01x05 - Morroccan Roll: Rotterdam, Netherlands

[bunniefuu]

Hello, everybody.

Hello. Thank you.

Hello.

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Hello, everybody. Welcome to the Grand Tour, which, this week, comes from the Netherlands.

We're setting something of a record, actually, cos we are the first three British men ever to come here for a weekend and not vomit on a prost*tute.

Actually, we love coming to Holland.

James for his... for his own reasons.

And I like it because the Dutch are officially the tallest people on earth.

It's true. True fact.

Yes, and I hate it here.

I'm sick of...

I'm sick of staring at belly buttons all day.

The only problem I do have here is that I'm not allowed to use the word "swaffelen".

Yeah.

Well, you just did, didn't you?

No, the thing is, OK, it is a really bad word here, and I have no idea why.

What does it mean?

It means...

It means to bang your gentleman sausage... on the side of the Taj Mahal.

Oh, God!

Anyway, listen. Erm...

We're in Rotterdam, which is a marvellous city, in fact, because you aren't allowed to bring a car into the city - a petrol car - if it was built before 1992.

You aren't allowed to bring a diesel car into the city if it was built before 2000, which means you're never held up by poor people.

Really?

What else can we say about the Dutch?

Oh, of course, you gave the world speed cameras.

Oh, yeah.

So thank you very much for that.

Thank you.

No, actually, I'd far rather be pulled over by the actual Dutch police rather than a speed camera, cos, boy, oh, boy, do these guys look good.

We've got a picture here.

Whoa!

I would very much like to see a lady policeman in an outfit like that.

It looks like the guy on the right already has.

Shall we get on with the show... man?

Yes, good idea. Er...

And coming up in our programme about cars this week...

I try to pull a camel.

Come on. Come on.

A donkey pulls James.

And Richard gets stuck in a cow orgy.

I-I really am alarmed.

But first, there's been a bit of an argument in the office between these two.

You see, Richard maintains that the Mazda MX-5 is all the sports car you would ever need.

Because it is.

Mm-hm. But James says it isn't.

Because it isn't.

So we decided they should sort it out by going to the obvious proving ground for all sports cars: North Africa.

This is it, the latest version of the bestselling two-seater roadster of all time.

And it's easy to see why.

Peppy little engine at the front, two seats in the open air in the middle, rearwheel drive.

It's the perfect sports-car recipe.

But layered on top of that in this new version you get air conditioning, heated seats, lane-departure assist, cruise control, rain-sensing wipers, dusk-sensing headlamps.

You just can't do any better.

Well, you can, actually, because all of those luxury items you're mentioning now, they just add weight, and they mean it isn't a true sports car any more.

Yes, it is.

No, it isn't.

Colin Chapman, he was the bloke who founded Lotus, he said the ethos of a sports car is simplify and add lightness.

He didn't say you simplify and add electric windows.

Yep, and then he gave all his money away to a drug dealer called John DeLorean.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what it's actually about.

This is called the Zenos.

You get four wheels, you get somewhere to sit, an engine, and that's it.

It's a sports car.

Yeah. What do you do if it rains?

Well, you'd get wet.

What if you want to listen to the radio?

Why would I want to listen to the radio around here?

Does it have a heater?

No.

Has it got windows?

Look, if you buy a football boot, you don't expect it to be usable as a ballet shoe, do you?

But Mazda has invented a football boot that you can wear to the opera.

Look, I can guarantee that if you wear that shoe to the opera house...

At this point, the director said he'd heard enough about shoes for one day... and told us to go for a drive.

Right, now I'm away from Hammond's luxury sports car resort, let me tell you a little bit about this remarkable car.

It's powered by the 2L turbocharged engine from the Ford Focus ST, giving 250 horsepower.

That's mounted in the middle, right behind my head there, driving the rear wheels through a no-nonsense, old-school six-speed gearbox.

Now, 250 horsepower doesn't sound like a huge amount in the modern world, but this car, made with an aluminium spine and composite tub, and all the rest of it, weighs less than three quarters of a tonne, so it is genuinely quick.

Look... Whoa!

Yeah!

It makes the noise of some futuristic propulsion system powered by antimatter.

Yes! Electrifying!

James comes from a world where he wants his phone and his camera separate.

"I like a paper diary."

This Mazda is a smartphone. It does everything.

It looks brilliant, it will be endlessly reliable, it's fast, it's got speakers in the headrests, and it handles well.

And you can get an MX-5 from £18,500.

James's car starts at £33,000, and you don't even get doors!

My shed has got doors.

I furnish my cats with doors.

You need doors.

I bet he's being shaken to death in that thing.

