02x08 - Blasts from the past

[bunniefuu]

- Yes.
- Thank you.

Greetings. Thank you so much.

- Hello, everybody.
- Thank you.

Thank you.

Whoa! Hello. Thank you.

Thank you so much.

- Thank you, thank you, thank you.
- Thank you.

Thank you. Welcome.

And in this show, apart from James's
weird jacket and T-shirt combination...

- Nothing to be proud of, mate.
- No, it isn't.

...we have many other things besides.

James May changes gear.

Richard Hammond changes gear.

And I...

..change gear.

Thank you.

It's all very exciting.

But we start in the 1950s,
when James May was an old man.

Now, back then, Jaguar won Le
Mans three times with the D-Type.

And after they retired that from racing,

they decided to build
25 road-going versions of it,

which they called the XKSS.

We've got a photograph of one here.

Now, this was aimed
at wealthy young gentlemen

who wanted to spend the week
dashing around town

and then the weekend doing motor racing.

Steve McQueen had one,
and I think that says it all.

Unfortunately, in 1957 there was
a huge fire at the factory,

and nine of those 25 cars
were never made, until now.

Let me make one thing plain
right from the start -

this is not a replica XKSS
built from plastic,

this is an XKSS.

Built by Jaguar themselves over 10,000
painstaking hours, it's the real deal.

In fact, it's as real as the
real ones from way back when.

The chassis is made from a special
steel called Reynolds 531.

It's what they originally used to
build the World w*r II Spitfire.

And it's light - it only weighs 39kg.

And then there's the body.

The tooling and the technical drawings
were all destroyed in the fire,

so they had to scan
an original from 1957

and then work backwards
from that to make it,

in incredible detail,
right down to the rivets.

Every one, the number and
the position is as it was.

And there's over 2,000 of them.

But it was the engine
that was the trickiest bit.

The plans for that weren't
destroyed in the fire -

in fact, I've got a copy of them
here - but there was a page missing.

So they had to get an original engine

and saw it in half
to find out how it worked.

No-one has ever made
a car like this before.

It's a world first.

So it's small wonder it's priced
at just over one million pounds.

Or, for half a million pounds more,

you can have one of these!

It's an Aston Martin DB4 GT Lightweight.

And back in the late '50s, it was
the fastest car in the world.

Flat out, it would do 151mph.

But this is not from the late '50s.

Despite what you might think when
you look at its period dashboard

and its period six-cylinder
twin-spark engine,

it was actually built a few weeks ago.

So, like Hammond's Jag,

it's an old car that's
brand-spanking-new.

- So did these two ever race against each other in period?
- No, they did! They did!

May, 1960, I was a month old...

- I was ten years off being born, mate.
- Yeah, whatever.

- Picture of it here, look.
- Oh, look! There they are!

- It's actually a D-Type.
- The race version.

Yeah, exactly. DB4 GT Lightweight.

I mean, that was proper
racing in those days.

- No stewards enquiries every time there was a bump.
- No.

They would just finish the race,
have a drink, and then some sex.

We should give it a bash.

What, sex?

- No.
- No.

Happily, we were
in the French town of Pau,

and it was here in 1901 the first
ever Grand Prix was staged.

They were closing roads for races here

long before they thought of doing the
same thing in Monaco or Detroit.

And today they were closed once more...

..for us.

Oh, look at this!

Closed roads through
the centre of Pau. Oh!

Oh, my God! This is like
being in history.

This may have the same Italian
styling as the original,

but unlike Hammond's Jag,
it is not a faithful replica.

It has, for example, a bigger
engine than the original,

which means 40 more brake horsepower.

This thing... This thing is quick!

Whoa! Really quick!

Some things are the same, though.

Windows don't wind down. There's no
fan or air conditioning of any kind,

and it's got a racing gearbox.

That means no synchros.

Which means that when you want to
slow down, you have to heel and toe.

Like that. Yes!

That was a skill I never
thought I'd need to use again,

a bit like changing a typewriter ribbon.

Whoa! That was...

That was me not matching the revs up,

and that was it not forgiving me.

The really good news, though, is the...

..is the brakes.

They're made using modern
materials, unlike in Hammond's Jag.

Yep, in here it's just me
and my big, hairy balls.

And they need to be big.

I can only brake when
I'm accelerating. Seriously.

The power for the brakes
comes off the gearbox,

so with the clutch in there isn't any.

Who thought that was a good idea?

Right, time to unleash
the 3.4L straight-six.

That's 262 brake horsepower
bouncing off the walls.

In the '50s, Ferraris were hitting
160 on the Mulsanne Straight.

Jaguar D-Types were hitting 172.

And remember, this is,
essentially, a D-Type.

Whoa!

Just feel the lack of grip.

Of course, back in the '50s
cars didn't grip,

because they had cross-ply tyres.

Back then it was all about
how a car handled,

and this thing handles
absolutely beautifully.

Come on, Hammond, get out of my way!

This really is a special moment.

Just to see these two cars racing
around here is incredible.

To be in one of them is unreal!

This is one of the
best mornings I've ever had

behind the wheel of a car, ever.

And it's just brilliant fun!

Eventually, though, the
people of Pau wanted their town back,

so Hammond and I called time
on the fun and games

and sat down for a natter
about our amazing cars.

Now, we should explain why
Aston Martin and Jaguar

have suddenly decided to start making
cars from their back catalogue.

- And really, well, it's second-hand values, isn't it?
- Well, basically, yeah.

The last genuine original XKSS to
sell went for over £12 million.

- Was it really 12 million?
- Twelve million.

So anyone who buys that for a million
is getting the bargain of the century.

Yep.

And Jaguar's making more profit on
that than it would from selling...

