20 years ago this week, Rover Group pulled out of the US new car market.

Why? Because the business strategy was to sell upwards of 30k cars a year over there and it never achieved anything like that.

Factor in appalling J. D. Power initial quality results, plus the resultant cacophony of bad press, and it’s not hard to see why Rover fled with its tail between its legs.

The whole experience was one of great intentions but failed execution. Historically, British cars had always sold reasonably well in the states, particularly the sports cars. Rover wanted to revive this, and enjoy useful returns from what was then the world’s largest car market – first with executive models and later with an all-new sports car.

Add in the fact its launch car, the Rover 800, was actually a Honda Legend – a car already sold in the US as the Acura Legend (and thus already homologated) – and the logic was unfailing. Austin Rover Cars of North America (ARCONA) was duly established in 1986, selling a 2.5-litre V6 Rover 800.

Well, not quite: the cars were actually marketed under the Sterling brand. Thus, the launch car was actually a Sterling 825. With real wood veneer and lush Connolly leather, it was every inch the trad-modern British car.

US buyers agreed, with initial sales matching the well-established Honda/Acura: no mean feat for Rover, given the high standing Honda had in the US.

Being British, though, the company of course snatched defect from the jaws of victory.

Because, the rot quickly began to set in. Those J. D. Power survey results flowed… and, frankly, damned the Sterling brand mercilessly. Electrical problems, paint problems, corrosion, unreliability – the whole sorrowful lot was revealed by disenamoured US owners. The headliner was morbidly amusing: leather turned green in the sun. Not funny if you were an owner, though. A tragedy if you were Rover.

Overestimates, overproduction

It was all going wrong. In October 1989, recalls AROnline, 1800 people were laid off at the Cowley production plant. Weeks of work were cut in November, December and January. Plant turnover was 900 cars a week: it was geared up to do double. All the preparation work for those glorious US sales was going to waste. The US wasn’t buying.

Desperation set in. Rover released an image of the Rover 800 Coupe in 1990, a full two years before it was due to go on sale. All to try and rouse interest in the flailing US division – after all, the Coupe was designed specifically with the US market in mind.

Mind you, Rover’s admirable pricing stance was not helping things: the firm refused to discount. In a country that takes car discounts for granted even without the rampant price war that was underway at the time, this was misguided. Yet, in the early days, Sterling dealers couldn’t budge. They had their margins set in stone and they didn’t allow for much movement.

Well, I say ‘dealers’. In another sound idea turned sour, the 160 Sterling dealers weren’t actually stand-alone outlets. They were multi-franchise dealers, and thus, shared floorspace with Cadillacs, Buicks, Jeeps, even Daihatsus.

As the brand was selling a couple of cars a month, salesmen didn’t give it time and didn’t bother to learn the nuances. There was no loyalty. Sterling simply couldn’t gain traction with the people who were meant to be selling it. Another black mark.

Glimmer of hope?

Rover USA did eventually do something right: it installed Graham Morris as president. Former man behind the TR7 plant, he spoke very sensibly in late 1989 to Autocar, acknowledging the division’s failings and vowing to put them right.

By then, the company was renamed Sterling Motor Cars, Inc. It was trading with incentives, including $5000 cash back (mainly to shift all the unsold cars). Its dealers were happy and said quality was improving, after 44% of them told J. D. Power they’d be happy to leave a year earlier.

It was still bloody – 14k sales in 87 had dropped to 9k in 88 and would struggle to hit 6k in 89 – but Morris was saying the right things.

His business model? Range Rover in the US. That also used a multi-franchise dealer model. It worked. How? By being a niche maker with a desirable image. Sterling would achieve them same.

But then, bang. In August 1991, Rover pulled out, for the third time in 20 years. Chief executive George Simpson said it was all down to economic conditions, but disastrous sales pretty much saw to it anyway. They hadn’t picked up in 1990: 4015 were sold. 1991? 1878 to the end of July. It was disastrous. It was maybe inevitable.

But it was something that should not have happened.

How was it possible to fail when selling Honda engineering, which US buyers liked, topped off by British design and luxury, which US buyers liked, through a broad-network multi-franchise dealer network, which US buyers liked? Anyone?

The painful ache of irony

Ironies continued after the brand’s departure from the US. That’s because the US market was never to get the R17 facelift car, launched in 1992. This in itself was tragic, for it was a car that would surely have at least stated the US turnaround.

