Tonight - we have a race to Blackpool.
The new Lamborghini comes to our studio.
And at last, the Bugatti Veyron is on our track.
Thank you, thank you. Hello!
Hello and welcome.
Now, every week, either Richard or I
drive a preposterously fast car around our track,
but when it came to making this week's film, there was a problem.
Neither of us was available.
I'd hurt my neck in the lorry crash
and Richard was busy selling fish at Morrisons.
God help us.
When I arrived, the track was enveloped in typical British autumnalness.
Right, here we go. Top Gear test track. My patch for the day.
I've been very insistent with the office - I don't want to find some look-at-me,
two-door, Italian supercar
with a 250mph speedo and a £250,000 price tag or any of that rubbish.
I want to drive something more like, to be honest, some...
Some...
Oh, cock.
Surely not.
Well, since the choice is testing this or the Panda, I suppose it had better be this,
which is a Pagani Zonda.
And not just any old Zonda.
That is the Zonda F Roadster.
And in the already insane world of Pagani, this one has its own special padded cell.
Regular car - 555 horsepower. This one - 650. Let's try it out.
This may be my first Zonda, but it happens to be the fastest one we've ever tested.
The acceleration is so brutal!
I think my eyes have moved round the side of my head like a pigeon.
'I think I know what to do at this point.' Power-r-r-r!
This car is made entirely out of improbable numbers.
0 to 60 - 3.6 seconds. 0 to 120 - under 10 seconds.
And then, when you hit the carbon ceramic brakes...
..125mph to 0 in 4.4 seconds.
And my eyeballs are back in the correct position on the front of my face.
There is, though, one other number that dwarfs all of these, and it's the price.
It's £825,000.
Top Gear, bringing you credit crunch news on the hour.
But we haven't just brought this along to show you some high-priced hyper-porn.
You see, the F Roadster is the swansong for the current Zonda.
Next year, there'll be a brand-new one, but the original will always be a bit special to us.
You know when we brought Top Gear back to the telly in 2002,
the Zonda was the car we featured in the very first show,
and we liked it, but there was always that nagging feeling that,
"Here come another bunch of hopeless optimists who think they know better than Ferrari.
"Give them a year and they'll be down the dole office."
But it hasn't happened.
Pagani is still very much here still today, getting up Ferrari's nose.
Richard Hammond, who is 12, thinks it's because Pagani has captured that "mental market" -
the small boy's bedroom wall poster that used to be a Lamborghini.
It's got ridiculous bodywork and ray guns and switches from the lunar- module. And I think he's right.
But there is something else.
It's actually a very, very good car.
See, the entire shell is made out of naked carbon fibre...
..which makes you look a bit of an idiot, frankly, but it does mean it's very strong.
So strong that even when they've taken the roof off, it remains perfectly rigid.
In fact, the construction's so clever that it hasn't gained any weight
in becoming a convertible, and that's a rare thing.
The Pagani engineers do know what they're doing.
Which means we've come to that point- in the film where I have to go fast round a corner to prove it.
Turn it in...
TYRES SCREECH
Can we cut that bit out?
With a bit of practice, though, I did get the hang of it.
Dab of brakes, turn in...
You see?
And I'm told... I mean, I can report, that the F Roadster is pretty agile through the corners.
The office say they have another car- for me to try on the track,
but that I shouldn't worry because it's only a VW.
Funny(!)
The Bugatti Veyron, finally on our track,
and I'm gonna put it straight to work.
I believe the done thing at this point is to have a drag race,
so if nobody objects, we'll have one.
With these two.
Since I'd got my eye in with the Zonda, I took that.
The Veyron would be in the hands of the Stig, who wasn't here earlier.
On paper, this looks like a bit of a one-horse race, because the Veyron
is a full second quicker than this car to 60. 2.5 seconds, 3.5 seconds.
But you never know, he might mess up the start.
He didn't.
Crikey!
Despite weighing over half a ton more, the Veyron mullered the Zonda.
That is the power of power.
Now, I should really take that Veyron off Stiggy and drive it around a few corners,
but unfortunately, that would get in the way of what you, me
and everybody else in the world really wants to see,
which is him taking it for a lap.
Oh, yes.
Well done, you.
I wasn't kidding. I do actually mean it.
Later on in the show, after a wait of two years... Yeah.
the most powerful car in the world goes round our track.
It is gonna be quite a moment. It's gonna be up here somewhere.
But we've already had quite a moment - you, for the first time, out there.
How was it? Smooth as silk.
LAUGHTER
It's a piece of cake. Who here would like to see some of the out-takes of James...?
AUDIENCE: Yes! You would?
Let's play the tape somewhere.
Oh dear, that Chicago has gone wrong.
Here we go again, gone wrong.
And here we go again - it's gone wrong.
APPLAUSE
Thank you.
He is useless. Useless. What?!
The problem is... Mm? ..it's my hair.
No, it is. When you go through a corner, it blows in my face.
Yeah. But as soon as I put that helmet on, everything was absolutely fine.
LAUGHTER
I think it was that you stepped out of the Panda, into the Zonda,
which is like weaning a baby off breast milk and straight onto port.
I can't believe he got to drive that.