- A hundred XEs.
- Exactly.

I wouldn't be at all surprised if other
carmakers don't start doing this:

Ferrari, Maserati, Lamborghini.

If Lancia remade the Fulvia now...

I know, I'd love one.

I'd rather have that than one of those.

Is that the new Honda Civic Type R?

- The new-new one, and it is hideous.
- It is, honestly!

It's worse than
the last one. It's awful!

I mean, the original '90s Civic Type R
was brilliant, but that is disgusting.

It's revolting is what it is.

Mind you, it's not as revolting...

- What?
- ...as what's just got out of it.

Oh, God.

Why are you here?

I'm here because I heard that you
two were talking complete rubbish.

You don't buy an old
black-and-white television set,

you don't buy a Bakelite telephone.

- Why would you buy an old car?
- Because they're stylish.

No, new stuff is better than old stuff.
I've explained this to you before.

The world now is better than
it was just one minute ago.

No, it isn't, because a
minute ago you weren't here.

Yeah, that's true. And neither was
that thing, and I do hate it.

It just... That's one of the most
revolting cars I've ever seen.

You see, that's amazing - you're
both talking rubbish again.

To prove it, I suggested we take
our cars for a simple evening drive.

Got to get my leg in.

Right, here I go.

Oh, that's backwards.
No, I don't want backwards.

That's neutral, so...

There, first.

No, that's still... Oh.

What are they doing?

- Struggling a bit here.
- No, it's...

Pulling away is an event.

Ooh!

- Ooh!
- That was a gear, I think.

Finally, the golden-age-of-motoring
duo were on the move,

but not at what you would
call "a hell of a lick".

It's like driving around
behind the National Trust.

I wouldn't be surprised to find there's
a souvenir shop in Hammond's car.

You have to go through it
as you get out.

Why are we going so slowly?

I want to savour the car and
the weather and the journey.

I don't want to rush this
one. I want to... go slowly.

- Exactly. We want to make it last.
- Exactly.

I should admit the real
reason we're driving slowly

is because this part of the French motorway
network is... very heavily policed.

Hammond and I know this to our cost.

A couple of years ago we were driving along
here and I was in an Aston Martin then.

Got busted by the constabulary,

who helped themselves
to all of our money

and took our driving licences
away on the spot.

We were left stranded
at the side of the road.

I could have been r*ped... or m*rder*d.

That gives me an idea.

James May...

I'd love to see how fast
your car could go along here.

Yeah, let's see what
that thing can do. Come on.

I want you to unleash - how
many horsepower is it, 320?

Unleash the lot, James!

Right, I'll come past like a
bloodied samurai. Watch this.

Oh, yes! He's buying it!

Having dropped back, I then
showed them what this car can do.

Here he comes, ladies and
gentlemen of the police force.

Oh, wow!

Goodbye, Heritage Britain.

I reckon it's got more to give.

Go on, James! Go on!
Keep your foot in it, man!

At the speed he's now travelling,

by nightfall he'll be in a
cell with Pierre Le Burglar.

Annoyingly, though, when we
arrived at the overnight hotel...

Oh, for God's sake!

..it turned out he'd got away
with his recklessness.

- No.
- You're not coming in?

My car's got no roof and no locks.

I can't... I can't leave it unattended.

You have got a point, because the
police are more bothered around here

with speeding than they are with crime.

Exactly.

- You've got no door locks?
- No.

God, you're completely screwed.

I tell you what.

I did get to grips with
the gear changing in the end.

I did need a shower after that day when
I got to my hotel room, I'll tell you.

- Did you really?
- Yes, I did.

Because I spent all day sharing a
small metal box with a 4.2L radiator

in the South of France, in the summer.

Honestly, my butt cr*ck was...

We don't need to talk about
your butt cr*ck now, please.

What? I'm just saying it was like
the Colorado River down there.

Yeah, OK. We'll come back
to that later. Not that.

We are actually coming back to
that later. Sweating like a pig.

But there are other things
in there, too.

But right now it is time to ring the
doorbell of debate on the house of chat,

located on Conversation Street.

Erm...

Where shall we begin?

What conversation
shall we have? Oh, I know!

Do you remember a while back we
were asked to vote on the name

of that new, very serious
Antarctic research vessel,

and we all decided we wanted
to call it Boaty McBoatface?

- Yes.
- Remember that?

The authorities were very angry
with us for that, and they said...

I thought actually that we'd
never be consulted again

because the public can't be
trusted to be sensible.

Well, news from my hometown,
Doncaster, OK? Anyone from Doncaster?

Are you actually from Doncaster?
You'll like this.

It's actually news from Doncaster, OK?

The council has decided to risk it, OK?

And they asked the people of
Doncaster to vote on a name

for two new sort of snowplough
road-gritter things.

- Oh, yeah?
- OK?

Would you like to hear suggestions
people have come up with?

- Yes, please, Jeremy, we would.
- Here we go.

Grit Van d*ke.

- True Grit, Rule Gritannia.
- I like that.

- Salt Disney.
- I see what they've done.

These are the names they've chosen.
One of them is going to be called

Gritsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny
Yellow Anti-Slip Machiney.

The other one, though, is going
to be called David Plowie.

That doesn't work.

I think they were hoping we'd
think it was David Plowie,

but it isn't, it's David
Plowie - it doesn't work.

- As in snowplough. No.
- Well, that would work in Birmingham, wouldn't it?

"I'll get the snowplough out.

All right, we'll call it
David Plowie, then."

The marvellous thing is
the council, OK, they said,

"This vote cheered
the whole of Britain up."

Well, it hasn't cheered me up.

And the man from the council said, "It's
got people interested in gritting."

Well, it just hasn't, has it?

We would be interested in gritting
if we'd thought of a name.