It was, remember, the first modern ‘aero’ car to bring back the traditional chrome grille, brilliantly integrated by Woolley. Remember the fuss it caused over here? Imagine how that would have gone down in the US.

The R17 also benefitted from many of the lessons learnt in the US. Rover, in fairness, had listened to all those complaints, and waded through all the J. D. Power statistics. The engineering department was duly charged with ensuring electrics didn’t go pop, leather didn’t turn green. The R17 was the quality-leap product of all that engineering. Which was was never to make it to the market that led to it

Nor, indeed, would the Coupe. Presenting Rover with yet more problems. Goodness, Europe certainly didn’t want a large 800-derived Coupe: but as there was no other home for it, lumbered with it we were. A tragic, complete waste of resource that once again showed how misguided the US pullout was.

The more you look at it, both the harder yet the easier it is to believe. But, given how Rover Group is no longer with us, maybe it’s also a lesson in how not to do things?

I do, however, have a treat for those of you who are particularly wistful and upset. Here is the last Sterling 827 sold in the US. Buy it and savour the memories…

Do you have any views on the failed Rover US exploration?

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@toyotapr pointed it out: how nice it is to see the Rover Vitesse back in the news.

It has hit the headlines once again thanks to the efforts of Mark Higgins in a Subaru WRX STI. He’s just beaten late legend Tony Pond’s lap record around the Isle of Man TT course, a whole two decades after Pond blitzed the isle.

Cue an excuse for me to hit the archives and remind myself of the big barge Pond pedaled to an improbably mighty average speed. And it’s quickly clear Pond did something even more amazing than Higgins’ latest star runs.

The Vitesse was, see, blessed with just 177hp from its 2.7-litre V6 Honda engine. 177hp! A VW Polo GTI with an engine half the size beats that nowadays, and is a whole 2.8 seconds quicker to 60mph, too.

Yes, this new ‘fast’ Rover 800 took a yawning 9.7 seconds to reach 60mph, and could only reach 132mph all-out. How on earth did Pond do it? Thankfully, by 1990, Rover had at least fitted a manual gearbox, rather than the yawning four-speed auto of the launch car.

Even so, with such limp power and pace, watching Pond’s 100mph lap becomes all the more amazing – and that’s without considering what mighty challenges the soggy, rolling handling threw in too.

Higgins, by way of contrast, has a near-bona fide rally car for the road. To take nothing away from him, is it any wonder he was able to push the average speed record up to 113mph?

Pond, I salute you. This Rover reads, on paper, like a boat. You did the impossible, and turned it into a 100mph recordbreaker. You, not it, deserved the record to stand for so long.

Rover 800 Fastback

What the Fastback Rover XX itself? This was the hatch version of the 800, launched in 1988 with the new Vitesse as the fanfare range-topper.

Rover expected to eventually share a sales split with the saloon. As no extra production capacity was installed at the Cowley plant (which now makes MINI), it wouldn’t actually do much for overall volumes. So what was the thinking?

Apparently, to ensure no SD1 drivers were lost. The youngest SD1s were, by 1988, coming up for two years old and were pressing dealers for something new. Rover wanted to cash in with these existing hatchback-loving customers.

Roy Axe led the styling. Changes were made aft of the C-pillar: new roof, rear quarter panels and the hatchback itself. This was set at 18 degrees, the same as the Rover SD1. Good for aero, apparently.

Remarkably, Rover managed to carry over the rear doors, bumper, lights and numberplate surround. That’s why it was a hatchback with a letterbox-like slot opening: good old British design consideration meant the rear lights ate into the boot opening, restricting ultimate practicality.

There was one quite cool addition, though – an electronic boot release switch. Familiar to Japanese car drivers, this was something new for a big hatch Rover, and served as a ‘surprise and delight’ feature salesmen savoured.

The Fastback saw the introduction of the Vitesse model, which sat alongside the saloon Sterling at the top of the range. This was the £20k Rover, to compete with same-price BMW 528i SE.

However, Rover also introduced a new entry-level 820, with a headliner £11,995 list price. With a miserable 100hp, it was going nowhere fast, but it did reduce the 800 entry price by almost £1000.

A Montego 2.0 HL, for comparison, cost £9995: a Mini Mayfair sold for £5000.

The ongoing story of the Rover 800 is fascinating, and boasts intrigue deep into the mid-1990s. What’s most satisfying is the achievement of Tony Pond behind the wheel of one, though. Subaru now has the record – ironically in a saloon – but Pond’s achievement remains remarkable nonetheless.