It is my all-time favourite supercar - it's that mixture of sheer lunacy and engineering.
You could've driven it.
You were given the choice - drive the Zonda or sell fish for a Northern supermarket.
You chose the fish. You can't seriously prefer the Zonda to the Bugatti.
I do, because the Zonda's got some pantomime to it. The Bugatti's- like sitting in a physics lesson.
Were you watching that drag race? Yes.
Did you see what the physics lesson- did to your pantomime dame? Yes.
It annihilated it. But if we could just listen - what's that I'm not hearing?
Anyone not hearing that?
Anybody else not hearing the Zonda being taken round the track by the Stig?
I wonder if it's got anything to do- with what happened when it arrived?
Here we go.
First corner, the very first corner,
and what's that coming out of the back?
It looks a bit like smoke.
Smoke! Yes, see? It's a proper supercar.
It didn't just go round like a robot and be boring.
It came to the track and exploded immediately.
That's what supercars do. It's proper!
Even as we speak, several stylish Italian mechanics
are looking at the engine in the Zonda, hoping they can coax some life into it,
and maybe, just maybe, later on, we'll be able to bring you a lap of that as well.
And then we'll see. Zonda versus Bugatti.
Then we'll sort it out.
Right, we've always thought there's- absolutely no reason for anyone to own a Peugeot. Hang on.
See?
Mmm...
No, anyone here got a Peugeot?
AUDIENCE RESPOND
Why?
Who said "yes"?
Why have you got a Peugeot?
It was given to me. It was given to you.
LAUGHTER
Damn, that's a reason!
What sort of Peugeot is it?
306. 306... HE MOUTHS
Lovely!
No, really, apart from being given one, I can't think of a reason.
Peugeot have decided to address this, and they think they have with this. It's the Partner Teepee.
LAUGHTER No, ah...!
Bear with me. Here's the reason.
They've fitted it with a roof box that goes inside, over the seats,
and they say it's ideal for storing long thin things in, like a surfboard.
So, what they're saying is,
if you are a surfer who wants a car with a loft you can keep your surfboard in...
Are there any surfers here? Yes? Who's a surfer?
Do you like to keep it dry?
How many surfers are there... "I don't like getting my surfboard wet".
It's just... It's not going well, is it.
No. Still no reason to own one.
But, Peugeot fans, this has a big brother called the Expert Teepee.
There it is.
Mmmm! No, no, no, no. Listen.
They say that this is designed for the three-children family,
where one child plays a drum kit, one plays a tuba and one plays the double bass.
They're not THAT specific about it... They are.
What sort of band are those kids in?
The National Youth Salvation Army Dixieland Jazz Band Orchestra of Great Britain, or something!
Though it's why is it called a Teepee that fascinates me.
The Americans are going to steal it- and let you build a casino where it used to be.
How much is it? Oh, I don't care.
If your sister gives you one of those, just say no!
You know Boris Johnson, Mayor of London?
I was driving behind a bus this week, and I took a photo of the message he's put on it.
This is from the Mayor of London.
It says, "Amazing! Changing gears at lower revs
"reduces your CO2 emissions and saves you money".
I was then reading GQ magazine, a road test of a Ferrari 430, and it says,
"The essence of it, in my view, is not to change up until you hit about 6,000 revs".
This was written by somebody called Boris Johnson.
Jeremy. Yeah. The slippers.
Yep. Are they a bet? Of course they're a bet.
Thank God for that.
Big news! Is it the Dacia Sandero?
No...
It's the European Car of the Year 2008 is...
the replacement for the Vauxhall Vectra.
Ladies and gentlemen, the Vauxhall Insignia.
You had to look that up then. I did. You forgot what it was called!
The weird thing is, the three of us were being driven around in one of these last week
and we didn't actually notice what it was.
Seriously, I was in that, back and forth to a show we were doing,
for three days, and I thought it was a Renault.
I can remember one thing about it - it had very hard seats.
Yes, it did. Ah!
You can't criticise those, because a German panel of seat experts... A what?
There's a German panel...? There's a German panel of seat experts.
And I've invited them all to your house for Christmas! Oh!
Where would you put them?! "Have a seat... No, stand up".
They have voted to give it their coveted accolade for the quality of the seats. That's rubbish.
It's like people that say you've got to eat natural yoghurt because it's good for you.
You get those people who say, "I like a hard bed, it's good for your spine". It isn't.
I hate hard beds. I do like a hard bed.
Sorry, Richard. Can anyone think of one thing in the world which is better hard than soft?
LAUGHTER That's quite awkward, actually.
What? Ice.
Ice. LAUGHTER
Ice? APPLAUSE
He got us out of it.
Thanks for getting us out of that one, mate. Can we move on, please?
Earlier on, we three were invited to switch on Blackpool's famous Christmas lights.
It's quite a big deal.
Look at the pantheon of greats who have had the call in the past.
Frank Bough, Ken Dodd, Danny La Rue, Cannon and Ball, and now us.
Problem is, it only takes one person to flick a light switch.
So, to decide which one of us would do that, the producers organised a race to Blackpool.
First one there would get their name in the history books.
Unfortunately, they decided that the starting point for this race
would be in Basel, which is here in Switzerland.