Yeah, well, we'd just call it Gary
Gritter, wouldn't we? Let's be honest.

Or maybe Ice-ish. That could work.

Yeah.

Gary Gritter or Ice-ish: do we think
those are better names...? Oh, hang on.

- Adolf Gritler.
- Perfect!

Those are better names.

- That's a good one.
- They like that. Yeah, that works. That's good.

Which shall we have? Shall we go with Itsy
Bitsy and the other one or our names?

Who wants our names? Hands up. Hands up.

- That was a vote, Doncaster.
- Yeah.

- It's just what it's gonna have to be.
- Gary and Adolf the gritters.

Right, the organisers of the
Formula E motor racing series -

which is like Formula 1,
but for electric cars -

they recently staged a race between
one of their cars and a cheetah.

Now, we've got a sh*t from the
video they took of it here.

Now, let me ask you two
a question, right?

The cheetah's top speed is 70mph.

The car's top speed is 140mph.
So which one do you think won?

- Was it the car?
- Yes, it was.

Wow! So the mechanical device with a higher
top speed b*at the bewildered animal

that didn't know what was going on?

Literally the most pointless
race in history.

Yeah, it was basically an exercise
in not running over a cheetah.

- Do you know, I was following a pigeon the other day.
- You what?

Is this a new job?
Have you opened an agency?

Jeremy Clarkson PD: pigeon detective.
It's gonna be brilliant.

Did its partner think it was
cheating? "Follow him!"

No, I was just following...

Every time it stopped, did you
have to read a newspaper,

and then look for its
reflection in a shop window?

- I was merely following...
- Anyway, you should have just gone to Trafalgar Square.

That's where they go.

I was merely driving up my drive, and a
pigeon was flying along in front of me,

and I clocked it,
and it was doing 35mph.

- Was it?
- Yeah.

That's another animal that would lose
a race against a Formula E car, then,

because that does 140.

It had nothing to do with running
a private detective agency.

But you are running
a private detective agency?

I was simply following a pigeon!
It wasn't that interesting!

Anyway, the essence of it is...

Did you follow it into a tree? Because
that would have been really risky.

No, the essence of it is if your
animal does less than 140mph,

it will lose the race
against the Formula E car.

If it does more than... Well,
no animal does more than 140.

It does. A peregrine falcon
does. It does 220.

What if you have to follow one of those?

"I can't take the case, I'm afraid.
I'll need a new car."

Lamborghini has come up with a new
four-by-four. We've got a picture of it here.

- Amazing-looking thing. Fabulous, actually.
- It does look good.

Make no mistake. Twin-turbo V8, which
will be an Audi or a Porsche engine.

Er... Six hundred
and forty-one horsepower.

The only problem is
they've called it the Urus.

- U-R-U-S, yeah?
- Yeah.

Well, that... That sounds to me
like another word for bumhole.

I know what you mean. It
is a bit medical-sounding.

It is. "How is your Urus?"
"It's a bit itchy, actually."

"Mine's inflamed. I can't pee."
It's one of those things, isn't it?

- It's something down there.
- Exactly, down there.

When you go to the doctor's, "I'm gonna check
your Urus," and then he puts a glove on.

"Oh, he's snapping a glove
on. I don't want that."

Anyway, so if you want
one of those, there it is.

Ooh! Can I just talk about the
Ford F150 pickup truck, OK?

Now, how many do you think
they sell in America?

- I know it's a lot.
- A lot. It's 2,500 a day.

- Get sold?
- A day.

- That's new - new F150s.
- That's huge numbers.

And Ford has decided, amazingly,
they would like to sell more,

so they're about to introduce
a hybrid version.

- Really?
- Yes, a hybrid F150 pickup truck.

I can't imagine that F150 owners
are very interested in a hy...

- I don't think they know what it is.
- They wouldn't.

You're dead right. They've actually done
some research over there in America land,

and it turns out that F150
customers, when asked,

list fuel consumption as the 28th most
important thing in their buying consideration.

There are 27 things they would
think about first on the car?

- Yeah, 27 more important things.
- But what things?

I can't think of 27 things on a car.

Well, hold on. Looks...

- Cupholders.
- Cupholders, definitely.

- Yes, that works.
- Power.

- Power.
- Price.

- The size of the load bay thing at the back.
- Yeah.

- What else is more important?
- g*n rack.

- What?
- g*n rack.

g*n rack! "Somewhere for my g*n!"

Six. Definitely g*n rack.

If they're saying that fuel
consumption doesn't matter -

which is what those owners are saying -

why, then, are Ford
making a hybrid at all?

- Why are they bothering?
- Ah, well, now...

No, they've got to. It's because of the
environmental rules that Obama brought in.

All the companies
have to do a certain...

But Ford are saying the batteries that
are part of the hybrid system, OK,

they're not some Communist Bloc to
combat fake news, global warming.

OK, it's got batteries in it, yes,

but they are for charging up
your mitre saw,

cooling beer and running the
coffeemaker on a camping trip.

So the F150 is a pickup

for carrying a big battery
to cool your beer.

And that... I think that is enough
conversation for one week, don't you?

- More than, yes.
- So let's move it on. Erm...

Right, the new Ford GT. I used
one recently in the race we had

from New York to the Niagara Falls.

And I'm not sure that on a freeway journey
like that I got the best out of it.

Yeah, you chose the wrong car.

- Well, not really.
- No, he's right, you did.

Well, the GT
was designed as a racing car.

In fact, it won the first
time out at Le Mans,

and therefore, as we know, using
one on the street is stupid.

- So you're saying I should have tested it on a track?
- Yes.

Good, because I have done.

There are those
who say that, on a track,

the pretty-boy GT is better
than anything made in Europe.

