Erhalten Sie Zugang zu diesem und mehr als 300000 Büchern ab EUR 5,99 monatlich.
It was brash and it was loud – the 1980s put paid to the glumness of the '70s and nowhere was that more obvious than in the cars we drove, which took a quantum leap in durability, performance, equipment and style. They had to: Japanese quality and European design were luring away ever more customers. Features such as fuel injection, turbochargers, computer-controlled systems and four-wheel drive became commonplace. This was also the decade that brought us the people-carrier and the off-roader, new classes of car that radically reshaped family transport. Meanwhile, seatbelt-wearing became law, the M25 opened, speed cameras appeared and ram-raiding was the new motoring nemesis. Relive everything car-related in Britain in the 1980s with Giles Chapman.
Sie lesen das E-Book in den Legimi-Apps auf:
Seitenzahl: 160
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016
Das E-Book (TTS) können Sie hören im Abo „Legimi Premium” in Legimi-Apps auf:
First published 2014
The History Press
The Mill, Brimscombe Port
Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG
www.thehistorypress.co.uk
This ebook edition first published in 2016
All rights reserved
© Giles Chapman, 2014
The right of Giles Chapman to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
EPUB ISBN 978 0 7509 8064 7
Typesetting and origination by The History Press
eBook converted by Geethik Technologies
You may not have even noticed it, but many of the cars in this book are no longer around in large numbers. See a Citroën Visa, an Audi 100, a Fiat Uno or a Nissan Bluebird in a supermarket car park and it’ll stop you in your tracks.
The 1980s was certainly the era when interest in classic cars soared. But while we were busy celebrating old favourites from the 1950s and ’60s, we never bothered to think that popular modern models would, some day, be just as fascinating. So once our ’80s cars – with their plastics and early digital displays and electric gadgets – had passed through several households, lost a few functions and, finally, flunked their MoT tests, it was off to the scrapyard and an eventual smelting. No doubt the same careless fate will befall cars from subsequent decades.
Yet no matter what your personal experience of the ’80s, it was an extremely important and vibrant time for the car industry. If you were a high performance freak, then it was the era of turbochargers, multi-valve engines and hot hatchbacks, and the insane idea that a production car could exceed 200mph. Then again, if you were more concerned with fuel efficiency then it was a time when diesel cars gained huge significance. The rapid spread of four-wheel drive and anti-lock brakes were to the safety benefit of all drivers, while the gradual introduction of airbags made cars much less dangerous for occupants.
The car market settled into a soon-familiar pattern of sectors that every major player had to adhere to: compact superminis like the Peugeot 205, family hatchbacks exemplified by the Ford Escort MkIII, mid-range saloons such as Vauxhall’s Cavalier, executive cars where the BMW 5 Series excelled, and luxury saloons typified by the Mercedes-Benz S Class and Jaguar XJ6. Sports cars went mid-engined and many apparently different cars started to share identical hidden ‘platforms’.
But there were intriguing new classes of car generating huge interest: first the people-carrier and later the four-wheel drive sport-utility vehicle.
You’ll find all these cars, and many others, in this unique celebration of 1980s motoring. You’ll also relive the introduction of unleaded petrol, the opening of the M25, the ongoing battle to dominate the sales chart, the way the Audi Quattro redefined the supercar, and how the route was paved for the British driver in the 1990s. Mostly, though, this book highlights the attainable cars we loved in the rollercoaster ’80s, and will re-acquaint you with many of the models that, perhaps, you’d forgotten about – and probably won’t have even seen for a good few years. We begin in the very late 1970s, when several ’80s classics were just emerging. Turn the page to fire up the first one.
Citroën’s entrée into the supermini class was a welcome extension of choice for anyone needing a compact, cheap-to-run little car. This was an unusual contender because only a five-door layout was offered – very useful with that hatchback opening right down to bumper level. Revealed in autumn 1978, Visas arrived at Britain’s Citroën dealers in spring 1979.
Something else setting the car apart from the herd was its choice of two- or four-cylinder engines. The raucous, air-cooled flat-twin had a slightly bigger capacity, 652cc, than in the Dyane and 2CV and, although it could muster only 35bhp, it meant a Visa could be maintained on a shoestring.