And that is 750 miles from the light switch.
And here's the tricky bit.
They said we could only use one tank of fuel.
We could fill our cars in Basel, but then the tanks would be sealed.
I thought it was a stupid idea. 750 miles on a tank?
That's 750 miles of careful driving.
That's not a race. It's my idea of hell.
It's actually my idea of heaven.
Anyway, we could use any production car we liked,
and we weren't allowed to modify it in any way.
Our meeting place was in the centre of Basel, the night before the off.
This is the car I'd chosen - a Subaru Legacy diesel.
Yes, it's a big four-wheel-drive estate, but it has a large fuel tank which gives good range.
And this is the car Jeremy had chosen, because he's an idiot.
An enormous twin-turbo Jaguar XJ6 TDVi.
0 to 60 - 7.8 seconds. Top speed - 141.
You're not trying to get to 60. You're trying to get to Blackpool.
There's no point.
Why? I've been explaining this to you for weeks.
We're not gonna be able to do it. If you're gonna fail,
you may as well fail in style and comfort.
'Whereas James would fail in a sea of noise.'
It's a boxer engine.
Yes. It's the worst diesel engine I've ever come across. It has no talk.
To rev the nuts off it in first, then when you go into second...
It's... I'd rather go to Blackpool in one of those horrible eco Volkswagen BlueMotion things.
That hideous little Polo? Yes, the three-cylinder.
Richard then arrived in a Polo BlueMotion.
What are you thinking of, man? Miles per gallon?
35?
50. Gonna ask me?
How many miles per gallon...? You see, this is a VW Polo... We know what it is!
It's one of the most economical cars money can buy. 74 miles per gallon.
It's an ordinary car underneath, but they've made it extra aerodynamic.
Tiny door mirrors so it cuts through the air with barely a ripple.
And a little, tiny boot spoiler. It's a very exciting car.
Three-cylinder, 1.4-litre diesel engine.
There it is! Look at that. Yeah, it's under...
Thanks(!) I've just saved you a little bit of weight. Wow!
If it's an eco car, why have they put that on it?
So that when you open your bonnet, when your mates are around,
they don't realise that you've got a PATHETIC three-cylinder...!
Yeah, yeah... Can I ask...? There's one other question.
You don't need that... There's one other question.
It kept cropping up when I was choosing my car.
How big is the fuel tank in this?
Ten gallons. Ten gallons. And it's...
74... ..74 miles to the gallon - 740-mile range. Yes.
How far's Blackpool? About... 750 miles, I think.
So, there you go.
Well, hang on a second. What can you expect?
Well, theoretical range, 706 miles.
Not far enough. No.
Jeremy... 655. I've told you - it's pointless.
It's a pointless challenge. On paper...
Nevertheless, in the very early hours of the following morning,
we assembled at a Swiss filling station to brim our tanks and make some final checks.
Richard made sure his tyre pressures were correct,
because if they were even slightly down, it could cost him 20 miles.
And I taped up my cracks.
This might only be worth 200 yards,
but the last bit of the journey is 200 yards long.
Jeremy, meanwhile, confident of failure, was having breakfast.
Those two are taking it so seriously.
One of the most important factors in economy runs is lightness,
which is why Jeremy and I had packed James's luggage.
Yeah, that's a paperweight, just in case.
You're really funny men(!)
But what if you need one of these? What if you need a wishbone?
If you run out of fuel and then a lorry driver needs a gearbox, you could give him one.
It's transaxle... You're spoiling an otherwise very interesting experiment.
Name one thing that's gonna happen today that is interesting.
We're about to do the impossible, and that feels good. Top Gear's always succeeding. Yeah! No.
With the tanks brimmed, the filler caps were sealed with impenetrable gaffer tape,
and then at exactly 11 minutes past 4, we were ready for the off.
This is it. I'm not gonna start the car until the last minute.
That has to be the dullest start to any Top Gear race, ever...
In fact, any race in history.
I don't know if you were looking forward to Top Gear tonight,
but, you know, there'll be something else on somewhere.
In fact, there was only one man in Europe
looking forward to 17 hours of mental arithmetic.
60 miles per gallon, my average so far over 5.1 miles has gone up to 50.
Clarkson needs to average 44.7...
But before you switch over to Heartbeat, consider this.
This is a very clever race, because there's that balance between getting there,
so that means efficient driving,
and speed, because there's no point getting there
when James has already said, "I declare these lights on".
Weirdly, we'd all chosen different ways
of getting from Basel to the Channel.
Richard had opted for the shortest route,
through towns, villages,
and worst of all, the Vosges mountains.
But this didn't seem to worry him.
If there's the odd hill, it doesn't- matter, cos you've got to go up,
but then you've got to come down again.
It'll average out as downhill.
My route, past Strasbourg and Metz,
was 30 miles further than Hammond's,
but there's fewer hills
and, hopefully, less traffic.
Thinking ahead is what it's about.
Planning so that I don't brake unnecessarily.
Because what is not understood is that braking effectively wastes fuel.
It turns the kinetic energy of the car into heat...
As James did science,
Jeremy was heading in the wrong direction.
He'd elected to stick to the motorways,
which meant his route was 836 miles -
almost 200 more than the Jag could do.