I bet Hammond thinks I'm being shaken to death in here, but actually he's wrong, because this isn't like a BAC Mono or a Radical.

It is obviously very much a car for taking on the track, but it's been tuned for road use.

It's quite supple.

See? Look.

Bump. It's all right.

I'm very relaxed.

Eventually, we pulled over for a cup of coffee and a bit more arguing about doors.

Just because they had them in the 12th century on cathedrals, whatever, you don't need them now.

Don't be a sl*ve to convention.

But people had eyelids in the 12th century, and nobody's deciding, "Let's get rid of those, they're old hat."

"Oh, no! I've got dust in my eyes and I can't sleep."

That's completely facile, Hammond. You know exactly what I mean.

The door... I mean, Riva speedboats don't have doors.

You don't say...

This is lovely, isn't it?

What are you doing here?

Well, word reached me that you two were talking rubbish.

What do you mean, "rubbish"?

Well, if you want the best sports car, you don't want a Mazda or a Zenos. You want--

Oh, God. He's brought an Alfa Romeo.

Yes, of course I have.

Alfa Romeo 4C Spider.

This is what I'm talking about.

A symphony in carbon fibre.

Balance personified.

The Graduate updated.

A mini Ferrari, as cute as a bunny rabbit, with the greatest badge in the history of mo--

How much is it?

You know perfectly well how much it is.

Yeah, we've forgotten.

Money is vulgar.

You can't put a price on something as exquisite as that.

Yeah, but Alfa Romeo did put a price on it, didn't they?

And what was it?

Sixty thousand pounds.

So you could have both of our cars and everything in the back of sh*t for the price of one of these Alfa Romeos?

I know, it is extraordinary value for money.

It's too far from outside to inside.

It's miles!

Yes, thick sills...

Here we go.

...for strength.

Look at this, rotary heater knobs.

It's like being in the 1970s.

Yeah, it is, actually.

This handbrake, look at that.

Is that fixed on or does that come off?

Alfa Romeo, purveyors of disappointment for nearly three decades.

Look at this. Classy.

Yeah. Feel the quality in that. Let me feel that.

Mm. Sixty thousand pounds?!

Mm. And this...

That's what you want to hear.

If you ever buy a new item of clothing, never show it these two.

"What are you wearing that jacket for? It makes you look like a German gameshow host."

That's satisfying.

Why are you wearing that jacket?

Because I was at a party in India last night, and I've hurried over here.

Why did you go to the party dressed as a German gameshow host?

Soon, I grew weary of their abuse and set off in what, be in no doubt, is my favourite car on sale today.

I will admit, there are one or two tiny little problems with the 4C.

Trivial stuff.

It's very wide. The gearbox is a little bit dim-witted.

If you fit sports exhausts, the noise is catastrophic.

The petrol t*nk... yeah, that's too small.

You've really only got a range of 300... yards.

And then there's the steering.

There's no power assistance, so it's incredibly heavy when you're parking, there's no feel when you're on the move.

And then, and this is its party piece, just occasionally, it'll go violently left or right for no reason.

Whoa! You see that?

Bloody hell.

But look at it this way, we could all probably find fault with our children, and yet... we still love them.

Jeremy loves Alfa Romeos because, back in the old days, they were great... but they're not any more.

Plenty of things were great.

Greece.

Rolf Harris.

You can't love them now.

Another small problem with the Alfa that I didn't mention earlier is that you get cramp after five minutes.

Ooh! Arg!

I'm gonna have to stop and go for a walk, and they'll want to know why, and I'll have to tell them I need a wee or something.

No, diarrhoea.

Sorry, I've got to stop. I've got to stop.

I'm just stopping for a minute here. Hang on.

Why are you stopping for a minute?

Ohhh! Nothing.

Well, why are you hopping about?

Look at the snowy mountains.

You are welcome to Morocco.

Ah, merci, monsieur. Comment ça va?

God above.

Have you got cramp?

No.

Yes, you have.

Right, good. Well, I've seen the view.

I just wanted to see the view, and it's lovely.

Back on the road, James suddenly delivered a very un-James-manlike observation.

My car is seriously quick!

It's not as fast as this.

Yeah, I bet it is.

James, this has a turbocharged 1750cc engine from a Fiat Punto.

Mine's 2L with a twin-scroll turbocharger.

Have you noticed Hammond is being strangely quiet on the subject of speed?

Oh, just listening to you two bicker.

I am a bit down on power, if I'm honest.

I think Hammond's in a sort of retirement home for former distressed sports-car owners.

Right, next straight bit of road, James May, I will pull over and show you what real speed is.

Cows.

On a roof rack. I've never seen that.

Soon, we found a suitable stretch of road... and Hammond agreed to be the starter.

