POOR old Dacia. I’m sure it meant well with its latest online ad campaign, but from what I’ve seen it seems to have backfired a bit.
For those of you who haven’t seen it, there’s an ongoing campaign to promote the Sandero Stepway, a shortened version of which dripped into my Instagram feed the other night. It shows a group of lads gathered on a driveway around an immobile Ford Capri, before another chap – this time with a big smile – beckons you towards a shiny, fully-functioning piece of reasonably priced Romanian hatchback. The inference being that you can have a brand-new car, complete with three-year warranty, instead of Ford’s malfunctioning old one. So far, so good.
Except that not a single one of the comments underneath it seemed to agree. Once you’d got past the swearing the executive summary of just about everyone went something along the lines of; “Actually, chaps, we’d still rather have the Capri, even if it is a broken one. It’ll be worth more, too”. One of them was so offended he referred the manufacturer’s ad to the chaps at Classic Ford magazine.
I suspect that if Dacia had picked any old car there’d have been an outcry of some form – Richard Hammond’s decision to attack an Austin Allegro Estate with a crowbar on the last episode of The Grand Tour met with a similar response – but what it has done is shown just how much the Ford Capri is part of Britain’s national character. Picking on it was never going to be a smart move.
The Capri – which celebrates its 50th anniversary this year, incidentally – is one of those cars that has a UK following that borders on the fanatical. Even when it was still a current model in Ford’s range it was lapped up by us long after it had been deleted from other European markets, to the extent that all of the cars coming out of Ford’s Cologne factory headed straight over the North Sea to UK dealers. There are clubs and car shows across the UK dedicated to the car – and you can’t say that about the Sandero Stepway. What’s more, I reckon that while you can still (just about) buy a broken one for less than the cost of a new Dacia, you’d struggle to do the same with a working one, with a V6 version setting you back something in the region of £10,000, and the Tickford and Brooklands versions considerably more.
Why? Nostalgia. If you didn’t know someone who had a Capri back in the day, then you probably knew someone who lusted after one. With that pretty body draped over sturdy – if not exactly space age – Cortina mechanicals it made perfect sense, which is why it made regular appearances in the list of Britain’s best-selling cars throughout the Seventies and early Eighties.
I’m sure that, looking at logically, the Sandero Stepway is a better, safer, more reliable car that spends less time at the pumps and is easier to live with. But I know which I’d rather have.