And that means I'll run out more quickly, and then I'll just check into a little pub,
have a juicy steak and go to sleep.
You may have noticed there that I was wearing a high-visibility jacket.
The French recently, and very quietly, introduced a law
saying you've got to have one of these in your car at all times.
Maybe we should introduce a law saying you've got to have onions in the boot of your car,
don't announce it, and then fine every French person who arrives in Dover without any.
As we drove through the darkness, my pessimism began to spread.
Average 64.6 - that's not enough.
It's just not enough, I won't do it.
Instant fuel consumption went down from 65mpg to 52, and that's not good enough.
No, it's uphill. Oh, God.
I, however, was delighted, because I'd just worked out
that if I went fast enough, I could conk out on the M40,
just a few minutes from my house.
Range,
605 miles.
That's perfect!
That meant I could spend my time wondering which of my colleagues
would be best suited to switching on Blackpool's fairy lights.
Think about it - Danny La Rue, Ken Dodd, Cannon, Ball, Hammond.
It has a ring.
Dawn broke over our dreary race.
I'm doing 55 miles per gallon.
It's not good enough. Relax.
I'm tensing up. OK, relax.
Hammond won't be able to do this. Too angry.
I'm on an economy drive, saving the planet,
and you, in your bus, with nobody in it, made me slow down.
I had to use my brakes, and then I've got to accelerate again, which uses more fuel.
I, too, was having problems in the Jag.
How can a V6 twin-turbo,
in a car that's 375 yards long,
possibly be doing
49 miles to the gallon?
49.1!
It's going up!
At this rate, I'd be running out near Birmingham rather than on my doorstep.
It was therefore time to break out the heavy foot.
There we go.
Don't want to get it too hot, because I'm not going to put the air-conditioning on.
Some people calculate that it can reduce your efficiency by about 10%.
That's fine by me, mate.
I've got everything on. Air-conditioned seats...
I'm even heating the passenger seat- for no good reason,
other than to burn fuel.
'Despite being in France, I even powered up the radio.'
MAN SINGS IN FRENCH
After three hours, the little Polo was off the A-roads and on the motorway.
I was a few miles ahead of hyper-miler May...
69 miles per gallon!
..but way behind hyper-spacer Clarkson.
81 miles an hour.
Amazingly, my car was now doing 78mpg,
but I had a new problem.
My average mpg now is enough.
I can make it. But my average speed, I won't make it in time.
Hammond. 'Hello?' I'm bored!
What are your figures? Tell me your numbers. Average speed...
'Yes?' 63.
Wow! That's immense.
What's yours?
Not good. 34. You're not gonna make Blackpool till about Sunday.
That's the problem I have there.
'And what's your predicted range of your car?'
It says I'm gonna be out of fuel
in 450 miles.
Blackpool - 669 miles away.
'Frankly, it didn't look like any of us were going to be turning on the lights that night.'
One, two.. Ladies and gentlemen, all the way from BBC Two's Top Gear,
please welcome...nobody.
Meanwhile, many miles to the north, the people of Blackpool
to their big day, unaware that us three wouldn't be there.
However, having known all along that this was a possibility,
the show's producers had sent backup.
Six hours into the journey, and thanks to some careful driving,
all our cars were starting to hit their targets.
Overall fuel consumption - 68 miles per gallon. That is excellent.
74.9mpg, I'm averaging now.
That is bang-on what I should be doing.
Fuel is burning away...
..29 miles to the gallon.
The only problem was boredom, and that was made worse by a phone call from James.
'I just did a bit more mental calculations looking at the statistics for the cars.'
Luckily you're breaking up, James.
'I said I've done little bit more...the cars...'
For the one viewer we have left who now isn't watching Midsomer Murders?
I may have been bored, but at least I didn't need the loo.
I'm quite desperate for a pee.
In Blackpool, though, our man on the ground wasn't bored at all.
Eight hours into my doomed run, and- I was now bearing down on Calais.
Hammond is currently 30 miles behind me,
and he's dropping back at the rate of about 20 seconds a mile.
He might make Blackpool tomorrow.
'Jeremy was right. I might have been getting almost 80mpg,
'but what was the point?'
So, I'm gonna spend a bit more fuel- to get there on time.
So, let's bring that average fuel consumption down, and average speed up.
This is a race.
'The only problem was, someone else- had had the same idea.'
Richard Hammond! No! No!
It's neck and neck, ladies and gentlemen.
'I, too, thought it was time to trade fuel for speed,
'and so began the dullest duel in history.'
No, me instant mpg... Mustn't just put my foot down.
No, it's plummeting. 49.
That fuel gauge...
I've got a third of a tank to get from Folkestone to Blackpool.
Why am I bothering? Why don't you just have lunch?
'Half-an-hour behind Jeremy...' Bonjour.
'..our spine-tingling race had ended- in a dead heat at the toll booth.'
What a miserable cow.
On the train, Hammond saved weight by emptying his bladder, while I went even further.
Are you going anywhere near London? Yeah, Wimbledon.
Do you mind awfully taking this wheel?
Only it's quite heavy and I'm trying- to save fuel, and I think that could make 0.2 mile per gallon.