I've got launch control.

Not interested.

Are you ready? Before anyone comes.

In three, two, one, go!

Well, now, that's just impossible!

It's the Zenos... which means James May has just won a drag race.

But for me, that wasn't the biggest surprise.

I don't understand why this lost, because instead of a conventional chassis, it has a carbon-fibre tub, like you get in a Formula One car or a McLaren P1.

And a carbon-fibre tub makes a car... expensive, but light.

Very light.

I'm trying to work out why I lost that race.

I think it's cos your car isn't as fast as mine.

That was a factor.

Yeah, but mine is so light.

How do you know it's light?

Every time Alfa say how much it weighs, they give a different figure.

Yeah, that's because they've got better things to do than go around weighing cars.

When Picasso had finished one of his paintings, he didn't say, "Oh, I wonder how much that weighs."

You need to know the weight of an Alfa for when you resell it, because you buy scrap cars by weight.

With the Zenos, that was built in Norfolk, so obviously they're gonna weigh it - there's nothing else to do.

This is from Milan.

They finished making it, and then they went into town with one and pulled girls.

It's massive and it's made of pig iron, that's the problem.

I can see the carbon fibre...

The weight argument raged on for the rest of the journey.

So, that night, at the hotel, I came up with a plan.

I'm gonna weigh all three cars to prove the Alfa's the lightest.

The problem with your plan is that you'd need a weighbridge, and...

Yes.

Well, hang on.

Well, get one.

No, there isn't one.

I have got the hotel brochure here, actually, and, do you know, it's got three restaurants, a spa, and a gym, a business centre, tennis court.

Mm-hm.

But with one glaring omission.

What?

There's no weighbridge.

No!

They haven't thought of that. I'd knock a star off.

I shall build one.

I shall build a weighbridge, and then you shall see.

I will build a weighbridge.

That could have been a really useful and interesting test, and you've ruined it.

People are interested in Alfa Romeos!

People are interested in murders, they don't want to see one.

Anyway, anyway, we'll have more of that later on, but first, it is now time for us to engage reverse and park neatly in a marked space on Conversation Street.

Right, now, which nation on earth has the worst police cars?

Oh, that's some good conversation. I like that one.

The worst police cars, it's definitely not the Americans, is it, because they have those Crown Vics, and they're rearwheel drive V8s.

That's what you need.

They're good police cars. Not the Americans.

Erm...

It's us. It's the British.

Yeah. We have those dreary little Vauxhall diesel Astras.

Opels if you live here.

Or, if you're in America, those miserable little Chevrolets that are actually Daewoos. It's awful.

Most countries around the world would traditionally have always had a police car that was made there, one of their own cars. Wouldn't they?

And the funny thing is, that's not what they used to do here.

In Holland?

No.

You don't surprise me.

What they actually had for many years, about 30 years, was Porsches.

What?

The police used Porsches, yeah. Remember? Yeah.

Do you know, I'd forgotten. You're right, they did.

They did.

How did they persuade the government?

It's masterful. It's genius.

Absolute respect to everybody who did it.

What they did was say, "Right, we need... Hm. I think we need a Porsche because it's air-cooled and the engine is at the back, and that would be handy if we have to reverse at high speed for a long time."

They actually said that?

They did. And this gets better.

And I'm not making this up. They did say this.

They need a car where you can remove the roof so you can stand on the seats to address traffic in an emergency situation.

So what they need is a 911 Targa, and matching sunglasses, I presume, yes.

Did they also say, "And it comes with 911 on the back which is our telephone number"?

The thing is, it doesn't, and they're still at it, because the cycle cops around here, and there's a lot of them, they managed to persuade the government that they need mountain bikes.

What, here?

In Holland.

It's the flattest country on earth and they need mountain bikes!

"Yes, I might see a mountain." What?!

The best thing...

The best thing is, it gives us an opportunity to have one more look at a photograph of the Dutch mountain cop police.

There they are.

Now, I want to talk about otters.

What?

I want to talk about otters.

You see, a few years ago somebody in Holland worked out that there were only 185 otters in the entire country.

Yeah, Jeremy, it's a car show.

Bear with me, OK, because I've got the figures here.

In 2014, 21 of these otters were run over.

OK? In 2015, 49 were run over.

You only have 185 otters in the whole country, and in two years, you've flattened 70 of them under your cars.

What is your problem with otters?!

The thing is that I don't want people to get the wrong impression.

I don't want everyone to think that Dutch people go around murdering animals.

Let me explain.

Recently, the government here spent 150,000 euros, and that's £150,000, £160,000, £170,000...

That's Brexit for you.

We can't even afford to put mayonnaise on our chips now any more.

