and coming over to England, since the job offered dad a whole new world underground to explore. But then the big strike happened and the work dried up. Mining became a forgotten venture; it still occurred but with only so many jobs to go round, it was hard to Continue reading “Gorden? Nein, Dieter!”
Our Sheffield correspondent encounters a Cullinan.
Sheffield is a city synonymous for not only making but also the shaping of steel. Construction and heavy industry to more specific, not to mention artisanal variations such as myriad uses in the cutlery, aero and medical fields. Some of that steel ends up in the carmaking business. Sadly, some too resides within men’s hearts.
The site of our local retail park was once Fox steel works of Stocksbridge, providing employment for the whole town at one point, making the steel and wire for umbrellas. When the 1980s recession hit, the steel ceased flowing and a dilapidated site remained for years. That is until the supermarkets began to take over land purchases from house builders, before even those plans went west. This left a cleared area but nothing to build. Until Mark Dransfield and his property investment business arrived to Continue reading “The Beast”
Having originated with the production of looms, the Toyota motor company have since made significant inroads into driving the world. While Germany may be the car’s father, its mother French, to say nothing of its American cousin who made it larger than life, we must look East for precision and calculation. And a nice slice of toast. Good: on with the show.
The H from the above title refers to Hilux, that simple derivation of High and Luxury which has gone on to be a worldwide success story. Now onto its 8th generation and upwards of seventeen million sold since its 1968 inception – beloved by farmer, builder, explorer, desert racer. More commonly today with the office worker.
Time nor tide waiteth for no man, so the saying goes. One example of this being the BBC. Initiated in 1922 with only a handful of board members, one being First World War pilot Cecil Lewis whose book Sagittarius Rising is an exemplary account of the war in the air. As readable as it is terrifying, it’s a (then) young mans story told amidst horrendous circumstances. I digress.
Once upon a time the BBC was referred to as Auntie Beeb, for the corporation inspired warmth with the added sense of being impartial yet caring. And gave us Morecombe & Wise. But time and the internet has had huge implications on the Beeb’s persona and some of that friendliness has been lost. Trying not to drown in recent political, environmental and medical travails however, my eyes spied something of relevance: Garages.
Once Toyota had fixed their new sales horizon firmly upon the United States, there were bound to be some noses put out of joint. More tellingly, there were plenty of takers. Thirty years ago, the LS400 won over the hearts of wealthy Americans along with those seeking a more quality feel to what was otherwise being offered. The recipe was surprisingly simple. High-end engineering, longevity and product quality, be nice to customers at service or repair time. Ford and GM must have been on vacation.
Gaining that foothold in a predominantly stateside motoring landscape, with the Europeans snapping at the ankles, Lexus were refreshingly bold. Sales rattled up, announcing a sea change to the perceived automotive aristocracy. And that pitch continues today with ever more resonance: the vehicles have changed but not the philosophy.
Well, not quite, because while Lexus see themselves as purveyors of quality, luxurious transport these days, they no longer confine themselves to the tarmac roads. Anyone with the means can park their delightful Garnet Red LS, with added kiriko glass embellishments, at the golf course, gun club or shopping mall. But surely better to Continue reading “Got The Car? Get The Yacht”
The ninetieth rendition of the Geneva Motor Show, billed as Europe’s largest, is almost upon us. It seems barely five minutes since the last one.
Several manufacturers have chosen not to play this time. Bats and balls safely stored away. Lamborghini are preferring to chose more bespoke events to launch models. The PSA combine, which these days includes nearly ever other car on the road it seems, are staying home with the fire turned up to the third bar. JLR are most definitely not leaving Blighty either, an odd decision for when new Def’ner is almost ready to Continue reading “A Geneva Gaffe?”
Casting a covetous gaze, Miles across the ocean. Japan-wards.
Global warming, derisory interest rates, carbon footprints and theatrical leaders – our concerns may skirt those borders but we choose to look beyond them. Further to our recent gaze Eastwards, I have been looking into just what is available from our Japanese cousins, purely for research purposes, you understand.
Several different car club members of my acquaintance have purchased a car from Japan. A Mercedes C180 whose specification resembles nothing to what one buys in Europe, rust-free Lancias, and MX-5s bought on the basis of originality. That’s a pretty wide range of types and pricing. But all were purchased here in the UK, meaning that someone else did the importation and paperwork.