That it's more exciting
than all of its rivals

from Lamborghini
and McLaren... and Ferrari.

Well, before I can find out,
I have to stop.

Right, now we're stationary,
I can put it in track mode...

..which will lower the car gently.

Not that gently.

It will engage the anti-lag system
so the power is always available,

raise the rear wing, and stiffen
the suspension by 100%.

Good. So, now let's see what's what.

The first thing I can tell you is
this is not as delicate as a Ferrari.

Ferrari is balletic.

This is more like
pogo-dancing to The Ramones.

This is hard and brutal and unrefined.

When you're in a Ferrari, it's
like you're wrapped in silk.

In this, it feels like you've
fallen into a saw at a lumberyard.

Don't think, however, that it's just a
barroom brawler - all doors and no trousers.

It is way more than that.

The steering's brilliant,
the brakes are brilliant.

You get the very distinct impression

that nothing in this
has really been compromised

to make it work elegantly on the road.

This is a car for people who
wear Nomex, not spandex.

It's like the chassis's
made from pure telepathy.

You can absolutely wring its neck...

..and it just keeps
coming back for more.

Why can't more cars feel like this?

Then there's the
twin-turbocharged V6 engine.

Yes, the soundtrack is terrible.

It just makes a noise.

A lot of noise... all of the time.

And it only produces 647 horsepower,

which in this day and age is a
lot, but it's not a colossal lot.

You can't help thinking
a thumping great V8

would have solved
both of these problems.

But they didn't want a thumping great V8

because they wanted the GT to be liked.

That's why it has a carbon-fibre
tub and an aluminium subframe.

It's designed to be kept on the ground only
by the weight coming from its aerodynamics.

If you take that weight
out of the equation

by putting the car in V-Max mode,

which locks the rear wing down,

well, who cares it's only got a V6?

Because the performance,
it is blistering.

Nought to 60 takes 2.8 seconds.

Jesus Christ!

And the top speed is 216.

Of course, the GT is not perfect.

The steering wheel is ugly
and difficult to use,

the fuel t*nk is too small,

and the body is too big.

And yet...

Ferraris and Lamborghinis and McLarens are
very good cars, make no mistake about that.

But mostly they're bought by posers.

Now, this isn't for posing.

It's too rough and too plasticky
and too noisy for that.

You buy one of these so you can go to
a track on a miserable Monday morning

when nobody's looking... and do this.

Whoo!

And you've got to love it for that.

Do you know... the strange
thing about that car

is that I finished filming it,
got into my car, went home,

and I haven't really given
the GT another thought since.

I think it's something to do
with the fact it's got that V6,

because V6 engines just aren't exciting.

It's like they've got no personality.

Some are, but I'm with you
a lot of the time.

He's right. If they're turbocharged
especially, because then they don't rev.

You want that extra bit of...

It could be the interior, which is made
from that... It feels like shiny plastic.

It feels cheap and low-rent.
But whatever it is,

it feels to me as though
it hasn't really got a soul.

But we must now find out how fast
it goes around the Eboladrome.

Right, here we go.

And she's off! Spoiler up,
suspension dropped, in full track mode,

as she makes a confident
start onto the Isn't.

Knocking it down a gear for the first
curve to keep those turbos spinning,

and already looking on the raggedy edge.

She's really not mucking about here,
as she flies into Your Name Here.

Ooh! There's a howl from
the bespoke Michelins there.

Now... Oh, yeah, look at that
smooth arc around Your Name Here,

and then lighting the afterburners for
the fast run back down the Isn't.

Not what you would call a
soulful sound, as we've said,

but there's no doubting the
sheer speed of this thing.

OK, into Old Lady's House.
Taking it steady through there.

Easy does it.

And now back on the gas for what will
be a bumpy ride down to Substation.

Hard on the mighty carbon brakes.

Neat through there. This is a
Le-Mans-winning performance.

Through Field of Sheep
and across the line!

That looked unbelievably quick.
Did you see it?

- Yeah, skittering.
- It was properly...

She must have been
properly hanging on in there.

Anyway, we must now find out
where it goes on the board.

Let's have a look.
I imagine pretty high.

Oh!

Well, yes.

One seventeen six.

That's... a second or
so slower than the Lamborghini,

which is half the price, remember.

Yeah, but I think what that shows is not that
the Ford is slow, because it just isn't -

I mean, it's quicker than a McLaren 720.

What that shows actually is
just how fast that Huracán is.

No. Yes, exactly. That's blistering.

Absolutely blistering.
Unbelievable car, that.

Anyway, it's now time
for Celebrity Face-Off.

Yeah. And once again...

Once again, we have a very
big question, and it is this:

who is the fastest drummer from a
band beginning with the letter "P"?

To find out, would you please welcome
from The Police, Stewart Copeland,

and from Pink Floyd, Nick Mason!

Look at this!

We are in the presence of greatness.

Gentlemen. Nick.

- Have a seat, Stewart.
- Very nice to meet you.

Holy cow! Look at that!

We are not messing around tonight.

Genuine rock gods have come among us.

You are both regarded as
particularly excellent drummers.

Well, by each other, yeah.

And one thing I see
that you have in common

is your favourite drummer
is the same person.

Yeah, Mitch Mitchell. We
worked this out last night.

- We sorted out the hierarchy last night.
- That's exactly right.

And er... I knew we were really on
it, because the table next door

were beginning to eavesdrop,

and after five minutes they had
both actually gone to sleep.

That's right. We lost them. We had
lost them by the main course.

So you both agree that Mitch
Mitchell was your favourite drummer?

Yeah, our favourite, I think.

This was Jimi Hendrix's drummer, I think
we should explain to those of you

who are not as old as,
let's say, we are.