Er... Anyway, they spent 150,000 euros on a bridge over a road so squirrels could cross safely.

We've got a picture of the bridge. It's a substantial thing.

You know this bridge? A famous bridge?

That's a squirrel bridge?

Yeah, it's a squirrel bridge.

Anyway, how many squirrels do you think have used it?

A squillion.

I see where you're going with that one, James. No, it isn't.

I've got the figures here.

"CCTV footage has revealed, in 2014, three squirrels used it.

In 2015, it was used only twice."

Well, why didn't the third squirrel use it again in 2015?

It probably got run over.

Yeah.

By somebody mistaking him for an otter.

Get it! Get it!

Now... Er...

You've probably read the other day, the Dutch are taking a view on whether to allow people to...

How can I put this? Assisted dying of somebody - feels as though their life is complete, OK?

This is something that occupies me a lot, I'll be honest with you, because I sometimes think...

"Oh, have I done enough now?"

Yes.

No.

No, you know, when?

When would it be appropriate for me to think, "Time to end."

Now.

No.

May I get on with it?

Yeah, do. Do it now.

No, what I want to say is, OK...

I'll get the forms, there can't be many.

The time comes... Ssh!

The time, I think, comes when you stop wanting to be an idiot.

That's the time when you've done enough.

I know what you mean.

No, actually, you are right, cos I think it's the moment where you go into a big department store, and you go into the kitchenware section, and you see a tea cosy, but you don't put it on your head.

Exactly.

Not putting things on your head is a sign it's time.

And the time you don't want to put gloves on your ears and pretend to be a reindeer.

I think that's just you, Hammond.

It's just me, isn't it?

Here's the moment I think you know.

You're driving up a motorway. There's a train track next to you.

A train comes. It could be one of those fast ones.

The day when you don't try and race the train, that's the day.

Yes.

I have to race the train.

I have to go faster than the train so everyone on the train looks at me and goes, "I've made the wrong travel choice. I should have gone in the car. It's quicker."

If you're ever on a train and you look out of the window, you're overtaking me and I can't be bothered to race you, it's because I'm on my way to the new Dutch death clinic.

And that is the end of Conversation Street.

Now, if you have children, there's every chance they'll spend every spare second they have playing Zombie Splatter 7 , or some other such computer game, but what about more traditional board games?

Kids these days say they're not interested in such games, but I believe they would be if they were bigger and involved cars.

To prove our point, we've come here, to the countryside.

And on the board-game front, we shall start with a classic.

A game where two players try and guess where each other's ships are, and then blow them up by f*ring missiles at them.

It's a simple game, and, as such, if you want to play it with cars, you don't need much.

In fact, all you need is a massive former Cold w*r airfield with enough tarmac to accommodate the board for your board game.

With a big enough slab of airfield, you can then lay out your grid, onto which you can place your battleships.

And all you need for that is several thousand pounds' worth of old cars.

But not any old cars.

This stretch limo, for example, may have seen active service on hundreds of hen nights, but it makes the perfect aircraft carrier.

And then there's this Toyota Prius.

Its electric engine makes it perfect as a submarine, silent running.

And then there's this Chrysler PT Cruiser convertible.

There is no naval equivalent for this car, but who cares if we blow it up?

Because it is, after all, crap.

And speaking of blowing up, we now come to the missiles.

For these, you need a car that is frightening and lethal.

A car that strikes fear into other motorists.

And what better car could there be for this job than the magnificent G-Wiz?

All I needed now was an opponent, a board-game veteran, a man who thinks Call Of Duty is a visit to the lavatory.

That's excellent, Hammond. You've thought of everything.

I know, I have. Containers as the fence.

A fireman, in case things get out of hand.

A health-and-safety bloke to stop us blowing ourselves up.

Cars that look exactly like ships. The lot.

But how will you fire the missiles at the cars?

Well, that is the real genius in my plan.

Easy, powerful and proven.

Fire the G-Wiz missiles with the movie cannon.

You reckon that's accurate enough?

Well, it's a cannon.

But you've got to hit a specific square.

You aim the cannon. You adjust the trajectory and the elevation.

You can work that out?

It's a cannon.

To shut James up, I took one of the spare cars to demonstrate a practice sh*t.

Right, we're all set.

It's fully charged. Pressure's good. Fire.

I had a better idea for the weapons-launching system.

So, there you go.

You call out the grid reference that you want, and the driver just manoeuvres the jib exactly over that square, and then drops the G-Wiz m*ssile.

It is absolutely unerringly accurate.

I like that.

Unlike everything else I've done here, with all this stuff, this is all things you can do at home in your garden.

With the giant containers making sure neither of us could see what the other was doing, James and I moved our battleships into place.