The four-cylinder engine, meanwhile, was a water-cooled 1.1- or 1.2-litre unit, and it betrayed the Visa’s roots because it was shared with the Peugeot 104. In fact, the whole car was based around a 104 floorpan and running gear to save costs. This certainly watered down Citroën’s usual idiosyncratic character – the Visa had conventional springs in its suspension, rather than a complex hydropneumatic system. It was the beginning of the end, really, for the marque’s independent engineering flair.
WHAT THEY SAID AT THE TIME
‘The Visa is an amalgam of Citroën and Peugeot components, but the result is pure Citroën. Its flat-twin 650cc engine endows it with only a moderate performance, but ride, accommodation and refinement are virtues.’
Motor magazine in October 1979 on the £2,950 Visa Club.
Couldn’t be anything other than a Citroen, even though it was based on the Peugeot 104. This is a 1979 Visa Super.
Externally, though, the Visa was unmistakeably Citroën, with its aerodynamic frontage, semi-concealed rear wheels and single-spoke steering wheel and drum controls rather than stalks on the column. In the early 1980s came a gutsy 1.7-litre diesel engine, a novel convertible with a peel-back roof, and a boxy van edition, the C15, which was on sale until 2005 … out-living its passenger-carrying sisters by an incredible seventeen years!
Idiosyncratic controls featured a single-spoke steering wheel and fingertip-operated functions on drums rather than stalks.
WHO LOVED IT?
Budget-conscious French motorists wanted something more modern than the Citroën 2CV and Renault 4, and they found it here. A stratum of British car buyers liked the highly practical Visa, too, although the zany interior was off-putting to many.
Conventional, large family cars remained the most popular choices among Britain’s drivers, and the Cortina, Cavalier and their ilk had a deadly serious new rival in the smooth shape of this new Renault, first on British sale in spring 1979.
Instead of French quirks, it offered all-round competence. The interior was spacious and stylish, there was a new 1.4-litre engine with a plucky 64bhp for the starter versions, and pliant MacPherson strut front suspension. The TS and GTS came with a 1.6-litre engine and four- or five-speed gearboxes respectively.
In very short order, a diesel engine option, an estate derivative, and a 2.0-litre executive model were added, but the most interesting spin-off was the Turbo, on sale in 1981. Renault pioneered turbocharging in Formula 1 racing in 1977 and now the 18 Turbo was turned into its first turbocharged production car. The Garrett T3 turbo was attached to a 1.6-litre engine to put 125bhp of power at the driver’s disposal. There was a five-speed gearbox, power steering, wacky-looking alloy wheels and a tail spoiler. It was a 120mph car but, with all that urge going to the front wheels, a bit unruly in slippery conditions.
WHAT THEY SAID AT THE TIME
‘The Renault feels quick on the road, with few concessions needing to be made by the driver because of the diesel engine. Starting from cold is about the only time that the diesel really makes itself known.’
Motor magazine in August 1981 on the £5,595 18 TD.
The Renault 18 was France’s riposte to the Cortina, a thoroughly modern ‘conventional’ four-door saloon.
Renault had a real hit on its hands, with well over 2 million 18s sold up to 1986. Its popularity extended well beyond Europe as the car was produced at ten different sites around the world. It was a worthy successor to the Renault 12 but, like that equally conventional but anonymous car, it’s somewhat forgotten today.
The unusual alloy wheels, side rubbing strips and tail spoiler mark this one out as the 125bhp 18 Turbo.
A Renault 18 estate with optional built-in roof rack bars; this and the saloon were briefly very popular in Britain.
WHO LOVED IT?
For the Brits, the 18 was spot-on, and sales were huge by Renault standards. In fact, it was the first Renault ever to enter the British top ten bestsellers’ list, slipping in at No. 10 for 1980 with 30,958 examples sold. That was its peak popularity, but it was a fairly common sight on our roads.
In its several decades of existence – sadly, the marque went bankrupt in 2012 – Saab produced thoughtfully designed cars that made surprisingly good alternatives to mainstream models. With its 99 model of 1967, it forged a reputation for safety, quality and – after it added a turbocharger in 1977 – performance and prestige.
Trouble was, ranged against the resources of Mercedes-Benz, BMW and even our own Rover, Saab had to find ingenious ways to compete. And so it was when it came to replacing the much-loved 99.
Unable to afford a new car from the ground up, Saab instead used the existing passenger compartment of the 99, with its amazingly panoramic windscreen, and extended the wheelbase by 2in. To meet US crash laws, a longer nose was added, and an elongated tail section balanced it, creating a cavernous luggage space. With myriad other detail updates, the 900 was born, and went on sale in 1979.