The creative apex of Toyota and Lexus’ latterday ambitions – we examine the LF-A’s backstory.
With Lexus celebrating thirty years of production (though only fifteen in Japan, where until 2004 they were still Toyota) the Japanese firm are keen to share some of their three decades of stories. They are to be congratulated on their openness. Exactly five hundred Lexus LF-A’s were made over a two year period which equates to one built per day after holidays. By hand too I might add, no production line for this exclusive halo-car. As to their cost… we’ll come back to that shortly.
The Lexus Fuji-Apex was a true supercar from every conceivable angle but the car’s birth proved difficult. In fact for its short life, drama and tragedy clung to the cars flanks, fortunately bowing out on a high, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s Continue reading “Born of Frustration”
Let’s wind the clock back to see some thoughts on the SC from our recent history.
The RAC in 2008 said the car was “too soft for Europe” in both style and set up. Honest John (no date specified) thought red best to show off the shapely curves, whereas What Car? opined that non-metallic colours were less desirable, avoid red like the plague and choose black. Ok…
Parker’s have their Pro’s and Con’s section right at the top. Clear and concise, splendid. Pro’s: “Superbly built and reliable, excellent refinement and smooth V8“. Con”s: “Ugly (don’t Continue reading “10, 8, 6… (Part Two)”
We introduce something of a Japanese (and Toyota-based) micro-theme for the month of February, with an appreciation of a much maligned Grand Turismo from 1999.
No, this is not some Only Connect quiz show number sequence type thing. These numbers actually refer to a decade long tenure (including concept) run of a V8 motor who on its first day of public showing sold six examples. To which do we allude?
The Lexus Sports Coupé 430, a forgotten car, a misjudged one (in my eyes), and now mellowed in middle age.
Huddersfield, set in the old West Riding which is now plain West Yorkshire since the 1974 border alterations, is a former mill town. In the very heart of England’s Backbone, the Pennine Hills, it’s a welcoming place. At times (locals say Always) the weather can prove bleak and those surrounding millstone grit hills can make for an ominous backdrop – when the rain isn’t horizontal.
Folk round here are rounded as well as grounded. They’ll call a spade a shovel and are open with advice and generosity. Patrick Stewart and James Mason were born and raised here – a few silver screen appearances between them. And a fellow named Wilson went on to Continue reading “Yorkshire Grit”
What need could we possibly have to RTFL? Rather a lot, as it happens…
Men. We do not require an instruction book; perhaps only to enforce our knowledge upon those who know not. Nor hints to work the car. We are men. We know. Even if the eyes are strained and the arm becomes trombone-like, we shall not bow down to the book.
That is until we need to tap into the sub-menu that operates the dual heating options. And the stay on lights‘ length: do we need them at twenty five, or thirty seconds? I know a chap who was openly boastful at not knowing how to Continue reading “A is for Acronym”
Not simply keen on filling out streets with their wares, Toyota and Lexus are now about to launch a mobility scheme to the world.
Kinto, from their phrase Kinto-un, a fast moving service getting you wherever you need to go, is their mobility solution for every occasion. With life becoming increasingly dependent on internet connections and lives refusing to follow a set pattern, this Japanese idea of motion plans to cover every base, morning, noon and night.
My eyes were first alerted to this service in of all places, the desert. The Dakar Rally was recently held in the extreme dunes and sandy plains of Saudi Arabia where many an off-road bike, quad, car and truck competed in its Empty Quarters. Spaniard, Fernando Alonso who used to Continue reading “The Flying Nimbus”
Music and motorways are inexorably intertwined. Andrew Miles delves into the history of the Autobahn.
The exact location is unknown; it will be some thirty plus years ago. What is distinctly remembered was the jaw dropping, stop me in my tracks, overcome with tingling emotions tune.
The Model defines electronic purity. I had ‘found’ Kraftwerk and wanted to dig deeper. Hailing from Düsseldorf they, for me, embody a translucent melody, easy to follow and easy to dream along with. Music, as with cars, can be divisive: one man’s Moonlight Sonata can be another man’s PeetieWheatstraw or Bohemian Rhapsody. Many will dismiss Kraftwerk’s output as meaningless electronic beeps and bongs – to me it is highly orchestrated and simply defined.