As they waited to depart, I arrived back in Blighty, took off
my high-visibility jacket and set the finish line firmly in my sights.
Dover to North Oxfordshire on a third of a tank.
Sounds about right.
Air-con on, cool seats on, radio on.
RADIO: 'The Blackpool illuminations get switched on this evening by the hosts of BBC Two's Top Gear,
'Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond and James May. Do you think they're racing there now?'
I don't think so, Steve! I don't think any of us will be doing it.
APPLAUSE
And we'll find out what happens later on.
But now, if you've always fancied a supercar
but you need space to carry stuff like children, luggage, a hat,
maybe a pencil, your only choice has been this, the four-door Maserati Quattroporte.
Now though, Porsche and Aston Martin- are thinking along similar lines to that, and then there is this.
This is the Lamborghini Estoque.
This is not actually a real car yet, it's just a model.
And Lamborghini say if they do make it, it could have a diesel.
I don't think so.
Or, a hybrid engine.
I don't think so.
Or maybe the V10 from the new Gallardo. That's more likely, I think.
Whatever engine it is, it will go here at the front.
And that means there is room for a proper boot at the back,
and more importantly, there is room in here for four people.
And it's not one of those supercars with seats in the front and token seats in the back.
It really is massive. Have a look at the legroom back there.
Do you know what I love about this most of all?
They haven't fallen into the same trap that Porsche fell into with the off-roader, the Cayenne.
Because that, they've got a supercar, 911 nose on the front,
and an ordinary car on the back. You go, "Wow, it's Kate Moss."
Then you look down the side, "Oh, no, it's got John Prescott's arse."
This... From every angle it just gets better looking.
It's just staggering. Please make it. Anyway.
We've got to leave this alone, sadly,
because it is now time to put a star in our reasonably priced car.
What can I say about my guest tonight?
Born on 4th July, Top Gun, Days Of Thunder,
he has watched them all.
Ladies and gentlemen, Harry Enfield.
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
Harry! Hello.
Are you very well? I'm very well. Good to see you.
Now, can I just say, because I don't think many people will
remember this - Harry was the first- guest we ever had on new Top Gear.
And you came back!
Yeah. There's a story to that.
Which is? Which is that when I came- on, I did the round in the car,
the reasonably priced car, I didn't- really realise it was a competition.
And so I did the lap, and The Stig said "You can take a few seconds off if you do it again,"
and I said "No, I want my lunch."
So you put your stomach in front of your pride.
I think it was a 2.01.
Two minutes and one seconds.
Biblically slow. Yeah. But you see I didn't realise.
I thought as long as I was in the car going "Ooh, eeeh," then that would be good television.
And it turned out that my son who is now 11, Archie, and my daughter,
Poppy, they watch your shows and then they come through all the time and go "Dad, Dad!
"Jeremy's being horrible about you again!"
So you're coming back now to try and... And you took the piss out of my cars too.
Why wouldn't I? I have to say... I had a... I had a...
You went, "And look at this car!
"This is Harry's car, when he became Loadsamoney."
And they took off the thing and it was a Vauxhall Cavalier convertible, which I thought was fine,
and all the men with wigs in the audience went "hehehehehehe".
LAUGHTER
So, you were back recently with Paul Whitehouse.
Fantastic to see you back together again in Harry and Paul, which I think
was the funniest thing I'd ever seen on television,
and I'm not saying that to blow smoke up your bottom.
I really did think it was. That's very kind of you, Jeremy.
Didn't Johnny Depp once say the finest actor he's ever seen was Paul Whitehouse?
Yeah, it was. Not you. No, it was Paul Whitehouse and not me.
And I think he's right.
I think Paul Whitehouse is one of the finest actors. I do, too. And you're the second finest.
Although I have to say there was one target that you picked on...
I don't know what you're talking about.
I do know what I'm talking about. I thought it was quite mean. He picked on me!
And we even have a clip of him picking on me which the producer thinks you need to see. Here it is.
Hello.
I'm on an island, and not just any island.
Because this island is Clarkson Island.
And unlike any other island,
Clarkson Island has the greatest number of Clarksons in the world.
Come on now, Clarksy.
We have to clip them twice a year.
Otherwise their woolly hair gets clogged up with all the BLEEP that comes out of their mouths.
APPLAUSE
It's very funny.
My son watches that every hour.
Watches that? Yeah. "Dad, you're on again!
"Well, not you, there's a lot of BLEEP coming out of your mouth, Dad!"
And you didn't get "in the world" right.
Oh. Yes, I did. No. You have to say this is the fastest car...
The pause is everything.
..in the world. There, you see? That's how you do it.
APPLAUSE
Much too quick.
That was the best "in the world".
No! That was the best...
..in the world. No!
You're coming too soon, Enfield.
You are very good actor. Do you have to work at impersonations? No.
You don't? Cos Rory Bremner spends hours and weeks and months.
Well, that's why he's really good and I'm not very good.
You're doing yourself down.
Look at Clarkson there.
I don't even look like you. He had dark hair. You've got grey hair.
You once said when you started there was no comedy -
well, comedy for the working classes was patronising
and it was all Cambridge Footlights. Do you still think that?
