The sounds of a great British summer – the gentle thwack of leather and willow (cricket, you utter perverts), squawking shitehawks (seagulls) dive bombing the seafront for fresh chips, the thump of pasty Brits hitting the dirt as they pass out from the lack of air conditioning, which we don’t have because the EU banned it and we’re too poor or something – surround me. Oh, and then there’s the gasping wheeze of thousands of unremarkable shit boxes heaving themselves onto the lawn of a castle for the only event they can actually get into.
One of the highlights of the British car show summer is the annual Festival of the Unexceptional, organized by our friends at Hagerty. It’s the equivalent to your Concours D’Lemons, but with more British self-deprecating humor and less Jason Torchinsky. A huge celebration of the most mediocre cars to ever soil the tarmac during the seventies, eighties and nineties, if Generation X-ers like me ever shed our apathy long enough to organize a car show, FOTU (to use its accepted internet-friendly abbreviation) would be it.
Staged on the vast front lawn of Grimsthorpe Castle (nominative determinism in action), this year’s event was the biggest yet, attracting visitors and exhibitors from all over Europe. I didn’t make it last year because on the morning of the event, our Rodius presented me with a flat tire as a ‘fuck you’ and by that time I had had enough of the bloody thing, so I threw up my hands and went back to bed.
This year was the maiden outing for my new car, which had been in my possession for precisely one week. Now, you might suggest that neither your humble author nor an eighties high-performance Euro Ford fit the definition of unexceptional, and I would agree. But only entrants picked for judging in the Concours d’Ordinaire are strictly curated under the unexceptional banner, with the main display area being for ‘classic’ and unexceptional cars. However, trombone engine map Subarus and vaping VAG group products trying to pass themselves off as classics are silently marshalled into the modern car park, out of sight and out of mind. Without further ado then, let us celebrate some utter automotive gruel.
1986 Citroen Axel
It’s not often I come across a car that completely befuddles me. I spent ten minutes walking around this alternately convincing myself it was an AX and then oh no it’s a Visa, and actually it IS an AX, and hang on, what the fucking hell is this thing, Schrodinger’s Citroen? Nope, actually it’s a Citroen Axel – a French rebadge of an earlier abandoned project they had fobbed of on the Romanians, where it was sold as the Oltcit Cub. Because the Communists couldn’t pay up, Citroen tried to recoup their money by importing the Cub back to Europe as the Axel, although it wasn’t sold in the UK.
The simple and rugged Axel sat underneath the ageing Visa in the Citroen range, using air-cooled flat twins from the Dyane and fours from the GSA. It had disc brakes all round which they didn’t need, and bigger-engined versions had a five-speed gearbox, which they definitely did. Just look at that dashboard and tell me it wasn’t designed by someone roaringly drunk on Pernod. The switches on the top of the binnacle you reach by putting your hand through the wheel are a particular joy, if you like having your wrist broken as the steering unwinds. The gap between the rear bumper and quarter panel looks like something you could drive a May Day tank parade through as well. Notice the license plate? It’s from the Netherlands, a country known for its lack of hills. I bet the Axel still gets overtaken by cyclists.
1999 Skoda Felicia Fun
We used to laugh at seventies and eighties Skodas with their side flapping frunk lids and ass-mounted engines, but the Velvet Revolution (saw them open for The Jesus and Mary Chain at the Borderline in ’91) happened, the former Czechoslovakia cast aside the hammer and sickle, embraced the oily tendrils of Capitalism and the Czech Republic was born A fire sale of state-owned assets began, Western OEMs were courted and Volkswagen was able to swoop in like a vulture and bag 30% of Skoda, on the promise of them maintaining production of the slightly more up-to-date FWD Favorit, introduced in 1987, and VW guaranteeing the future of Czech Republic based Skoda facilities.