And with the board laid out, it was time to play.

Right, the hen-night limos each require two hits to be sunk.

Both the motorhomes, they each require two hits to be sunk as well.

And then my Prius and your PT Cruiser, they each require one to be sunk.

We've got ten G-Wiz missiles each.

Five hits needed to win. Got it?

Yes, right.

Having won the toss, James would be first to fire, but I had a cunning plan to thwart him.

What I've done is put a couple of my ships right out on the edges, because James will think, "Hammond's a bit thick, and it's a typically amateurish tactic to put your ships on the edge, so that's what he'll have done."

But then he'll think, "Hang on. Even Hammond's not that thick. He just wants me to think he's thick, so he'll have put his cars in the middle."

James will then not go for the edges, he'll go for the middle.

But my ships will be at the edges.

It's like a... double, or even a triple bluff.

Now, Hammond is a bit thick, really, so I reckon he'll have put his all around the edges.

D2, please.

Fire!

What was that?

It was my limo.

Hit on your limo on D2, thank you. Your sh*t.

Red crane driver, I'd like C4, please. C4.

Fire!

That's a miss.

C4, miss.

Back to my original theory.

Hammond will have gone along the edge, I'm pretty confident in that.

So is it there, or is it there?

Green crane driver, fire at D1.

Fire!

Yes!

You sank my limousine!

One sinking to me, a miss for Admiral Hammond.

And you've overdone the expl*sives.

One plan would be, if you're playing this at home, do it on a day when there's a lot of barbecues in the area.

That way, people will just think, "Well, yeah, it's a big barbecue they're having next door."

With my aircraft carrier gone and James's fleet unscathed, I had to break my duck.

I'd like you to hit B2, please.

Damn!

B2. Well... Well, there's no... Where are they?!

I've just got a feeling.

B1. B1, please.

Red crane driver, can I have square A1?

Fire!

Oooh! Ooh-hoo-hoo!

Yes! Come on!

Oh, you are on the run! That is it! Want to give up?

You've sunk my Cruiser.

So that's a big red k*ll on A1. Boom!

But James wasn't taking this lying down.

C3. Fire!

Yes!

You hit my submarine, my invisible, silent-running Prius.

I am losing badly.

I've scored only one hit, he's scored three.

But then the game started to turn, as James had a run of three straight misses.

Fire!

It was a miss! Ha-ha!

Thank you. I'm closing down my options.

It would close your options down further if you were to hit rather than miss.

Which was exactly what I was now doing.

B3, please.

A3, please.

Yes!

You've sunk my battleship.

I am raining down destruction on your dwindling fleet of doomed ships.

You loser. Ha-ha!

No, I'm not losing. We're neck and neck.

Annoyingly, James was right.

I still had my battleship Winnebago, and he still had his stretched aircraft carrier, both of which needed two hits to destroy.

It was May's turn to play.

B2.

Critical stage of the game now.

A hit now and I'm in trouble.

Fire!

Come on.

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

It shouldn't feel so good, but it does.

Oh.

It's gonna be here.

Red crane, target C1, please. C1.

Fire!

Hard luck, Horatio Hammond.

All I've got to do now, get inside Richard Hammond's mind.

An awful place, admittedly, but if I can just get in there for a second, which way has he put it?

There and there; there and there; there and there?

C2.

Fire!

That'll be a miss.

That, Captain May, was a miss!

However, while James now had to choose between just two squares, I was looking at a choice of six.

Red crane, target C2, please. C2.

Red crane, fire!

I meant C3! I meant...

Yes!

Oh, yes! Yes!

Bollocks.

That mistaken sh*t wasn't just a hit, it had changed everything.

Because I said C2, when actually I meant three, in case it was there, that's a k*ll - bang - which means it has to be there.

It can't be here or here, so I've got him.

James, you do know what that means, don't you?

Yes, I've just worked it out.

I've got to get this right, otherwise you've won.

Do you want to surrender?

No, I don't!

So, I was now faced with the choice that would decide the game.

A2 or B3?

A2, B3. What would Richard Hammond do?

Green-crane driver...

Oh, God.

Come on, you bewildered old spaniel - miss.

Right. Fire!

Yes! Yes!

Ha-ha!

Oh, God!

Ha-ha-ha!

Yes!

Hammond!

Best of three?

I bet... I bet the makers of Sony PlayStation are quaking in their boots.

Well, I wouldn't be surprised.

They will go, "Oh, my..."

I know. There's the future.

That was a total waste of time.

Well, now, hang on.

No, we destroyed a PT Cruiser, a Prius and many G-Wizs.

Well, that's true, yes. But James...

James?