Well, that's the travesty right there.

This great towering,
this monument of drums...

"was Jimi Hendrix's drummer."

Well, how would you describe him?

Well, Jimi was Mitch's guitarist.

- Nice. Good.
- Yeah.

One thing that fascinates me is why are
drummers always the butt of everybody's wit?

Well, when I say "wit" I mean jokes.

It's because they secretly
admire our dragging knuckles.

They sense our power.

But there are so many good jokes, right?

What does a drummer get on an IQ test?

- Drool.
- Yeah, drool, exactly.

Hey, hey, hey, hey. What do you
throw a drowning guitarist?

His amp.

How do you know it's the lead
guitarist at the front door?

- Got the wrong key, doesn't know when to come in.
- Yeah.

That's a good one.

So we like the guitarist jokes.

Yeah, got any more jokes?

By the way, since we're the
gnarliest members of the band,

for two hours we chop wood for a living,

and they're prissy little
fiddling in front of this thing.

And you're giving it... Yes, it is.
It's hard work as well.

They tell these jokes
and we just take it.

- We do.
- Because that's how great we are.

You have a rule as well if you
make a mistake with drumming,

which I particularly enjoy.

The suggestion is,
if you do make a mistake...

look angrily at the bass player.

"What the hell are you doing?"
Let's move on to gigs.

You both presumably played
really big ones over the years.

What's been your biggest, do you reckon?

Well, we've been comparing
notes, but, you know,

you played a stadium and there are...

- We sell out, so, you know...
- Yeah, a stadium's a stadium.

But I think he's still got me. We
all played the Stade de France.

I played it twice - you know,
two nights running -

he played it three times running.

OK, he b*at me on this one, then he b*at
me on that one, because he came before me.

This is the way musicians
establish the hierarchy.

He's a drummer, they always come first.

You know, Manfred Mann outranks
me because he came before,

but Kanye is my bitch.

- Now, I've got a question here from Richard Hammond.
- Oh, God.

- No, no.
- Where is he?

- Richard Hammond - he's there, in the audience.
- There you are.

- He's a big fan of One Direction.
- What?

And his question is, "How
do you old dinosaurs feel

now that music's got so good?"

I didn't say that!

I did not say that!

- You did say that.
- I didn't say that! Why would I say that?

- I think I'll let Mr Mason handle this one.
- Yeah.

Well, I'd like to go on record as saying

that fairly recently erm...
I was on a show.

I was promoting something -
probably double glazing -

and I was with erm...
Harry Styles was on as well.

And I did offer to play drums for him,

because I'm really
looking for work. I mean...

We've got to get on to cars.
No, actually, we haven't.

No, not yet, because
I want to talk about fathers.

- Because your father was...
- ..a wonderful man.

- And a CIA spy.
- That, too.

- In his spare time.
- In his spare time.

He was a great father and a jazz
musician. That's how I knew him.

And he was uh... Before
the w*r he played jazz,

and I've still got his trumpet,
he was a session player.

Then the Great w*r broke out and he joined
the army and got into intelligence,

and he shaped the modern Middle
East as it was up until 9/11.

Everything that happened after
9/11 is not my dad's fault.

No.

I mean, he was very instrumental
in Nasser in Egypt, wasn't he?

Yeah, well, when I was born, Daddy
was away on business in Cairo,

installing Gamal Abdel Nasser
as the dictator of Egypt.

Did you know your dad was CIA?

I didn't know until I was in college
and um... his book came out.

And on the liner notes of the book...

OK, but when did he stop being a spy?

- I... Well...
- Well, certainly after he'd written the book.

And your father - we can turn to that.
Now, he was a documentary maker.

- Mm-hm.
- But mostly a motor racing enthusiast.

- Yeah.
- Which has rubbed off on you.

Mm, just a bit.

This is where I'm afraid we have
to tune you out slightly, Stewart,

for a little while, because
Nick's car collection is...

- This is a car show.
- It is a car show.

Not a spy-daddy show.

- How many cars have you got?
- I don't know. Erm...

Hm. Twen...

Thir...

Thir... Forty?

Forty?

I've got a list here of some of them.

We're not talking now about, you
know, cars like a Ford Cortina,

because you've got an Alfa Romeo TZ1,

Aston Martin Ulster, 1930 Bentley 4.5L,

Bugatti Type 35, Ferrari 250 GTO,

Ferrari 250 LM, Ferrari 512 Berlinetta
Boxer, Ferrari Daytona Competition,

Ferrari F40, Model T4, Jaguar D-Type,

Maserati 250F, Maserati
Birdcage, McLaren GTR.

It's a remarkable collection.
Which is your favourite?

Er... It always has to be the 250 GTO,

because it makes me look clever.

You know, when I bought
this car 40 years ago...

May I just ask - it's
a rude question, I know -

but how much did you pay for the GTO?

- I paid about 35 grand for it.
- Thirty-five thousand?

- And it's now worth...?
- I... Don't tell me.

Thirty million.

No, more than that. Oh!

- Where are all these cars?
- Oh, God. I've left them on the meter.

Have you got, like,
the garage from hell?

And these are largely racing cars. It's
racing that interests you more than...

Yeah. I never wanted to be a car
collector, I wanted to go motor racing.

- And you do actually use them?
- Yes.

- And lend them out?
- Erm... Not often, but occasionally, yeah.

- Well, you lend them to your family.
- Yes.

Who would like to see a photograph
of what your daughter did to one?

There she is.

- That's your little girl?
- It's known as the Cupcake.

The gloves and the helmet and the...
look go great in the pink Cupcake.

She's trying to steer it still.

On the side, it all looks...

She hasn't given up,
that's what I really...

"I can get this back."