In 1994 Volkswagen gave the Favorit a skin job to create the Felicia. Embracing their riches, after a three-day potato salad bender some Skoda engineers looked around the factory, saw a load of Felicia pickup bodies and decided spray painting them yellow and installing a moveable rear partition with a pair of jump seats was a great idea. Thus, the Felicia Fun was born. According to this website, just over 4000 Felicia Funs were built, with some 600 or so making their way to the UK. Gordon Fucking Bennett, we defeated Communism for THIS? Believe it or not, there were actually two of these at FOTU, at one point parked next to each other. That’s two more than I ever hope to see again.
1989 Nissan Sunny Estate & 1990 Sunny Coupe
Over to our ‘I can’t believe this is the same car’ desk now for this pair of appliance-white Nissan Sunnys. Introduced in 1985 the B12 Sunny had rectilinear styling knocked out by one of the Zanussi design team, which had the laughable effect of making a brand-new car look utterly dated the minute it hit the showrooms, troubling in important export markets like the UK, where Nissan was scrabbling to get a foothold.
If modern life was a bit too exciting for you in 1989, a cure could be found by putting the Sunny Estate on your drive for £8700, and you could earn some of that money back by using it as a minicab in the evenings. The three-door might look rakish, but at the time, Car magazine described the Sunny Coupe as “the world’s worst ‘performance’ coupe.” The version you’d actually want is the 1.8-liter 16-valve model because it was the only one with enough performance to get away from anyone who saw you driving it. It cost a staggering £12,500 pounds, which at the time was more than a BMW 316i. I don’t think the styling was Nissan’s only problem.
Vauxhall Viva/Firenza
I’m going to put down the snark for this one because from a 2026 viewpoint the Viva tells a slightly melancholic story that could be seen as the beginning of the end. Launched in 1970 as a heavy re-skin of the existing Viva HB, the HC was the last Vauxhall designed and engineered entirely in the UK. After the HC Viva Vauxhalls became restyled Opels or based on GM world car platforms like the T-Car and J-Car. The Viva was analogous to Ford’s all conquering Escort – a small RWD sedan available with a wide spread of trim and engines. You can see a heavy Detroit influence in the Viva’s exterior – inside, early versions even had a ribbon speedometer. Plusher and more powerful versions were named Magnum, and the two-door coupe badged Firenza. This wide range mirrored Ford’s approach and likewise made the HC Viva a strong seller, with some 600,000 sold in nine years on sale.
This Jamaica Yellow is a very late car; the V suffix means a registration date between August 1979 and July 1980. It’s owned by the British Motor Museum at Gaydon. The silver Firenza is from 1975, the final year the two-door was on sale. Officially known as the HP (High Performance) Firenza, and colloquially called the ‘droop snoot,’ it had a 2.3 four with twin carbs and a five-speed gearbox. Despite the best efforts of Gerry Marshall ragging a racing version around British circuits like he was late for opening time at the bar, the Firenza HP never had anything like the sporting credibility of the equivalent Escort. It launched at exactly the wrong time, and only 204 were built. Nowadays, few of any version of the Viva survive, and parts are rare and expensive – giving the Escort a final victory in death.
1983 Renault 30
Mon Dieu! Une grosse berline française qui n’est pas une Citroën? Plop a Johnny Halliday cassette into the stereo and treat your mistress or girlfriend (or both) to a comfortable ride they’ll never forget. Launched in 1975, the upscale Renault 30 was one of the first of the breed of the large Euro super hatch. Its two most notable achievements are the introduction of the PRV (Peugeot Renault Volvo) V6 and rust. A more modest version, the 20, came along a few months later, distinguished by its single rectangular headlights.
I have mentioned before my bastard stepfather was a part-time curbside cowboy. One of his regular punters had one of these, and he joked that working on it come MOT time paid for our family holiday every year. Even in the mid-eighties, getting parts for these was a nightmare. When he sent me to our local parts place (I was his unpaid gopher), they said “A Renault? Sorry we’re closed!” and proceeded to laugh in my face. Sometimes I wonder if I was one wrong set of brake pads away from a life of serial killing. It’s a miracle I turned out as well adjusted as I did, frankly.