Never mind. Let's move on to Celebrity Brain Crash.

Yeah. Now...

This week...

This week, we don't just have one star, we have several.

They're one of the biggest bands ever to come out of Holland, and they're going to begin here, in the sixth largest port in the world... by performing their biggest hit, by which I mean... their hit.

Ladies and gentlemen, Golden Earring!

And there they are.

I tell you what, we ought to make the lights go a bit better.

Can we dim the lights? That's better. A bit more rock 'n' roll.

What is their hit?

Well, this is Holland, birthplace of the speed camera.

It's obvious. Radar Love.

Oh...

OK, ladies and gentlemen, erm... there's a cable's gone into the sea here, and... Golden Earring have been electrocuted.

Does that mean they're not coming on, then?

Well, James, they've been subjected to a lethal dose of electricity and are now lying on the ground, sizzling, so it's no.

They're not, no.

OK, OK.

That is a very grisly scene. I apologise for that, everybody.

Erm... Probably not as grisly, though, as if you're looking at us from out there.

Eh?

Well, think about it.

Oh, yeah!

Yeah.

We are standing in a window in a Dutch port, bathed in red light... and we've got no trade lining up.

Nobody's here.

No.

No, I know! I know! I've had an idea.

I've had an idea of how we can fill the time that would have been taken up by the late Golden Earring.

You see, the thing is...

Can we make the lights go white again now? Pretend that never happened.

Good. See, the thing is that, in Holland, there are these motorist accessory stores, OK?

Oh, yeah.

They're open all night. The place is full.

We went to one last night and bought a load of amazing stuff you can use on the road.

Bring it over here. Let's show you a couple of things, I mean, this, for example.

It's an incredible safety device.

Yeah.

This is very clever, because in a lot of car crashes, people bite their tongues, sometimes off.

But by wearing this neat safety device, no way is he biting his tongue.

Look at that! Perfectly safe. That is clever.

Unbelievable. And then you can get traffic cones that fit in the glovebox.

This is one here.

Yeah.

It's not funny stuff, this is safety material.

Another one.

These are compact, so you can fit them in your boot.

The thing is, though, OK, in America, as I'm sure you know, there are high-occupancy vehicle lanes.

Er... You're not allowed to go in them unless you've got two or more people in the car.

We've always been very worried in Europe that this idea is gonna come over here, but the Dutch have it covered, because in these motorist accessory shops, you can buy inflatable people.

We've got one here.

Very clever, this. Very clever.

Isn't it?

The only slight issue is they do take a lot of effort to blow up.

It's hard work doing.

It doesn't matter, though, because here's the thing.

OK, if you arrive at one of those high-occupancy vehicle lanes, then you pull over on the hard shoulder - just pass the Dutchie on the left-hand side here - and then use your engine to blow up your inflatable person.

So I'm going to do that now, just to show you how unbelievably easy this is.

Are we ready?

I'll just er... put a bit of fuel in there.

And here we go.

Why have you put your fingers in your ears? It's only a V8.

It's virtually silent.

Here we go.

Behold.

What the...?

Right, the erm...

The inflatable person has split. There's--

Oh, dear.

Mine's all right.

Let's move on, shall we? Tonight we are in Morocco, for what was supposed to be a sensible sports-car test of my Mazda MX-5 versus Bob Marley's Norfolk-built Zenos.

Unfortunately, the ape turned up, uninvited, in a ridiculously expensive Alfa Romeo.

Yes, I did.

And when we left the action, I decided to see which of the cars was the lightest by building some rudimentary scales - a job that these two thought would be... beyond me.

Despite the cynicism of my colleagues, the next morning, my scales were ready.

Wow.

Yeah.

Even more startling was Jeremy's choice of counterweight.

How are you gonna get it on there?

It's gonna jump.

Oh, yeah, they're big jumpers, cows.

Look, it wants to.

He's limbering up, he's getting ready, you can tell.

Up you come.

It's not gonna jump. They can't jump.

Up you come.

On the off chance that this isn't a jumping cow, which it might not be, I think you need a ramp.

You hold that. I shall go and make a ramp.

Hello. Hello.

Hello, nice cow.

Oh, it's bonded with you, Jeremy. It's bonded.

Soon, without any help at all, I had fashioned a makeshift ramp.

Very good. Well done.

That was quick and effective.

Unfortunately, the cow had wandered off, so I had to draft in a substitute.

Go on, camel.

Come on, camel.

Come on.

Come on, camel. Come on.

Come on. Come on.

He's not gonna go on.

Up you come. Come on.

Come on. Can you push him? Oh, no.

Not really, cos they kick your balls off if you do that. Let me...

David Attenborough has never said that.

Eventually, I had some success.