WHAT THEY SAID AT THE TIME
‘When the turbo starts to take effect (at about 2,500rpm), it’s stunning. There’s an exhilarating surge of acceleration, amply demonstrated by the 50–70mph times in top.’
Motor magazine in October 1979 on the £9,910 900 Turbo three-door.
The worthy 900 became a potent executive express in turbo guise; notice the panoramic, wraparound windscreen.
Saab did a marvellous job of turning its 900 into a spacious convertible, with chic looks and a brilliant quality soft-top.
WHO LOVED IT?
The 900 Turbo was a cult performance car that cut it with the liveliest offerings from sporting makes like BMW and Alfa Romeo. This image broadened out the whole 900 range away from a few doctors, architects and other middle-class professionals and into the executive car mainstream.
With two-, three-, four- and five-door variations, and eventually a two-door convertible, there was plenty of bodystyle choice, but all 900s used incarnations of the same Saab 2.0-litre four-cylinder engine, driving the front wheels. The car’s excellent, surefooted handling was truly exploited with the turbocharged engine option, reusing waste exhaust gases to boost engine power from 110bhp to 145bhp; that leapt to 175bhp when the engine went 16-valve in 1984.
All 900s offered extremely comfortable seats, logical controls, and Saab-invented headlamp wipers. Their resistance to decay and owner abuse was a strong suit. Somehow, with the Vauxhall Cavalier-based range that replaced them in 1993, the unique 900 character was lost.
The four-door saloon version of the 900, here in Turbo form, still had folding rear seats for plenty of potential cargo space.
Those fastidious engineers at Mercedes’ HQ in Stuttgart really pushed the boat out for this super-saloon. The all-new S-Class took a quantum leap forwards in terms of innovation, technology, power and style.
The star attraction among the car’s line-up of features was the fitting, from 1981, of the world’s first standard-equipment driver’s airbag – this had been optional on a few American cars since the 1970s, but Mercedes’ adoption of the life-saving technology began the process of making airbags standard equipment on every new car. Less significant but perhaps more useful in everyday driving were Merc’s first polyurethane plastic bumpers.
The superb straight-six and all-alloy V8 engine range extended from 2.8 to 5.0 litres, so no S-Class was exactly a fuel-sipper. Manual transmission was available, but almost all these saloons and long-wheelbase limos came with the excellent Mercedes-Benz four-speed automatic gearbox.
WHO LOVED IT?
Every successful businessman the world over wanted an S-Class, and if things went extremely well then that’s what he plumped for. The worlds of London showbiz and the diplomatic community sponged up the rest of an always restricted and fully priced British market allocation.
Mercedes had a few surprises to spring on the luxury car world with its S-Class, including concealed windscreen wipers.
From 1981, the S-Class became the first production car with a driver’s airbag as standard, triggering an industry-wide trend.
However, as part of the extremely sleek and well-proportioned styling, Merc added novel wind-cheating features like the world’s first windscreen wipers that were concealed under the bonnet edge when idle, and little aerofoils on the door handles. With a drag co-efficient of just 0.36, this big, wedge-shaped saloon was, briefly, the world’s most aerodynamic production car, with wind noise in the already hushed interior cut to a minimum.
This S-Class remained the benchmark large luxury saloon of the 1980s, pretty much bar none. Little wonder, then, that these impressive cars were virtually depreciation-proof, such was the demand for them, although admittedly you had to be pretty loaded to afford one in the first place.
WHAT THEY SAID AT THE TIME
‘Strong performance, positive power steering and surefooted handling mean it is still a fine driver’s car but the low-speed ride and refinement fall slightly below the standards set by the Jaguar saloons.’
Motor magazine in October 1982 on the £18,800 380SE.
For such a large car, the S-Class was astonishingly aerodynamic, which helped to keep the interior free from wind and road noise.
Revealed on Friday, 8 October 1980, the Austin miniMetro made a huge and immediate impact, for it had been conceived against the depressing backdrop of British Leyland’s toughest, bleakest years. The rapturous reception it received was a rare bright spot among the prevailing talk of strikes and factory closures.
British Leyland codenamed it LC8 while developing it in secret, but a 1979 poll of BL workers decided on the winning ‘Metro’ name. However, Birmingham train manufacturer Metro Cammell got wind of the choice, and insisted BL could only use the Metro name if prefixed with the ‘mini’ tag.