Right, there’s a lot of other stuff to get through, and I want to wrap this up as I’ve been writing it for three days. Let’s get on with the photo dump, which I’ve put into half-assed categories.
The American Mind Cannot Comprehend etc.
1999 Volkswagen Lupo
1991 Mazda 323F SE Executive. Alright, calm down, it’s just a fucking 323 with pop-up lights.
1989 Honda Accord Aerodeck
1977 DAF 45. Goes as fast backwards as it does forwards, i.e., not very. Also, don’t drive through any puddles.
Nineties Convertibles That Are Not Miatas.
1993 Rover 200
Suzuki Vitara
1996 Fiat Punto convertible. Those stickers are making the appalling three-quarter blind spots even worse. Well done.
More French Fancies
1979 Matra Rancho. When they weren’t building missiles, Matra used to build cars for other French OEMs.
1985 Renault Espace. Also built by Matra.
1998 Peugeot 406. The greatest mass market Euro sedan ever made. I will not be taking questions.
1973 Renault 15TS. Possibly the slowest mass market Euro performance coupe ever made.
The Section To Make Andrea Faint
1982 Fiat 127. Late version of the revolutionary FWD hatch.
1995 Alfa Romeo 155 in goth spec.
2000 Fiat Seicento. A reskin of the earlier Cinquecento.
Lancia Thesis. Never sold in the UK. Another one that had made the trip from Holland.
Fast Euro Fords To Make Matt Faint
1987 Escort RS Turbo. Most of these ended up wrecked or stolen.
1989 Fiesta XR2i. Non-standard wheels are the crime here.
Actually, I Take Those Back. Where Is MY Limo And Podcast, Matt?
1992 Eagle Quest. We all know who this belongs to.
Some Base Euro Fords For Matt Instead.
1987 Fiesta MkII
1992 Escort MkV
Look How They Massacred My Boy
1983, 1985 and 1992 Ford Sierras.
A long time ago, I wrote about how Ford was forced to unwind the Sierra’s austere design during its lifetime. Although the red car is a Base (yes, it was really called that and my god the owner has a website about it), I took these pictures to demonstrate my point.
The Pinnacle of European Luxury Motoring And The Greatest Car Ever Made
1981 Ford Capri 2.8 injection and 1985 Ford Granada 2.8 injection Ghia. Rate my two-car garage, although only one of them is actually mine. Take a wild guess which.
As usual, I’ve written this in my inimitable manner, but I hope you all know me well enough by now to know I mock because I care. I loved all these cars, and it was a privilege to be able to spend a day amongst them. Some of them came from a long way away, which I think is an impressive tribute to both owners and vehicles.
Not as impressive as me getting my new car to attend, mind you, but that’s a story for next time.
All photos: Adrian Clarke
“Just look at that dashboard and tell me it wasn’t designed by someone roaringly drunk on Pernod.”
No notes. I bow to you, sir.
Guessing yours is the Ford Capri because it’s black. That ’95 Alfa 155 gives me the fizz.
And also because it’s now in his bio at the bottom… lol.
“…our Rodius presented me with a flat tire as a ‘fuck you’ and by that time I had had enough of the bloody thing, so I threw up in my hands and went back to bed.”
FTFY Or that’s how I read it the first time.
If it makes you feel better, it took me a few re-readings to figure out what kind of “curbside cowboy” he was talking about, too. Thought it was nice of him to use the extra hustle money for family vacations though!
Yeah – I thought “curbside cowboy” was just another term for “midnight cowboy”. 🙂
I love the wacky Citroen!
Did anyone else see that ’85 Espace and immediately think Ford Aerostar?
Just me?
Okay…
Yeah, except the Espace looks better. Same basic silhouette, though.
Check out Shedfest and let us know if it is as good as Alex make it out to be.
Missed it for this year but I will check it out. Rustival is soon as well.
As usual Adrian, I LOVED this!