It’s only reading how comparably archaic the big Rover was that you realise just how impressive it was. Vitesse sounds impressive, but it really wasn’t. Pond added that bit for them.

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Rover underwhelmed the world with the 1995 Rover 400.

There were many cars that could have marked the point where the more recent Rover rot set in: I point to this overpriced, bland-looking, too-small replacement for one of Rover’s top-5 best cars ever.

The reasons for its mediocrity are much, much-discussed elsewhere. Even so, there were surprises and delights that could be gleaned from the launch: tediously dull it sure was, but it still had its moments.

MOMENTS

The 400 was the last Rover-Honda co-car. As with the 600, author Steve Cropley explained, it was basically a Honda with Richard Woolley-designed Rover clothes. Doors were common (what IS it with BL cars and shared doors?) but all the other panels were different.

It was 6 inches shorter than the Vauxhall Cavalier class of cars Rover intended to pitch it against. A lot smaller, in other words.

Why the apparent naively in stealing such a large slice of Ford Mondeo sector sales, then? Well, because it was 4 inches longer than the old Rover 400 – and as that car had proven surprisingly successful in the large family car market, so Rover’s plans may not have been so misguided after all.

HONDA CONSTRUCTION

It was launched with 1.4-litre and the then-new 1.6-litre version of the K-series engine. Rover was reluctant to give a date to Cropley for the launch of the 1.8-litre version, “although they admit proving work has begun”. Was it proving, even back then, that the head gasket was weak?

The build of the bodies was of interest: they were all built by Honda’s plant in Swindon. The Rover creation happened at Longbridge; conversely, it turned into a Honda Civic at Swindon.

The all-steel body was an impressive 20 percent stiffer than its predecessor, which Rover said allowed it to optimise NVH. It also allowed it to improve the ride quality over even the Honda it was derived from. Rover recalibrated the dampers, too – so successfully that Autocar was told it set “a new comfort standard for Rover cars”. Rover benchmarked it against the ‘supple’ Peugeot 306, apparently, rather than ‘stiffer’ German hatchbacks.

The Longbridge firm fitted more wood and its own-brand seats inside: these were actually new-look versions of those in the old Rover 200/400. The steering wheel was also carried over from before. Good ol’ British enterprise.

BULLISH

Rover was bullish: Cropley was told Longbridge had been equipped to build more than 200,000 of them a year. Double the number of old Rover 400s: the usual eye-watering BL trick of sales optimism had clearly returned.

Even so, Cropley reckoned the design, manufacturer and quality control showed the “lifesaving” influences of Honda: significant traits he’d noticed, given the foibles of British cars of the past. Rover qualities were, he reckoned, the shape, the engines and the suspension refinement, proving “Rover had accumulated expertise of its own”.

Sage words: Rover engineers continued to prove this in future years, too – but Cropley had picked up on a key point. With the loss of Honda, after 16 years, Rover lost a partner to design and productionise all-new cars.

Cropley actually revealed the downfall of Rover, years before it actually happened. It may well have boasted ample expertise of its own, which the wonderful Rover 75 proved to aplomb. But, with the loss of BMW, Rover lost the ‘lifesaving’ influences in design, manufacture and quality control that would provide the raw materials the skilled engineers could work from.

The final irony is the fact this same Rover 400 was still on sale a decade later, as the Rover 45, in the company’s dying days. Being orphaned meant Rover simply couldn’t replace it. Mediocre it may well have been, but the Rover 400 was also a landmark car – the last all-new volume family Rover be launched (the 75 was a sector above and not a volume car to the same extent; the Rover 35/55? They, alas, were never to arrive…).

It wasn’t rotten, but it wasn’t good enough, even when new. See why I think it’s a rotter?

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ALFA Romeo will show the sexy Ford Focus-rivalling Giulietta in public for the first time at the Geneva Motor Show in March.

It’s a make-or-break car. Lordy, how many times have we heard that before?

Thing is, how many times has it been proven right..?

Fiat Group boss Sergio Marchionne has already gone on record to say Alfa Romeo is currently not cutting the mustard. It’s the weakest brand in the giant Fiat Group portfolio – and, when you consider that also includes Chrysler and Lancia, it’s quite a dubious honour to hold.

Alfa Romeo is unbowed, though. It’s going to take its final chance and damn well make the most of it – with a product-led recovery that will be centred around the Giulietta.

