London

Why I’m sad that the Manchester Classic Car Show is no more

IT’S the most wonderful time of the year. For wandering around exhibition halls looking at old cars, that is, because it’s too cold and miserable to be doing it outdoors.

The big one for anyone into Jaguar E-types, Triumph Stags and the like is the three-day show down at the NEC in Birmingham, but I’ve long advocated doing your homework, booking a budget flight and checking out the foreign ones, because there’s so many of them. A couple of years ago I had a great weekend wandering around Barcelona’s big classic show – and a bit of sightseeing, of course – because it was cheaper to hop on a big silver bird at John Lennon than it was to spend a weekend going to many of Britain’s bigger car shows. Paris’ Retromobile and the big German shows are just around the corner. Top tip if you’re looking for a Christmas present with a difference!

But I’m saddened this week that the North West’s entry in this big round-up of indoor shows is no more. Over the weekend the organisers of the Manchester Classic Car Show, held every September at Event City by the Trafford Centre, said it won’t be returning in 2019 due to rising costs. Or in “the foreseeable future” either, according to the organiser’s official statement. Which is a shame, because it was a proper, petrolhead day out that dialled down the hog roasts and live bands because it knew everyone wanted to look at Triumph Dolomites instead.

The frustrating thing was that, confronted with rising costs at Event City, the organisers had nowhere else to turn to, because no other venue in the North West can stage a big, indoor car show (neither Manchester Central nor the Echo Arena in Liverpool have that sort of floorspace, since you’re asking). Over in Germany virtually every city has a Messe – a trade fair, or in other words a massive indoor venue geared up to holding Crufts-sized mega-shows, so there are loads of options if you want to put on a car show. But in the UK you’ve got the NEC, ExCeL down in London’s Docklands, Event City – and that’s about it. Even rosy old Earl’s Court, which I loved going to as a kid, is under some swish new housing now.

Which is frustrating, because I know from the sheer volume of cars that turn up to the North West’s many outdoor shows that there’s an appetite for at least one decent indoor one, which we can all enjoy when it’s tipping it down with rain.

Maybe it’s time for a new venue altogether. Anyone got a disused aircraft hanger or an unfeasibly large warehouse going spare?

The new London taxi – probably the best car you’ll never drive

It might look traditional but the new black cab is very high tech

AWFULLY sorry, readers. I’ve quite openly failed this week to provide the sort of sensible consumer advice The Champion sticks up for – because the most eye-opening car I’ve driven in years is one which you’re unlikely to ever hop behind the wheel of.

Not that it’s some decadent chunk of carbon fibre supercar or a leather-lined saloon fit for the reserved spaces in the company, although it does cost £55,500 – about the same as a high-end E-Class or A6. In fact the reason why you’re unlikely to ever end up in the front seat is that the whole point is to experience it from the back – because it’s the new London taxi.

Apparently there are three LECV TXs plying their trade on Merseyside but the London Electric Vehicle Company – as the black cab’s makers are now officially known – is already ramping up production, so chances are that one will end up ferrying you home after last orders in the near future. Even if you’ve had an entire evening’s worth of real ale, the back’s a nice place to be, with a panoramic glass roof, in-built WiFi zone and a little gadget to accept contactless card payments without having to stretch towards the driver. It’s also the first black cab that allows wheelchair users to sit facing forward rather than sideways – the sort of stuff that matters when it’s a tenner a ride.

But it’s actually at the business end where things get really clever. The new arrival only weighs 100kg more than the outgoing TX4 black cab but it’s stuffed full of batteries and electric motors rather than a clunky old turbodiesel. It’ll glide about for 120 silent miles, so that any conversations you force on your passengers about how the country’s going to pot won’t be interrupted.

What about the chap in the suit who wants you to drive him to Leeds – and to hell with the cost? No problem – there’s a petrol-powered 1.5-litre engine for back-up, and although it sounds a bit like a very quiet air con unit when it kicks in it’ll still plod happily up the M62 at 70mph. You can also charge the batteries up to 80 per cent in just 25 minutes – and reassuringly, it still looks like a black cab.

Yet the reason why it’s such an eye-opener is because no car the size of a Range Rover Sport should have a turning circle that’d make a Smart owner jealous. You hop in and you have the sort of high-up driving position you’d expect from a Transit van, and yet everything feels light and effortless. It’s quiet, handles far better than anything its considerable size really ought to and the way the electric motor and petrol-back up works feels wonderfully natural. Get the hang of the engine braking and you can almost drive it using one pedal.

Back in the day you had to be either a fully-fledged cabbie or Stephen Fry to want to spend hours at a time driving a black cab. But even without a single fare to pick up I’d happily have the new one – it’s that good. That’s sensible consumer advice, surely?

Why the Range Rover SV Coupe proves that less is more when it comes to luxury cars

The SV Coupe revisits the idea of the original two-door Range Rover from the 1970s

FORGET everything you’ve ever learned about quality over quantity for a moment. When you wade into the world of the fabulously wealthy, less is usually a lot more.

The price you’d pay for a truly palatial pad in Kensington, Liverpool, for instance, would barely get you a one-bed flat in its London namesake. A main course at an upmarket restaurant in Marylebone or Mayfair costs more than I’d normally spend on a couple’s three-course night out in this part of the world. And don’t get me started on £6 pints.

It’s the same with cars too, as anyone who’s ever ordered a Porsche GT3 and traded rear seats for roll cages and stereos for stripped-back carbonfibre will know.

Which is why I have to admire Land Rover for unveiling its new, ultra-luxury spinoff of the Range Rover at the Geneva Motor Show last week. There’s lots of “contemporary design” and “up-to-the-minute technology” breaking up the slabs of wood and acres of leather you’d expect on the inside, and they are only building 999 of them, but what you can’t fail to notice is that for your £240,000 asking price you get two fewer doors. Automotive proof that less really is more in the world of cars, too.

What it does prove, however, is that if the money’s there then it’s not impossible to convert a five-door car into a three-door one; which makes me wonder why three-door cars much further down the pecking order are all being quietly killed off. The RenaultSport Clio – a car you’d expect to arrive sans rear doors, because that way the body’s stiffer – is now only available in five-door form, and it’s the same story with the Ford Focus, and the Honda Civic. Word has it that the three-door version of Audi’s A3 is being pensioned off, too. Which is a real shame, because for all the awkward fumbling you have with sliding seats forward and climbing through narrow gaps there is a youthful sense of fun about three-door hatches, and it’s sad to see it slowly disappearing.

The Peugeot 205 GTI just wouldn’t have had the same frisson of mischief had it been equipped with five doors, and nor would Renault’s Clio Williams or Citroen’s AX GT. They all had five-door cousins, of course, but it was worth eschewing the practicality for a stiffer bodyshell and cleaner looks. Surely if the argument works for the Range Rover all these years later – especially being positioned as a luxury spinoff – it’ll work for the next Ford Focus RS or Honda Civic Type-R, too?

It’s exactly the sort of petrolhead argument I’m hoping to win next time I visit the pub. Anyone got six quid they can lend me?