Not just your usual snark (though I do really dig that too) but such cogent descriptions and clear images too! You know of course that few of these cars were ever sold in America (AFIAK… I think that Vitara was sold here as a Tracker or something) and that alone makes them interesting to me, and to many other readers too I assume.
Yours is the shiny black Capri? I’m just guessing… you probably told us already, but I can’t recall. Quite handsome, regardless of who owns it.
Did you take the photos with a phone or actual camera? I’m just curious as they’re all so nice and sharp and decently exposed.
I know the hot Escort would be the smart choice (well, as far as resale value is concerned, I’m guessing) and it is tempting, but if I could add just one of those cars to my stable, I’d reluctantly decline that silver Firenza despite its weird appeal and pick the Aerodeck from Honda (perhaps predictably). That Mazda 323F is nice too, and I might have picked it if it’d had two fewer doors.
Thanks so much! 😀
The Nissans were the Sentra wagon and hatchback coupe. Both were fairly popular here, but I’m not surprised the coupe wasn’t in the UK if it was priced like a BMW!
Was looking to see if someone else got that first. The Vitara was the Tracker under Geo/Chevy and Sidekick under the Suzuki brand.
Yes just my phone camera. Actually taking pictures was a nightmare because it was so bright and sunny I could hardly see the screen.
Came out great regardless. 🙂
Am I the only one who hates these videos playing at the top of the page?
Definitely not, but apparently it’s still a work in progress.
Is there some reason images are sized to 700×525 on this site? To maintain compatibility with one of Jason’s old turd computers?
The inability to make photos large enough for a monitor made after 1998 is frustrating.
The actual upload size in the content management system is 1600×1200.
Yes we can right click and view image in a new tab to really see the good size images. Also they show up full size in the RSS feed. Just that the 700px wide layout on the site is antiquated.
What’s wrong with me that I STRONGLY DESIRE the Accord Aerodeck?
Same thing that’s wrong with me, apparently. Also, the Mazda above it.
I third that motion
Fourthed. I made my post above (saying the same thing essentially) before reading other comments.
Same, me gusta Aerodeck
Aerodeck 4 lyfe crü.
Your sickness is shared by many, including me.
I am an unabashed and unrepentant admirer of this sentence.
A Mk I Capri, with the V-6 and 4-speed, was the car with which I learned to drive stick shift. As such, I will always have a warm spot in my heart for any Capri.
I saw a Perana V6 (even rarer than the V8!) at my local garage a while back. Still got a photo on an old phone somewhere.
That Citroën does 180 kph… says so on the speedo.
In the Nissan/Datsun section I was surprised not to see any 70/80s 140Ys, in coupé styling.
With Why being the correct part of the name.
We had one –needed to buy something in a rush just before Christmas after a crash in a rusty R4.
Highlights included the back end drifting when my wife drove round a roundabout at 20mph.
Shortly afterwards failed MOT due to excessive rust, and I think we got £30 for it.
If that Thesis is at the NEC, I’m leaving my number on the windshield…
Congrats on getting your own section in the article.
Adrian knows my tastes quite well after a rather sloshed game of Italian Car Brand Fuck Marry Kill at a basement tiki lounge a few blocks from Buckingham Palace…
Can I register for those, or…?
I’d leave a number 2 on the windshield.
If Peugeot had ever had a proper dealership body, I think they’d have made it here. The impression I get from the few US owners I’ve chatted with was that the 505 and 405 were properly solid cars that weren’t nightmares to run, until you actually needed a part. Had they sold the 406 Coupé here, I could see that having been my choice as a second hand car circa 2001-2005.
The 406 was a great tourer and did sell pretty well here in Australia and rode a wave of Euro diesel passenger cars when that was the smart choice.
Those 405/406 were fantastic to drive, even in diesel. A very well sorted car if only the French electronics kept working. So much better than the overweight 407 that replaced it.
The 206 added a bit of French chic to anywhere you parked it.