But can Alfa do it? My mind swifts back to another ill-judged pronouncement of leadership intent to drive the PR guys up the wall. Yes, Bernd Pischetsrieder, on the eve of the Rover 75 launch at the British Motor Show back in 1998.

Forget the car, muses Keith Adams on the brilliant AROnline: Bernd ensured that, with pronouncements such as ‘short-term actions are required for the long-term future of the Rover Group,’ the chat of the launch was not of 75, but of the health of the firm building it.

So recounted motoring writer good guy Steve Cropley to Adams; ‘…we were all a bit stunned,’ he said, ‘both by the content and timing of what Bernd Pischetsrieder said. We had all been feeling pretty enthusiastic about the 75 and the unveiling had gone well… it seemed bizarre, even grotesque, that the company’s top man should choose to undermine the moment so thoroughly.

‘He deflected the media from praising the car the way they would naturally have done, deflated the workforce who must have been on a high, and introduced a degree of buyer uncertainty that could have been avoided.’ No wonder the reaction in the firm was one of gobsmacked amazement.

Shoot forward a decade and a bit, to the Giulietta, to Marchionne saying ‘Alfa has been underperforming for some time’ and ‘it’s our problem’ and we ‘have to rethink our objectives and be realistic with ourselves,’ to cue many pairs of eyes on Alfa in Geneva.

Will he complete his ‘doing a Bernd’ in Geneva? I’ll join the throngs during the press conference next month and find out…

Land Rover App out snow

Rover 200 makes the 95 news

How Ford would have made a Rover

AUTOCAR man Steve Cropley interviewed the team behind the MGF back in 1995.

His piece is full of fascinating findings: 5 of them caught my eye, which helped show that the MGF was much more than just a rebodied Metro.

Such as:

1 Europe-first EPAS system
MGFs weren’t initially to have PAS. Late implementation meant a simple solution was required. Enter electric power steering – which Rover initially only was to fit on Japanese-market cars, to help with parking. Speed-sensitive, it had then never before been seen in Europe.

2 Trick adjustments to Metro rear suspension
Metro rear suspension anti-dive caused the MGF’s tail to rise and toe-out under braking, and squat under power. Bad. So, to the existing subframe, engineers junked the bottom A-arm, in favour of 3 new lower bits:

•    Bottom link
•    Track control arm
•    Brake reaction rod

These were anchored in different places on the subframe, for optimal geometry. The result was one ‘as pure in practice as that of a uniquely designed system’.

3 Subtle changes to Metro front suspension
Well, just one – the steering arm was shortened, to speed up the steering ratio and improve the Ackermann effect

4 Posh Hydragas units
These were more expensive, with less inbuilt ‘stiction’. They moved at lower loads than in, say, the Metro. Richard Parry-Jones would be proud. That’s why Dr Alex Moulton wanted to see them on the Rover 100 – but Rover couldn’t justify the expense on a low-end car.

5 BMW-spec windscreen frame strength
BMW gave the MGF the final green light. German input was minimal, though: the only contribution was the adoption of the BMW roadster’s specification for windscreen frame strength. Does this mean the MGF has the same windscreen surround as the Z3?

Any more insider facts on the MGF, please share them here!

Land Rover’s ride quality secret

How Ford would have made a Rover

Rover rides with NASA

FORD finally won ownership to the Rover brand name in 2006. But it was providing aid for the brand even before then.

Secret talks in the late 90s were conducted, to sidestep then-chief Bernd Pischetreider’s plans to invest £1.7bn in Rover. Instead of spending so much to develop two new platforms, a future mid-range Rover would have been developed with Ford.

The plan was to take the Focus and develop it into a Rover. BMW engineers, said Car magazine’s Hilton Holloway back in 1999, went so far as to evaluate the Ford Focus.

Their verdict? The VW Golf, which was initially to have formed the base of the Rover, is a fine car… ‘but the Focus is better – almost as good as we envisage the next Golf being.’

And how would they have turned it into a Rover? Easy: ‘new rubber mountings, springs and dampers.’

This has to rank up among the biggest opportunities missed in the entire history of Rover. Despite an insider telling Holloway ‘on a 1-to-10 provability scale, we’ve reached 8 with Ford’. The Mk1 Focus is brilliant. It could have made a superb Rover 200 replacement.

Volvo proved as much by taking the Mk2 Focus platform and creating the Volvo C30. Which is brilliant. Looks nothing like a Focus, neither outside nor in. Indeed, the more I think about it, the more it pains me: seems the ‘unforeseen’, which would have scuppered the deal our insider expected by March 2000, did indeed happen.