It used to be. It used to be crap sitcoms for the working classes.
Yeah. Bum titty wee-wee. Yeah, that kind of things. Ooh, madam.
And then there was Footlights for the upper classes and nothing in between.
And I think when we started, we just tried to do
family characters, but they were a bit more intelligent. I think.
One of the things I loved was that there was an assumption of knowledge.
It was sort of deliberately excluding the stupid.
If you didn't know what the Sicilian Defence was in chess, you didn't get one of the jokes.
We've got to an age where we just thought, OK, we're going to do
what we want to do and we'll find it funny, and I think it sort of helped our relationship, too.
We genuinely enjoyed what we were doing with each other,
rather than just spouting lines that we thought everyone would like.
I want to talk about cars, if I may. Oh yeah, let's talk about cars.
Let's do that. The last time you were on...
Is BLEEP really a swear word?
I thought it just meant bad driver.
I get called it a lot, you see.
We recommended... Sorry,
yes, cars. When you were last here,- we recommended you bought a Volvo XC90.
Yeah, I bought one and I had for three years, and then
Ken Livingstone said it was just above the limit and he was going to- charge £25 a day for us to drive it.
So I swapped it in for a V70.
So do you go down to Cornwall in your Volvo? Yes, we go down to Cornwall in our V70.
Prince Harry, Prince whatever he's called, the other one. William.
They're all down there, yeah. Come on, Mungo. There's a lot of that.
Do you go to Rock? Yeah, we do, yeah.
I go surfing. And occasionally the Daily Mail bloody get me.
Cos I've got a paunch, you see.
When you're in a wetsuit, you look really, really stupid.
And they always get me on the... and there's the surfaceboard,
about that much, the wave is about that big and you can see the sand at the bottom. I'm like that.
Anyway, your lap. OK. It means a lot to me, this lap, because I've been so disgraced in the past.
Unfortunately from your point of view, there was a camera down at the Hammerhead when you approached.
Who'd like to see that? Yes.
We've never seen anybody ever go off at the Hammerhead. Jonathan Ross got lost at the Hammerhead.
We've never seen this before. Here we go.
Coming up now, heavy braking. Too much understeer. No!
Oh.
Oh! A small gift. Oh, thank you very much.
The problem is that James May is flying his plane home
from that airfield tonight, and now- you've removed the landing lights which means he will be killed.
So well done again for that.
Thank you. Who would like to see Harry's lap?
Yes! Come on, let's have a look at the real one. Here it is.
And we're off. Look, a serious face.
I'm determined to beat my crap record.
Steady. Is that all right?
It's steady and accurate. Does that mean slow? No, that's wild, actually.
Ooh, that was quite fun.
The Stig did say you don't have much feel for the car. Oh...
I think I hit the brake about here.- Woof.
Yes, here we go. Are you going to manage to get round it this time?
You're certainly ambitious with your speed there, Harry. That's for sure.
I must remember this is a family show, must not swear.
Stupid BLEEP!
You can't put that out. Yes, we can.
Ooh! Look at that! Whoa!
Now you're getting up some speed.
That's a very good line through there. And this is nearly good.
And there he is, across the line!
Well, here we are. Last time you were here, in the old car which was- slower than that, you did a 2.01.
Brian Cox did it in the new car.
Where would you like to go?
I'd like to go just above Jay Kay.
I did say to my son, surely it'll be more comedy
if I was even worse than last time. He said "No, Dad.
"No, Dad."
Archie,
you were 2.01 last time. OK, Archie?
One... he's already happy!
Yay! LAUGHTER
40...
9.7.
There you go, ladies and gentlemen.
You're in there.
You're in that area. Ron Wood.
Ronnie Wood!
I'm really pleased with that.
You are pleased? Yeah, I beat Steve Coogan. Cos he likes cars.
He's always in cars. And not only did you beat Steve Coogan, you are by far our most improved guest.
Ladies and gentlemen, Harry Enfield!
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
Tonight, we are having a race from Basel in Switzerland to Blackpool.
First one there gets the honour of switching on the town's famous illuminations.
Unfortunately we only had one tank of fuel, which meant we could drive
slowly, conserve petrol, but run the- risk of not getting there on time, or we could drive a bit more quickly
but then run the risk of not getting there at all. James and I were taking it very seriously.
When we left the action we were here, waiting for our Channel Tunnel train to set off.
Jeremy meanwhile had decided the whole thing was impossible.
He'd chosen a big Jag, driven through France like a loony,
caught an earlier train than us and was hoping to run out of fuel as soon as he could.
Finally, the producers had sent The Stig on ahead to Blackpool as a stand-in in case none of us made it.
'With just over seven hours till the big switch-on, James and I were spat out of the Eurotunnel.'
Rush-hour, Friday night, over 300 miles to do.
I've got enough fuel.
Well, just. 295 miles,
the computer's telling me.
The fuel gauge would suggest there's not more than a quarter of the tank left.
Which means three and a half gallons. It doesn't sound like enough to me.
It's gonna be quite exciting.
Richard and I were close together, but soon we'd split,
as once again we'd all chosen different routes.
Hammond would use the M1 and the M6,
whereas I would go all the way up the M1 to Leeds and then over the M62.