Well, maybe not mine, which had moss and lichen growing on it.
When I was delivering pizza during college, one of the other drivers drove a Peugeot wagon…I think it was a 504 diesel, but I honestly don’t remember…that was a very long time ago. Anyways, that thing was a monster…absolutely unstoppable tank. He loved that damn thing. Really huge orders went to him, because the back of that car was cavernous.
Someone over here should start a Not-So-Rad car show. Like an in person of Shitbox Showdown. Nothing newer than 201_ since all modern cars suck in a different, knobless way.
I would attend, and could also drive some crap there.
That’s sort of what the Concours de Lemons is as I understand it.
Yes, but that show is in CA. I live in Maine, so that British show is closer then CA. Of course there’s a large puddle in between to get across…
That RS Turbo is making me feel feelings.
Limo and a podcast and I’ll see what I can do.
Sound like a decent deal actually.
“It’s the equivalent to your Concours D’Lemons, but with more British self-deprecating humor and less Jason Torchinsky.”
This absolutely should be remedied next year. Just for the taillight frenzy.
Was a pleasure to meet you at the event. What, no pictures of my friend’s Vauxhall Astra? Or the present? Kidding, of course. But it was an amazing show. I can’t think of any other place where a Fiesta Van shares space with a Skoda Felicia Fun.
The pleasure was mine and thank you for the bribe….er gift.
I took so many pictures and it was hard to leave stuff out for the article!
Had I been in Blighty, I’d definitely have gone. After too many visits to car shows here, I’m a little fed up with trailered-in Veyrons and candy-colored Murcielagos. Give me a Lupo or a Fiesta XR2 any day.
The Renault 30 gave me a strong whiff of my late, lamented R16. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if examples of some of my old cast-offs were lurking around the edges of the show.
It’s always heartwarming to see that weird and boring can coexist! Thanks, Adrian!
I think the idea was the 16 scaled up a class.
Turns out that the new scarcity of Adrian’s articles just make them even more of a treat. This will keep my Snide Quota full for at least a week!
Congrats on the new Capri!
I’ve realized why your specific writing style appeals to me so much. You use more parentheticals than me (and that’s a lot) plus you remind me of my Goth friends from the UK by way of Canada. Same wry wit and beleaguered optimism. Have a Snakebite on me.
35 minutes and no Bye Felicia jokes yet? Sad face.
I was looking for them too
That base Sierra makes me recall that we did get a similar treatment on the side of the pond with the base Tempo. I swear I can see its quickly weathered plastic grill treatment in my mind. It was somehow both less and more tragic.
What’s the color of the Capri? No the Professionals silver, looks goth black, but I think they also could be had in dark blue and BRG, right?
Graphite Grey over Stratos Silver.
Regardless of how one thinks of the looks, always remember that the basic Sierra chassis is RWD. That cannot be said for any Tempo.
And then there was the black slatted grille of the ’86 Taurus L that made it as far as the launch brochure before being canceled in favor of giving it the upper-trim models’ bodycolored nose with small oval air opening around the Ford badge.
I’m also surprised Ford UK went with “Sierra Base” instead of “Sierra Popular”.
The apparent sheer spite of that would-be Taurus trim level cracks me up. “Here you cheap bastards, we’ve ruined the design of this car to give you the crap you’re used to buying. Happy now!?”
The crispy grass really helps sell the vibe.
It’s a 46 but, hey, who’s counting?
Who cares more like.
I do? I’m pretty sure I do. There are times when I’ve longed for the simplicity and cost-savings of that car’s version of the Variomatic, designed as it was to work with only a single belt, but then again there are times when I’ve reflected upon the incidents (yes, sadly, plural) of catastrophic belt failure in my 66 when the presence of its second belt made it possible for me to get home without being forced into the unpleasantness of attempting a roadside replacement. Either way, I care about the 46.
I’m sure the 45 is nice, too, just… different:
https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/55168877380_5eaa14f905_c.jpg
45, 46, whatever it takes.