Groan…

Land Rover’s ride quality secret

Ride on time

Rover rides with NASA

ROVER’S unveiling of the 200 made for a fascinating news report by Julian Rendell back in ’95.

He was reporting from the London Motor Show, at which he spoke to the car’s designer, David Saddington. There, the Rover man explained the internal soul-searching that had been preoccupying all at Longbridge for months.

Apparently, it was a question of grille or no grille. They tried all sorts, eventually setting on a body-colour version of the chrome grille. This would appeal to the younger buyers Rover was targeting – while remaining ‘recognisably Rover’.

‘We’re stretching the perceptions of Roverness so the grille is very important to establish the Rover credentials.’

Younger buyers? Apparently, then-boss John Towers wanted 20s and 30s, rather than 40, 50 and 60 year olds. People like me, then: had I been older, I’d have been receptive to this ‘significant message in a new era of Rover products’.

People such as me are the reason why Rover fitted extra-long seat runners: boosting it for those up front, and sacrificing rear space. Mind you, a properly shorter wheelbase than the 306 Rendell compared it with was also a factor here. Also led to a small boot.

As we know, the R3 project cost £200 million, through using bits from the parts bin, and making sure 3dr and 5dr use lots of common bits: front end, roof, rear hatch and glass are the same for both. Only the side pressings and doors are different.

Rendell also pointed out the front bulkhead forwards was the same as the R8; new press tools built an all-new floorpan.

Suspension, he explained, was modified 200 struts at the front, and a H-frame rear torsion beam we now know is from the Maestro. Despite grannies driving that, the firm tuned it for handling: project chief Bill Owen told Rendell it ‘just turns in and grips.’

Neutral rear steer tuning for the rear combined with ride comfort ’very similar’ to the 400 over smaller bumps. Over bigger bumps, it was just behind. Roll bars make an interesting comparison, tool

•    Standard: 19mm f, 16mm r
•    Diesel: 23mm f, 16mm r
•    Vi: 25mm f, 18mm r

Why the big jump for diesels? To counter the extra weight of the engine: unlike the all-alloy K Series, the then-new L-series was decidedly ferrous. Diesels came in 86hp or 105hp: electronic control for the injection system gave the more powerful one its boost.

More tech: the 1.6-litre got a CVT, from Belgians VCST – the same chaps who made it for the Metro CVT. Impressive example of scaling-up here: indeed, it would also later appear on the 1.8-litre MGF Steptronic.

Overall, Rendell was most impressed with the 200. Should see queues forming outside dealers, he reckoned. See: even as late as ’95, Rover could still do it.

A decade later, alas, it would be no more.

Land Rover’s ride quality secret

Ride on time

Rover rides with NASA

TWO decades ago, the car industry was in a recession, too. 1991 was a year of depression, sales shrinkages and dealer drama.

Sound familiar? Well, looking at the news of the day, the parallels extend far further than that. Yearly sales were around 1.8 million, well down on the all-time record of 2.3 million in 1989. Rather similar to this year’s prediction, too.

This led, explained Autocar & Motor’s David Sutherland, to ‘plant idling’ – shutting plants down for weeks and months on end. Honda, Nissan and MINI will be familiar with this.

He also looked at a few individual brands, rating their performance over the year.

Ford used to claim 30 percent, but the maker was suffering, mainly because of the rubbish Escort. 25 percent was the total experts said it would have to put up with (today, Ford commands 17.5 percent. There’s a difference).

Rover (remember them?) was still doing well – the Brit-built Metro was brilliant, as were the 200 and 400. Even the archaic Maestro and Montego were finding homes in large lease and daily rental fleets, albeit with massive discounts.

Citroen was on the up, with the ZX bringing market share up to around 3.5-4 percent. Again, oddly similar to what it holds today. Funnily, expert Garel Rhys noted the firm’s pricing throughout the ‘80s was competitive, ‘and it will have to beep up the aggressive marketing strategy’…

BMW was pleased: here is where the 3 Series really started its shift to the mainstream, with the launch of the E36. Sutherland reckoned the biggest problem would be getting enough right-hookers.

‘It’s a good time to launch a small car because in this recession a lot of people are considering down-sizing,’ said a BMW GB chief.

Lest we forget, Japanese makers were still selling under quotas, meaning they were cushioned against the recession. Nissan was the largest: it could sell 6 percent of the UK market total. Interesting, and not long to last.