This was 34 miles further, but I'd miss the notorious M6 traffic jams.
Jeremy, meanwhile was using the M40,- because it goes past his house.
Chipping Norton here I come.
Phone my wife, tell her I'll be home earlier than expected.
'James and I could just about make it, and make it on time, as long as we didn't hit traffic.'
Ah, what the hell is that?
I'm losing out on time and fuel.
My estimated time of arrival is now slipping again, so it's 45 minutes it's moved already.
Engine running, not going anywhere. No miles per gallon.
In Blackpool, people were starting to arrive for the celebrations.
Our man on the ground was preparing by having an afternoon nap.
'After two hours and much wasted fuel, Richard and I were finally on the M1,
'where we would soon go our separate ways.'
If I'm going to get the Blackpool spangly jacket, I have to pray that Hammond gets stuck
for about three-quarters of an hour in bad traffic around Birmingham.
'My mind, however, was only fixed on Jeremy.'
He must be out of fuel by now.
He must be. Surely the gods of economy will punish him.
'And then the phone rang.'
Are you at the side of the road yet? No.
Stupid thing is still working.
How is it doing that? It's not possible.
I'm 15 minutes from home.
I can smell my bed. Hammond, I'm so close. Stop!
Stop now. Cough. Cough.
Die. Die now!
Bad luck, mate. Soldier on.
I love that Jag.
I love it so very much.
Because all it can do now is take him further from home.
Yeah.
'The irritating fact was that after 660 miles
'of abusive and wasteful driving, the big twin-turbo Jag was telling me it still had 135 miles to go.'
Right, if I'm in this competition, I'm in it to win it. Air-con off.
'Now all of us thought we'd be making the speech that night.'
Good folk of Blackpool, it's a delight, an honour and a pleasure.
It gives me great pleasure to be here tonight to turn on your world famous illuminations.
I declare these lights...on.
I'd had a good lead over the others but on the M42, trouble.
RADIO: '..On the motorways. Caravans- overturning on that stretch.'
That's what I'm stuck in.
People slowing down to look at a caravan. Rightly so.
I'd want to look at an overturned caravan. There's nothing funnier.
It's a big old queue.
Four miles of this speed.
Hammond's going to be right on my tail.
I might now try and catch him up,
only to find as I catch him up he runs out of diesel, but I've used up
all mine as well, so maybe I should- be prepared to go slower than him
and then overtake him when he runs out.
Kind of a hare and tortoise.
No, that's a stupid idea. I don't like it at all.
I'm gonna go fast.
The North. Excellent.
I'm probably about 130 miles away.
Computer says I can only do 90 miles.
James thought he had problems.
They were nothing compared to mine.
OK, I've now got an eighth of a tank to get me from Birmingham to Blackpool.
And then the news got worse.
Hammond. Where are you?
On the M6 toll. Where are you?
On the M6 toll.
HE LAUGHS
We've closed up. What's your speed?
70 at the moment. 70? The ridiculous thing is I've got twice as many
cylinders and twice as many turbos,- but I can't pull away from you.
Meanwhile, far, far away...
I can't believe it's gonna make it now. That petrol gauge is so low.
This is just appalling torture.
I'm just sitting here,
knowing that any minute now, Hammond is going to come by.
And then, disaster.
Here I come.
No! No, no!
No, no, no. Hammond!
I can't do anything about it!
PHONE RINGS
I've just seen somebody who
looks just like you in a Jaguar doing about 56 miles an hour.
I am not going to race you. Really?
No.
I am going to sit behind you and watch you fail.
'And with Blackpool still 60 miles away, Jeremy was more on the money than he realised.'
I'm now gonna run out of diesel 40 miles away from Blackpool according to this computer.
With James far behind, it was becoming a straight race between Hammond and me.
Both of us were running on fumes, but I was staggered the Jag had even got this far.
Because most of the way through France, I was doing 80 miles an hour.
I had the air-con on, the radio on, I was charging phones.
Most of the way through Britain, I was doing 70. It's been stop-start traffic.
I haven't been on an eco drive in this thing.
Since Birmingham, neither had I.
And now I was really paying the price.
The range computer has just ticked over to zero.
It's 36 miles to Blackpool.
It's telling me nothing.
Empty.
Hammond won't make it. James won't make it.
God, this is tense.
The fuel gauge says I'm about to run out.
Hypermiling techniques, gentle on the throttle, don't let it get to me. Stay calm.
17.4 miles to go. It's telling me I've got nothing left and I'm just waiting for that cough.
With the Stig baffled by human food- and with 30 minutes to go before
the big switch-on, I was agonising over mounting a charge on Hammond.
It's the stupidest, cleverest race ever.
I could easily beat him if I just put my foot down, but I don't know how much fuel is left in that tank.
I love economy races.
My final exit.
I'm just doing everything I can. Jeremy's behind. I know he's taking it easy.
He's not gonna take it that easy, because...he's Jeremy.
So, with 10 miles to go, my range has finally reached 0.
But still the magic Jag soldiers on. And I've picked my speed up to 70.
The race is on.
'The question was, could I catch him in time?'
I'm four miles away.
Come on.
I can see Blackpool Tower!