Right, come on, then, Stewart,
let's get to your cars.

It starts with a... It's not quite
as impressive as Nick's, is it?

- A Morris Traveller.
- There you go.

I got it for 40 quid from a gypsy,

and I spent most of the time under it.

- That was when you were in the UK?
- Yeah.

- And I had a Millman Minx for a very short amount of time?
- A Minx?

A Hill... A Millman Hinx.

It met its end in Hammersmith.

No! How?

Well, I was pulling around Hammersmith,

and an articulated lorry
came in front of me,

and uh... so I slowed down,

and the back of a truck ran over and
squashed my Hillman Minx like a bug.

On... Right there in Hammersmith.

And as I'm looking at the
smouldering remains of my car,

a cop comes up and gave me
a ticket for bald tyres.

That's cruel. Anyway, look, we've
got to get on to your laps.

Er... Now, whose lap shall we see first?
Let me think.

I think we should start with...

Well, let's be honest, let's
start with the older gentleman,

the elder statesman, the pro.

OK, who would like to see Nick's lap?

Come on, then. Let's have a look.

That's how you do it.

OK, launch control.

And... Oh, look at that for a tidy line.

This is a man who's done racing before.

Holding it nicely there.

- And onto the gravel.
- Very nice. Very nice. Look at that.

No brake lights.

Oh, but there should have been,
perhaps, because that's quite wide.

And there we are. So, quick at the
beginning, slow now - typical drummer.

drift!

- Oh, look at... That's nicely done, Nick.
- Nice, nice.

And into Difficult Bit Two.

- You're just kissing those lines so neatly.
- That bodes well.

No, it does. You know,
it doesn't look particularly fast,

but I can just see... Let's have a look.
That's really skinny, that bit.

The gravel's insane.

Yeah, but it's when you get
back on the tarmac, you think...

Oh, that was wide!
Right, now into the fast bit.

Whoa! Scary!

Yeah, it is that fast.
It is quite scary through here.

That is tidily done. Did you lift?

Wahoo!

And there we are, he is across
the line. So that's good - you're there.

Did you lift off on the fast bit?

By the end of it I did it flat.

You did it flat?

OK, then. Who would like
to see Stewart's lap?

Let's have a look at Stewart's lap.

Yeah, tidy start.

Hallelujah! Geronimo!

Are we as tidy as Nick?
No, we're just cheating.

- Off the course.
- No, that was nice. I like to slow it...

Yes, that's good. Keep it on
the right, ready for the left,

and onto the difficult bit, when it
starts to just snake around on you.

This is insane. This
gravel is just completely insane.

No, I can tell you're
really enjoying the gravel.

I hate the dirt! The dirt sucks!

No, I may have got that wrong.
But this bit... Yes, nicely done.

You're a lot more violent,
I'd say, than Nick here.

A lot more... Yeah, look at
that - kicking the tail out.

- Some upthrust there.
- Kicking the tail out again.

Soon you'll be back on the tarmac.

A bit of a weave there, it must be said.

- I approve of the...
- It's looking really dramatic.

It is dramatic. It's a lot more
dramatic-looking than Nick's lap, but...

Let's go!

This is a man on a mission. Oh, Christ!

That is quick through there, I'm
gonna be honest, and nicely held.

Stay on course here.
OK, this is the big turn.

And you've made it. He's made
it back, all the way across the line!

Who shall we do first?

I think we're gonna go with
Steady Eddie here, Nick Mason.

- One twenty-one three.
- Oh.

Well, you're pulling a face but you
don't know what anyone else did.

There you are at 1:21.3.

Just to give you an idea, that puts you
at exactly the same time as Luke Evans,

who's in The Fast And The Furious.

Quicker than Hugh Bonneville,
quicker than Michael Ball,

quicker than David Hasselhoff.

- Whoa! That's some sh*t.
- Stewart Copeland.

- You looked faster.
- Felt faster.

Felt faster.

But you did it in 1:24.2.

So...

Hey... I made it around the course.

- You made it around the course...
- Mostly.

..but I don't think we've
had anyone slower.

- No, I'm lying. Bill Bailey, a well-known comedian here...
- Yes, Bill! You my bitch!

- Bill Bailey and Alfie Boe, they're both slower.
- Two b*tches!

You've got two British b*tches.

So, there we are, ladies and gentlemen.
Thank you so much, Stewart Copeland,

and the fastest drummer from a band
beginning with "P", Nick Mason!

Now, tonight Hammond and Clarkson are
driving around France in some rubbish,

and I've turned up in a
modern Honda Civic Type R

to prove that modern cars are
more reliable, more comfortable,

and, in fact,
better in every single way.

Yeah, whatever. When we left the action, I
was standing outside our overnight hotel,

trying to work out how
to secure a £1 million Jaguar

that has no roof or door locks.

It was a problem. We pick up the
action the following morning.

- Morning.
- Morning.

- Sleep well?
- No.

- Did you do that?
- Yeah, I got bored.

I'm amazed he didn't notice.

It could have
something to do with the fact

that nobody ever looks at their
number plate before they drive off.

Good point.

Soon, they had got
their stupid cars going

and we were on our way to the mountains.

While I was asleep in my
luxurious hotel bed last night,

I came up with a bit of a plan.

We'd head over the Pyrenees,

into Spain and down to Barcelona,

to try our cars on a very special
track that I'd heard about.

On the way I'd prove my car was better,

and at the circuit I'd prove
that even with me at the helm,

it's faster as well.

Here's what you need to know
about old cars -

they are great to look at, but
you don't want to drive one

any more than you want to use an
old twin-tub washing machine.

They're just crap.

I honestly don't know
what James May's on about.

"I don't like old stuff." He loves it!