And then I found another anthem. The piece of music known simply as Autobahn. “Fast up the autobahn” was what my ears heard. Years it took to realise “Wir fahren auf der Autobahn” was the line and not Fun up the Autobahn! Immediately connecting with tones of tyres on tarmac, the Doppler effect of passing traffic, the journey along to who knows where. At twenty two minutes long, you can Continue reading “We Drive Up The Autobahn”
In a Driven to Write first, we diverge into music critique. Japanese pop or Lebanese Blond? You decide.
Charlie Ghost and The Cakes of Boofe hope to storm the hit parade with their eloquently titled first album, Kettle Boiling. Being virtually unknown to the music industry with no gigs nor internet activity, their raucous blast fusing various musical themes, styles, instruments and presumably guilt free performances should see these surprisingly none too young expedites of tune propel at a rate of knots. That, or flounder like a fish gasping for air.
With such enforced secrecy, getting a handle on this outfit is hard; no photos, no social media just this, rather flippant message from the record label, Convenient Subsidence stating “A red notice to the world” – so let’s Continue reading “Album Review”
A famous footballer, a composer and musician and one shared passion. Andrew Miles delves into the mystic.
Predominantly, this site is for the automotive enthusiast. But with that enthusiasm comes other tangents, arguably tenuous but wholly relevant. To that end, we today delve into the worlds of football and music. One particular patrician of the game is no longer with us but still commands respect and admiration. The music side is dealt with through the medium best known as Jazz.
Johan Cruyff was born in Holland in 1947 near to the Ajax football stadium. Fear not dear reader, we are not striking any further into his on-pitch antics or managerial career. Benjamin Herman was born in London in 1968 though raised in Holland from an early age. What connects these two apart from the Dutch references? Please, Continue reading “Forward Orange”
The motorsport season doesn’t necessarily end when the mercury drops. Not in some places at least.
Get that Foreigner song out of your head immediately; this setting has far less cheese and way more cool, in terms of both occurrence on track as well as rather low temperatures usually due to being held 2,000 metres up an Alp. This is the e-Andros Trophy, a fully sideways, ice-crystalled love affair that’s now into its thirtieth year. And now it’s gone all modern, bidden au revoir to the combustion engine along with a big Bonjour! to electric power and some French stars of motorsport.
A potted history for you. Frédéric Gervoson and Max Mamers were friends sharing tastes and values; those of competition, friendliness, loyalty and racing cars. Classing themselves as (Mamers), “a sports entrepreneur” and (Gervoson) as an “entrepreneurial sportsman”, they collected up some interested parties to Continue reading “As Cold As Ice”
If this sounds too shady for you, best head to Practical Housekeeping, pronto. This is very blue.
Skilfully avoiding the TV new years sales adverts by heading for the internet, I found a Chevrolet Bel Air for sale. The price and to be honest the car, were immaterial; the colour on the other hand had me transfixed. What turned out to be called Larkspur Blue led me to Continue reading “Fifty Shades Today”
A recent piece of mine mentioned Škoda having a sense of fun with their ghost car prototype from their EGV department. Then I found this. Škoda does have an odd way of giving names to their vehicles; the journalists of the car world (and occasionally those outside it) make mirth mightily with these monikers. There’s no point in naming these magazines or authors as we try to avoid such trivia at Driven to Write. My position is to Continue reading “Yellow Car-ster”
Armed with only a bun for sustenance, Andrew Miles indulges in a spot of colour watching. His observations are below.
The supermarket can be an eminently dissonant place. A necessary evil; something of an endurance. But all is not lost, for as our usual café haunt was closed for refurbishment and as we had to visit the supermarket, we decided to invest in their facilities before commencing the weekly event of overfilling a metal trolley.
Luckily, this branch of J. Sainsbury’s is placed on stilts, so one parks underneath and the travellator moves you upwards bypassing the café which swiftly became my haven and inspiration for this little observation.
Motor racing is coming to Newcastle, courtesy of a former driver and the entrepreneurial spirit of a local lad made good.