Some Metro aspects were the equal – if not better – of the rival Ford Fiesta, Renault 5 and Volkswagen Polo, particularly its interior space and nimble road manners. Several elements, though, were compromised because the drivetrain was borrowed from the 21-year-old Mini, giving a slightly awkward driving position, a whiny four-speed gearbox and a lack of mechanical refinement in the ageing A-Series engine.
Early TV commercials showed a battalion of Metros holding back European rivals from a vantage point above Dover’s white cliffs. It was a blatantly patriotic statement that Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher surely approved of. One car magazine proclaimed: ‘At last – a British car that no-one needs apologise for.’ Hmm…
WHAT THEY SAID AT THE TIME
‘In both cars, the motorway was easy meat. The 1.0-litre gave 80-plus, the 1.3 around 90mph. Overall I felt the Metro was almost happier at or beyond the legal speed limit than in “normal” conditions, no doubt thanks to the long gear ratios BL has chosen.’
London Evening Standard in October 1980 on the £3,095 Metro 1.0 and £3,995 Metro 1.3.
Austin Metros begin to pour off the Longbridge production lines in 1981 to satisfy huge demand across Britain.
This MG Metro Turbo could reach 110mph and accelerate like greased lightning, but a five-speed gearbox would have been appreciated.
Austin stole a match on the Ford Fiesta by cleverly squeezing two extra doors into the Metro, still within the standard wheelbase.
It was thrifty to run and maintain, and genuinely versatile with a cavernous hatchback and the novelty of an asymmetrically split folding rear seat. The car was fun to drive, too, and a 103mph 1275cc MG edition launched in 1982 capitalised on this … and came with natty pepper-pot alloy wheels, go-faster stripes and red seatbelts!
WHO LOVED IT?
The wide British motoring public seemed benevolently tolerant of the Metro’s few drawbacks, and orders cascaded in. By June 1981 a newly minted Metro trundled out of the Longbridge factory every minute. By the end of the year it was Britain’s No. 4 bestseller at 110,283, and it remained in the top five until 1988.
TV presenters Terry Wogan and Sue Cook auction off the millionth Metro made for the BBC’s Children In Need charity.
Fiat had one of its periodic bouts of design brilliance in 1980, when it allowed Giorgetto Giugiaro free rein to reinterpret the basic economy car for the 1980s. The family car styling maestro, with the acclaimed Alfasud, Golf and Audi 80 in his portfolio already, came up with a startlingly straight-lined, boxy shape for the Panda, with its all-round plastic body-cladding – for fending off city dings – and flat glass, even for the windscreen, to cut production costs and maximise interior space within its tight dimensions.
The four-seater interior was also an industrial designer’s dream. The removable front seats could form a (fairly uncomfortable) bed, while the upholstery could be detached and chucked into the washing machine when it got grubby. There was a clip-on ashtray for the hammock-like front parcel shelf that stood in for a full-width dashboard, while the sun would blaze in through front and rear fabric roofs.
WHAT THEY SAID AT THE TIME
‘Considered as basic motor car, and not as anything more ambitious, this new Fiat is distinctly clever in some ways, amusing and entertaining in others. Will it sell? How reluctant the British have always been in the past to buy basic cars!’
Autocar magazine in June 1981 on the £2,860 Panda 45.
Partly thanks to the flat glass panels in Giugiaro’s utilitarian design, the Panda was a roomy little car.
Under the bonnet there were several engines to choose from. The early 650cc twin-cylinder, immensely popular back home in Italy, was never offered to UK customers, but the four-cylinder 903cc unit we did receive made the Panda a nippy buzzbox. A new range of Fiat’s FIRE engines in 1986, a five-speed gearbox and an improved rear suspension set-up made the already-capacious Panda vastly more pleasant and less harsh to own.
The Panda’s utilitarian cred was boosted in 1983 by the arrival of a version equipped with selectable four-wheel drive and raised ride height, and given another uplift with a tiny diesel engine option three years later.
WHO LOVED IT?
The original Panda is a design classic that served Europe well. In Britain, as elsewhere, it was affordable and useful as a utilitarian city runabout. We bought precisely 59,397 examples of the original Panda, which was but a small portion of the 4.5 million cars built.
Britain loved the Panda, snapping up almost 60,000 of them over a thirteen-year period; better engines used from 1986 made it even more likeable.