He can't get enough of it!
He owns a 1977 Ferrari.

He has a collection of
ancient Honda motorcycles.

Does he spend his spare time fixing
computers or going to raves? No.

He spends it eating old-fashioned pies

and helping his friends
rebuild a steam engine.

I know some of you think
I'm being deliberately obtuse

driving this Honda, but I'm not.

I promise you, I do genuinely like it.

Not only does it hold the lap record for
front-wheel drive cars around the Nurburgring -

seven seconds faster than the old one -

it's done that while
becoming more refined.

The engine's smoother,
the ride's more subtle.

It's just a bit better
all-round. It's tremendous.

It's also very easy to drive,
which old cars are not.

It's in.

Annoyingly, at slow
speeds, James had a point.

The Aston was a tricky little sod.

That gearbox whine,
it's quite pronounced.

And then there was the change action.

On balance, I think I prefer a
double-clutch system... with paddles.

I'm just trying to do up my
shirtsleeves, because it's quite chilly

and that will make a difference.

Definitely getting colder.

Fortunately, the 3.4L straight-six
generates so much heat,

and there is so little shielding,
that whilst my top half is cold,

my bottom half is toasty warm.

Window doesn't wind down,

no vents, no air conditioning.

No air in here at all,
in fact. Just heat.

What I'm being is casseroled.

And soon things got worse...

I'm trying not to shiver.

..because a thick fog descended.

This meant we had
to slow down even more.

And that made the Aston even worse.

This is very authentically
'50s. I'm enjoying it.

It's sometimes quite
difficult to get it into gear.

I'm just going
to try that in my car. Hold on.

Let's have second gear. Hm.

I can even knock it down to first here.

Second. No, it works.

No, mine's a piece of cake.

But there's no sense of satisfaction,
is there, when you do it right?

Yeah, there is.

After a little while, the fog
went from thick to impenetrable.

I can see pretty much nothing now.

The lights don't help
and the windscreen wipers

just move the water around
on the windscreen.

Literally can't see a thing now.

Fog, rain, noise.

A lot of noise.

Yeah, I'm quite cold now.

However, the impending hypothermia
was not my main worry.

Oh, my God.

It's not sounding...
Yeah, it's not good.

I'm having to slip the clutch to
sort of keep it moving at all.

Yeah, I think I'm down
to three cylinders now.

And then I had
a good old 1950s breakdown.

What's the matter with it?

I think it's the spark plugs are
all fouled up and gummed up.

Well, don't tell James.

No. Well, where is he?

I don't even know where my car is
and I only parked it over there.

I can't see a damn thing.

No. Well, at least he won't
have seen me doing this.

- He could drive by.
- Well... I'll...

You go ahead.

Look, tell him I'm behind
him, or I'm ahead somewhere.

- I could be 100 yards away.
- I'll get back on the road.

- You get on the road. I'll fix this.
- He'll never know.

Exactly. Tell him I'm
having a lovely time and...

- It's starting to rain, though, Hammond.
- Yes, I know!

- Have you got a jacket?
- No!

Where's my bloody car? Has anyone...

Can anyone see an Aston Martin anywhere?

Hello?

Hammond?

I've found a car here. It's...
Oh, it's... It's a Toyota.

And th-they're dogging.

They really are, actually.
That's quite embarrassing.

Yeah, they're driving away
now because they realise.

Hello. Sorry about...

Nothing to see here.

Leaving Hammond to his
repairs on Dogger Bank,

I made some changes in my car
and set off to find James.

Oh, yes!

I have improved my Aston Martin.

All of a sudden, my car makes sense -

I can't hear it.

And then I came across ASBO Man,
who was immediately suspicious.

Where's Hammond?

Yeah, he's in front of me.

I'm driving right behind.
I can see him, plain as day.

The fog is lifting and I can't
help noticing that Richard Hammond,

who is supposedly in front of you,

is driving a Land Rover
Discovery filming car.

No, no. He er... He overtook it.

Er... He roared off. Unbelievable speed.
I couldn't keep up.

- His car's broken, hasn't it?
- No.

Are your brakes squeaking?

No, they're birds. It's birdsong.

Right, James, look out. There
are cows, followed by h*tler.

Oh, no, it's not h*tler,
it's Winston Churchill.

A cow has att*cked the Aston Martin!

Don't do that! Go and att*ck the Honda.

Meanwhile, I'd got my car going
again, and was starting to regret it.

Yeah, this is quite hard work now. I'll
be honest, I'm getting pretty tired.

My... My left leg is agony.

Gear change.

My knee hurts.

So do my ears, actually.
I'm also quite cold.

The truth is that
in the fog, at slow speeds,

on James's ridiculous route,

which was full of wartime
leaders and att*ck cows,

the older cars here had been hard work.

But as we crested
the Pyrenees, the fog lifted.

This meant I could drive the Aston
at the only speed it understands.

Flat out.

Providing, of course,
I could get past James May.

I'm going into R mode.

The lights on the instruments
have gone red.

Goodbye, Mr Clarkson.

He's going down!

Oh, he's going down so badly!

I'm all over the back of him now.

I have more power and less weight.

He can come snouting around
with his massive engine,

but as soon as we get
to the curves I'll pull away.

Coming through.

Ha-ha!

I was back in front, and more
importantly... back in love with my Aston.

What a car this is.

Oh! You have to drive it.

Every gear change
has to be... worked out.

Every steering movement thought through.

And you can never get to the corner and
think, "I won't bother heel-and-toeing here."

You have to, or it won't go into gear.

As we entered Spain,
we were back as a three.

And soon we reached Barcelona -
a city known for many things:

its cathedral, its cafés,

and its interesting architecture.

But, actually, the most
impressive thing here is this.