This is good. We are getting there.

We are building up a big Christmas dinner.

And then the original cow came back.

Come on.

Dr Thinklittle.

Come on. Come on. My camel's going over here.

Good cow.

Tragically, however... it's not enough.

Could you go and get another cow?

Come on, small cow.

He's on. Right, excellent.

Good, good, good.

Jeremy?

Yes?

This is far...

Oh, my God!

I don't want to be here for this!

I'm on some scales. Its carrot's come out.

Are they both boy cows?

Yeah, they're both boys.

Yeah. Oh, no. This is quite bad.

I'm... Yeah.

I really am alarmed.

I'm stuck on a p*rn set.

Am I part of this? Is this a threesome?

He's trod on a turk... No, he hasn't.

More importantly, the whole cast of our p*rn film still weighed less than the Mazda.

Chickens. Hello, chickies.

It's not enough, is it?

No.

It doesn't make... Jeremy, this is complete nonsense.

Cow sex! No!

Come on, we go. On you go.

I'm not convinced that this isn't...

Oh, the goat's escaped.

At this stage, we explained to Jeremy that animals cannot be used as counterweights.

Right, no, you may have a point.

I think it's better if I k*ll them.

What?

Well, if they're dead, they won't mind.

This plan made the job much easier.

Oh, hello!

My experiment has worked.

Wow! We have a figure.

For the record, it weighs two cows, two legs of cows - brackets, rear - one camel and three goats.

That's incredible!

The most exciting thing I've ever been involved in.

Having established the weight of the Mazda, it was time to do the Zenos.

Hammond, reverse off down my superb ramp.

Whoa! It's...

I'm gonna walk this way.

Why is it doing that? James counterbalances with you.

Hang on. That's not gone well.

Yeah, it has.

No, it's moved!

Oh, this is... Now the back wheels have come off!

Somebody get on! The whole crew!

What's happened?

Oh, God!

No, there's no point doing that, Hammond.

We need to think this through.

Hang on. I've got an idea.

If you get off there, this side will go up.

Then you put the ramp under the back wheels of the Mazda when it comes down again.

So you all need to get off.

Right, I'm off.

Hang on. Are you going up now?

I think so.

No, we need...

I know, everybody has to go there.

On that side. Yeah.

Everybody, all the crew.

All the chunkier lads, if you get on that one.

How did we get into this position?

Somebody pull on the front, just to tip it.

And then we will move this ramp.

Hello? Can we have all of...

He's down now!

Am I gonna die?

Am I dead? Am I dead?

Thanks to our fluent French, we were able to get the forklift driver to help us.

The Mazda...

Erm...

Reverse à vous la ramp, avec introduce la ramp... Yeah.

Then the authorities arrived.

Ah, les animaux?

Yes, les animaux.

Wait. Erm...

Is it a Problème?

James, it's not acceptable in Morocco to k*ll animals to establish the weight of a car, so...

It's not acceptable in Morocco?

Having established nothing at all, we were all ordered to leave, which made Hammond very cheesed off with me.

You're a bloody idiot!

Funny!

I think he's angry, isn't he?

And I wasn't in James's good books, either.

Clarkson!

What's the matter?

I want the steering wheel back, you muppet!

I haven't got it.

You have!

I haven't. One of those goats has got it.

Goats can't pick things up.

With his wheel retrieved, we set off.

And soon, James and I decided something needed to be done.

Jeremy, are you there?

Yes, I am.

Oh, good. Erm...

Look, just...

Er... Just bear with me, OK?

This isn't really working as well as we'd hoped at the moment, so we think it would be better if we went our own way and you went yours.

Are you in on this, James?

Well, the thing is that we had conceived quite an interesting test between an everyday sports car and a hardcore sports car.

And, I mean, it's not you.

But, I mean, really, it's the Alfa. The Alfa doesn't fit.

Right, well, OK. Erm...

I'll leave you two alone.

And I do mean alone, because... I'm going to take the film crews with me.

Now that we're alone, I could prattle on for hours about what the Alfa Romeo badge means, and how, with its carbon-fibre tub, this isn't really a sports car.

It's more a... scaled-down, cut-price LaFerrari.

But I've had a better idea.

What I did was find a wonderful piece of road... and then shut up, so the pictures could do the talking.

That's the thing about this Alfa - if you talk about it, you're gonna criticise it.

If you just look at it... you're gonna fall in love. Oh, hello.

Mate! Mate! Thank God you're here!

What's the matter with him?

Well, for the first time in my life, I'm rather glad you're here, because... he thinks he's discovered an ancient civilisation.

And he got very excited, and I couldn't say, "No, Hammond, it's not real."

It's a film set.