Oh, this is nerve-racking.
If it dies now, it'll be too much to bear.
Range, 0. Fuel gauge, really empty.
All I need now is to see a little Volkswagen Polo with a little man sobbing his eyes out next to it.
Resetting trip computer B for this fast stretch.
Hello? I'm still moving. No, no!
And I'll tell you something else.
What? I've got about two miles left- to go, but even better than that, I have a police escort.
You are having me on!
One mile and I'm still moving.
I've got nothing left at all.
Oh, yes! I think I could be there!
So Hammond had won.
Single most tense thing I've ever done.
Less than a minute later, I arrived too. I have made it.
Hello, everybody.
They appear to be cheering my Jag.
And James May hasn't come.
He doesn't like you. He doesn't like anybody in the north.
Congratulations.
The world's second most economical car! It's astonishing.
How you kept that... I thought, there's no way he can do it.
There were just seconds to go before the lights were switched on.
Five. Four.
Would James make it in time?
53.7 miles per gallon average.
I'm looking for 56.5...
No, he wouldn't.
Three, two, one!
Pull the lever.
You won the race. No, you should...
Well done, you.
All of that and then The Stig stole my big moment. I can't believe he did it.
Yeah, well, some say he has no understanding of queueing.
Can I just say - in case any of you are interested - I did actually make it to Blackpool.
Yes, you did, James, 40 minutes after the ceremony was over.
OK, I did make the mistake of going too slowly, but nevertheless, I got 63 miles to the gallon out of that.
It is amazing. I got 80 miles to the gallon out of that.
I want to know why would anybody buy a Prius when this is seven grand less and it uses less fuel?
I did 17 hours in it and when I got out the other end, I wasn't even tired.
We have to acknowledge though, that the true hero of this whole piece is that Jaguar.
Couldn't agree more, and it's better than you might think, because we examined the fuel tank
when we got to Blackpool and found there was enough left in it to do another 120 miles!
If you think about it, 53 miles to the gallon, 18.7 gallon fuel tank, that's a range of 1,000 miles.
1,000 miles between trips to the pumps.
And let's not forget, the engine in this was the same engine that was in
the S-Type that took me around the Nurburgring in less than ten minutes. It is an amazing car.
It's just incredible.
Anyway, look... Yes, go.
It's time to find out how fast the Bugatti Veyron goes around our track.
That means, of course, handing it over to our tame racing driver.
Some say...
he has a stripy top just like mine. Oh, come on, James.
You really didn't fool anybody with that. Not fooled anyone.
No, this really is a big moment.
A properly, properly big moment.
In a few moments, we probably will have a new leader on our power lap board.
The Bugatti Veyron. Let's find out.
And he is off.
Massive seamless traction off the line.
Massive seamless power from the double clutch gearbox.
Look at the air brake working there.
That produces more stopping power than the brakes on a normal car.
Four-wheel drive grip keeping it in line.
Look at this.
Cornering flat through Chicago.
No drama, apart from that tyre squeal.
Hammerhead. There's the A brake again.
Listen to the noise this thing makes.
Right, now the Stig can really wind up all 16 cylinders, all four turbos, all 987 horsepower.
Come on, Stig. Come on.
This is important.
Just two corners left. Hard on the brakes again.
Little bit of a wiggle.
Come on, Stig. Greatest piece of car engineering ever.
Can it be the fastest round our track?
Glides it through Gambon and across the line.
It just looks so composed. There's no drama in that thing.
OK, everyone.
This is it. This is the moment that really every
motoring enthusiast in the world has been looking forward to for years.
Has the Veyron topped our board? Is it quicker than the Gumpert?
1.17.1.
Well, it did it in 1...
..18.3.
It's the fourth fastest.
I think it's too heavy to put in the really, really fast time.
I have to be honest, I'm surprised it wasn't quickest. I have to be honest with that.
What? Chaps. Yes?
The Zonda F,
was it fixed in time to do a lap? Yes, it was.
Can we see that now, please? Yes, we can. Good.
Are we ready, ladies and gentlemen, to see the Zonda? Yes!
OK, play the tape. And he's off.
A lot of wheelspin there, because, of course, the Zonda is only two-wheel drive.
Remember, this roadster has 50 horsepower more than the coupe.
So can it beat the hard-top's time?
1.18.4. Still smoke, look.
Here's Chicago.
Looking a bit lively through there and lively on the exit too.
This car can be vicious.
But in an amusing way, like a shark in a funny hat.
Getting a little bit sideways around Hammerhead. More smoke as well.
Careful, Stig, don't break it again!
He really is wringing out that Mercedes V12 now.
Come on, into the second to last corner.
It does... It looks good, I have to say. Then through Gambon.
Massive slide and across the line.
Ready?
It did it... Yes? You really think it'll be faster, don't you?
God, yes. Yes.
It did it in 1... Well, yes!
17.8! So straight away, it's above!
Oh, yeah.
So the mighty science lesson here
enjoyed literally a minute as the fourth fastest car on our lap board, and then
it was knocked off by the Zonda F, the pantomime horse of a supercar.
Do you know what this means?
It means that for the first time ever, we really can end on a bombshell. See you next week.
Thanks for watching. Good night!
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