At exactly 7kms, the track resembles Spa-Francorchamps and contains elevations and sinuous curves inspired by famous tracks the world over. Totally unlike Spa, Geordie Raceway is devoid of trees. Or indeed much else for this track is to be built on the former Prudhoe muck stacks of yore. Questions there are many.
I like Christmas. Well, as much as I like breathing, it kind of happens and is all over if you blink after one too many sherries. Which I fully plan to enjoy. But the dismal commercial cash in grates heavily with me. Bored out of my brain with our latest shopping dash for something or other, (not nutmeg for once) my eyes searched for something which would allow me to Continue reading “Dog’s Life”
A peek under the cover at Mladá Boleslav’s design process.
Car companies are rarely known for the philanthropy, charity work or comedy. Surely those who work within must see forms of any (or hopefully all) of these at some point. Making cars though is a serious business; livelihoods and reputations are at stake and those stakes are high. Thank goodness then for a small window opening into what is normally the most secretive of worlds – that of the prototype.
Former Škoda designer, Jozef Kabaň has been in the news of late, but what of his successor at Mladá Boleslav?
It’s two years since Jozef Kabaň left Škoda to be subsumed into the shadows at Rolls Royce (will we see or hear from him again? Well, yes as he’s now back with VW…) leaving the gap to be filled by German-born Oliver Stefani. In that time, he’s had plenty to get stuck into, Škoda Auto A.S. becoming rather prolific in pumping out model after model and whilst Kabaň’s input is obviously still there, Stefani’s style is now beginning to Continue reading “Škoda by Stefani”
Concluding our trip to the West coast, we return, demob happy to the Vulcan story.
The rather sinister sounding (to me) C.B. Wardman took over reins of a changed name again: Vulcan Motor Engineering, and at the close of hostilities bought a football club. Thus Southport Vulcan entered the football league as the first sponsored club. This was yet another short lived affair as the Football Association banned the club because of that very sponsorship; Southport FC returned.
Speaking of returns, cars as well as commercial vehicles were built once again but in 1919 under a different guise, that of a consortium of manufacturers under the title British Motor Trading Corporation with Harper Bean being the majority shareholder. The plan was for the Vulcan side to Continue reading “The God of Fire at the Seaside (3)”
In this second instalment, we turn to the story of Vulcan.
At a similar time to Lea, the Hampson brothers, Thomas and Joseph were setting up their business just East of Liverpool in the town of Wigan. Young Thomas was a keen pupil at Bolton Technical college in the late nineteenth century. Both brothers were mad for motoring; an article from the Wigan Reporter dated September 1899 stating that Joseph had been fined 40 shillings for “driving a motor car to the danger of passengers!” Sadly it is not stated as to what vehicle he was driving nor what happened to his passengers.
Walking the lesser trod pathways of the UK motor industry, so you don’t have to, Andrew Miles profiles pioneering Liverpudlians, Lea and Vulcan.
The English Northwest is more associated with other kinds of industry. Mills for cloth, wool, but pioneering car factories? Like many others in the Victorian era, Liverpool, long known as a port and Southport a seaside resort, prospered. This being DTW, we’re not here for fish, chips, the Beatles or a stroll along the pier; Southport (and its environs) had a car production past.
William Lea was an early adopter of the motor car. Born in Cheshire in 1845, he moved to Liverpool in his early twenties and over his 77 years, had eleven children to three wives. Making his money through the sale of musical instruments with his Pianoforte and Organ Warehouse in Liverpool centre (not as unusual a starting point for a career in the motor business as one might otherwise imagine), his focus was always on satisfying the customer. Continue reading “The God of Fire at the Seaside (1)”
Great news everyone; it’s pantomime season and who better to kick off this most joyous of entertainments than Tesla?
I’m sorry to sound rather curmudgeonly. I actually like pantomime. It’s as much for the adults as the kids with a little innuendo, some (not so) subtle jokes and plenty of genuine laughs. As for the season, well, the curmudgeon levels within me-rise. As age creeps ever on I see less appeal in Christmas and more irritation.
All through the year, we get dragged into things we don’t wish to deal with yet somehow in December, everything has to be completed before the 25th, as though the world may Continue reading “He’s Behind You!”