That is where they filmed Asterix And Obelix , and that is where they film Game Of Thrones .

Yeah, I know that, but he thinks it's real.

He thinks aliens have come down and that everything that universities in Britain know about Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, is all wrong.

Which feet last trod these steps?

Were they even human?

Maybe they were that big.

This was actually used in The Jewel Of The Nile .

Was it?

Yeah.

Starring Kathleen Turner, Michael Douglas, and, I think, Danny DeVito.

Hammond probably thinks that it's a spaceship.

That's how they got here.

It's like touching hands... across the millennia.

These were not primitive people.

While Indiana Hammond continued his deluded ramblings, I came up with an idea.

I tell you what this place has never been used as.

What?

A racetrack.

Having convinced Richard we wouldn't anger the sleeping gods, we made a circuit from the roads running through the studio lot.

And then I went off to get changed.

Wow! Hammond, Roger Moore isn't here.

No, he's not, is he? What is that?

It's my Alfa Romeo racing suit.

Is it?

Yes, it is. Look at that.

Oh!

Peacock lining.

That makes it better.

It's the d*ck from Del Monte.

The Cock from Del Monte.

The d*ck from Del Monte, he says, "Ra-ra-ra!"

In an Alfa Romeo--

This is tremendous!

In an Alfa Romeo... looking good is more important than looking where you're going.

That's a shame.

When are you gonna do that?

It was now time to get down to business.

But first, we went out for some sighting laps.

Whoa!

It's all skiddy!

Oh, this is very narrow.

James did this.

That's only an inch wider than my car, you stupid man!

But I'm in!

I'm into ancient Egypt!

Oh, wow! Look at that! Paintings and everything!

I'm gonna go around the unconvincing fighter jet.

Understeering like mad, that's not good. I must remember that.

The problem you have in the 4C is it's mid-engined, which means, on a surface like this, there's no weight over the front, and that means... no grip.

Unlike the other two, this is front-engined, so there's less weight on the back end, which would make for a livelier back end and more time enjoying oversteer.

Oh, I'm gonna spin!

That's bad! That's too much oversteer.

Game Of Thrones set.

I mustn't think about Khaleesi.

Oh, no! Thinking about Khaleesi, it's bad!

Don't think about Khaleesi!

No!

Holy crap!

It's a castle!

God, no! Nearly hit a bit of Nazareth then.

Jesus would have been displeased.

Having got to know our weird and demanding track, we began the timed laps, with James going first in his lightweight, powerful Norfolk-mobile.

Right, are we ready, James May?

In three, two, one... Begin!

Oh, where's the bend? I don't...

Oh, balls!

You know, what worries me most of all, is the poor little man who's mortgaged his house to start Zenos.

And that he's lent it to us on the television.

"And which one's driving it? Which...?"

"Oh, no."

Right, now what do I do?

After my first-corner cock-up, I was on the back foot, trying to make up time.

Heading for Nazareth, I think.

Whoa!

All over the place!

Round and round the thingy.

Whoa!

Fast, faster. Faster.

Well... this only goes up to 999 hours, sadly.

Right.

But it's OK, you were just in that time.

Yeah, mm.

James, did you manage to drive whilst dragging your face along the ground?

A lot of dust comes in.

Why don't you wind the windows up?

You're funny men.

Next, it was the turn of John Travolta.

Never has anybody looked quite so good... on a timed lap.

In three, two, one... Go!

Right, let's make this count.

Narrow!

Sideways in linen!

Game Of Thrones set.

Understeering...

Turn! Turn!

Come on, let's get that turbocharger singing!

k*ll it now!

Well, he arrived.

Finally, Sir John Blashford-Hammond.

Ready?

Yes.

In three, two, one... Go!

Right, this is it.

I can't afford a single error.

Uh-oh! This is a hot lap!

Here he comes.

Ooh!

No!

And with that, back to the tent.

Smashed it. Smashed it.

Hang on a minute.

What?

You know that Windmills Of Your Mind sequence in the car?

Yeah.

You made the Alfa look really good in that.

Yes.

What if somebody buys one?

You don't want that on your conscience.

What do you mean? It was a brilliant... What?

Anyway, anyway, I have the results here of the laps.

And er... well, in third place, you in the Zenos; second place, you in the Alfa; first place, the winner was me in the Mazda.

But it was a hollow victory, because I ruined an ancient piece of sculpture.

Yes, but here's the thing, OK?

After the weight test and the speed test we did, we've learned... nothing.

Yeah, it's nothing. Nothing at all.

Literally nothing at all.

And on that terrible disappointment, I'm afraid it's time to end.

Thank you so much for watching.

See you next week. Goodbye.

Goodbye!