It's called the Terramar,

and it's the oldest surviving
banked track in Europe.

It opened in 1923, staged one big race,

and due to some unpaid bills,
closed a day later.

For the last 50 years
it's been a chicken farm.

OK, congratulations, James. This is the
steepest banked circuit I've ever, ever seen.

And I'm not even
at the steep bit of it yet.

Seventy-eight degrees
at the top, apparently.

What's your plan, May?

Well, what I thought we'd do is put a
speed trap at the end of this curve,

where it goes level again, and
whoever achieves the highest speed

through this banking is the winner.

Right. Erm... Can we have
a bit of practice first?

Could I make a couple of
modifications to my Aston?

Not if it's swapping it for a DB11.

I can't... I literally can't
get any higher than this.

Have we got to drive up there?
We do, don't we, to go fastest?

- If you go off the edge...
- Yeah?

...it's oblivion.

- No, because the tree will stop us, won't it?
- No.

Before we embarked on our practice laps,

I set about my important modifications.

What are you doing?

I'm giving my car air conditioning.

You're drilling holes in a
one-and-a-half-million-pound car?

I couldn't do that.

That's the difference between
you and me - I'm practical.

- No, that's vandalism.
- It's not vandalism!

It's got a hole in it!

But now I'll be able to breathe
and see where I'm going,

which is important when
the track is at that angle.

That's like saying, "Westminster
Abbey's in the way.

I'll knock it down so I get a
better view." It's still vandalism.

You don't like old things, so why wouldn't
you knock Westminster Abbey down?

- I like Westminster Abbey.
- Ha! Hoist by his own petard. Another one here.

With the air con sorted,
it was time to start practising,

on what, over the years, has become
a bumpy, potholed deathtrap.

Sixty miles an hour as I approach...

Whoa! Big pothole there.

..the first corner.

Already, I can tell it's very bumpy.

Whoa! Steering's gone very weird!

Christ! It's alarming.

It's bloody ridiculous! To look where
you're going, you have to look up.

That doesn't happen in cars. It's wrong!

Coming up to the second banked turn.

Christ!

The bumps are so unnerving!

Jesus!

Apparently, some of them are so violent

they can make the car jump...
four feet to the right.

The forces being exerted on the
outside tyres are unbelievable.

We are talking planetary energy.

Aware of this, Hammond was
starting to make squeaky noises.

Who said I want to go up there?
Why would I go up there?

I'm gonna try and lift it up the
banking on this one. Here we go.

Oh, sh*t! That was a big bump!

God Al-bloody-mighty!

Jesus Christ! That's terrible!

Finally, the practice laps were over.

Oh, Christ! This... is (BLEEP) scary.

The problem with going around a banked
turn is there's nothing you can do.

You can't slow down, you can't speed up.

If anything goes wrong,
you're a passenger.

And because he was aware of that, too,

Squeaky Boy decided he
didn't want to play any more.

Yeah, well, my practice laps have told
me one thing - I don't want to do it.

I've just gone right off huge motoring
accidents at the moment. Right off them.

Having decided he
didn't want to buy the farm,

he went off to buy a farmhouse instead.

So it became a two-car sh**t-out,

and ASBO Man was the first to go.

Concentrate, May. Concentrate.

Give it some beanage.

sh*t! That's terrifying!

Bumpy! Bumpy!

It's made the windscreen wipers come on!

Jeez! That is not a pleasant
sensation, I promise you.

Right, this is it!

Let's see how fast
I can make this thing go.

Oh, my giddy aunt!
That is... Jesus Christ!

That's bumpy sh*t!

Oh, me!

That's one of the scariest
things I've ever done in a car.

Ever.

It was.

Well done. Well done. Well done.

I've got to say erm...

..we weren't joking there - he
really did go and buy a farmhouse

in south-west France.

And actually, James and I
wish we'd gone with him,

because that was hideously terrifying.

- It's awful.
- It really was.

Anyway, I have the numbers
from the speed trap here,

and, Jeremy Clarkson,
you passed it at 89mph.

- Well done.
- That is brave. That is brave.

- Was it really 89?
- Yes. Well done.

- And then, James May, you passed it at...
- Thirty-two.

...93mph!

Oh!

James May has won a thing!

- I'm staggered! He has!
- He's won a thing!

And what you've proved is,
by being so speedy,

that modern cars are 4mph faster
than they were 60 years ago.

Yeah.

The thing is, though, you can't
actually drive your cars on the road.

Well, no, the Aston, I have to admit,
at slow speed, is very difficult.

If you try and tickle it into
gear, it just won't have it.

The only language
it understands is v*olence.

You ram it in, and then you're fine.

That's not what I was talking about.

You're not actually allowed to drive
your cars on the road, are you?

I did, because Aston registered that
one as a prototype, so I could.

Yeah, it was a bit more
complicated in the Jag,

because it was registered as a test car,

so technically only a Jaguar
employee can drive it.

- So how did you?
- I had to get a job at Jaguar.

Seriously?

Yeah, I-I now work for Jaguar. I do.

But as my job is now done,
Jaguar, I'm afraid I resign.

How will the news go down in Wall
Street when they hear about this?

It will affect the share price. "Hammond
rocks City with shock Jag move."

That could be the headline.

Or it could be,
"Hamster screws big cat."

That would do it. That would cover it.

- Look, here is the... here is the truth of it.
- Yeah?

If you went out and bought
one of those cars,

you wouldn't legally be allowed to
drive it on the road, would you?

No, you wouldn't.

So you've actually wasted
everybody's time, haven't you?

- A bit, yeah.
- Yeah, a bit.

And on that terrible
disappointment, it is time to end.

Thank you so much for watching.
See you next time. Goodbye!