But, today and quota-free, is there really that much difference in volumes? Toyota has 5 percent, Nissan has 3.2 percent, Mazda has 2.3 percent…

There were differences, though. In 2009, it’s been scrappage-boosted private buyers who have kept the market up. Company car drivers did that in 1991 – retail sales were knocked by price rises and high interest rates. The latter isn’t a factor now, and scrappage has reduced the impact of the latter.

18 years ago seems like only yesterday, yet you’d still think there would be huge changes in the UK market. And, with no Rover and more makers eating into Ford’s share, there have indeed been.

Still, though, the framework remains intriguingly familiar…

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Ford gloom hides people carrier revolution?

IT was Rover that introduced the UK to the Pandora’s box of secondary ride quality considerations.

Secondary what? Yes, indeed. Edit the above to insert (non too successfully).

But, there it was. In the 1995 national ad campaign for the Rover 400. Best secondary ride comfort in its sector, didn’t you know.

Rover did bless it up a bit, by headlining it ‘long distance ride comfort’. But you didn’t have to snib that much further to see this mysterious new term mentioned.

What is it? The ability of a car to soak up sharp surface imperfections – you know, high-frequency, low amplitude stuff. Potholes and the like. The noisy, harsh and unpleasant stuff.

As opposed, of course, to primary ride quality. That’s how well a car controls its body motions over bigger road undulations.

Rover did this by using something space-age and cool-sounding: NASA’s official ‘comfort coefficient’ for ride comfort.

Apparently, the Rover 400 had an excellent 2.06 rating. Much better than contemporary Vauxhall Cavaliers, Peugeot 405s, Ford Mondeos and even – get this – traditionally fine-riding motors like the Citroen Xantia and Renault Laguna.

That was in the small print, of course. Communicating this was the canny ‘land speed record’ ad campaign. And, at the time, while few really understood what it was on about, they still remembered it.

If they also remembered something about space, NASA, ride and Rover, then it was job done. Let’s just hope the old HH-R didn’t disappoint too many who were expecting a Rolls-Royce when they got to showrooms.

Because there, they’d discover the interesting revelation about primary ride. That the Cavalier beat it – by its own NASA-sanctioned coefficient, no less. Harsh and knobbly the old Cav 3 may have been (I know – my dad had one), but it couldn’t half control its body motions well.

And the other Rover-beater? The Citroen Xantia.

Whoosh.

A NASA rocket? No, theories about wallowy hydropneumatic Citroens, flying out the window.

BMW X5 – reviewing the 2007 launch

MINI John Cooper S Works Photostream on Flickr

Why Ford Econetics break the rules

STUDYING new car data is something I do every day at Motoring Research Ltd.

Torque figures, combined fuel consumption, CO2, weights, boot capacities, the whole shooting match.

So it was with fascination that I flicked through the classic Mini brochure I dug out recently.

That’s Mini Classic – as in, the 1997 Rover-BMW model, by then differentiated from the forthcoming new MINI by yet another name change (and the retention of correct capitalisation).

Looking at it with today’s eyes, it’s truly fascinating. For example, engine power output of 62bhp is no great shakes by modern 1.3-litre standards: a Peugeot 107’s 1.0-litre triple yields 68bhp.

However, 70lb/ft of torque IS much more like it – particularly as it’s generated at an almost diesel-like 3000rpm. I read into this, lots of low-rev sluggability.

Performance figures still stack up, too – for a tiny city car, 0-60mph in 12.2 seconds is pretty decent, even if aero effects ultimately does limit the maximum to 90mph.

This is, alas, why economy is less than glittering. That modern Peugeot 107 returns well over 60mpg. The Mini? 43mpg combined.

That equates to CO2 emissions of circa 155g/km: compare this, for example, to something like a BMW 320i. Which emits 146g/km (and the diesel 320d puts out just 128g/km).

Still, at least modern car service intervals were quoted. After an initial 6000 mile check, you’d only have to take it to the Rover dealer every 12,000 miles, or 12 months.

That’s probably all for the better, mind. For the dealer’s sake. At the back of the brochure, a finance example is quoted. Yes, a Mini could have been yours, for just £2715 down, then £169 a month for two years.

Great!

Sure, you’d have a final payment of £3800 on the PCP scheme, but a minimum guaranteed value of £4700 would easily cover that.

All good? Well, no. See, this £9000 Mini would actually, by that stage, have cost you £10,572. Why? Average APR of 15.9 percent, that’s why.

To modern eyes of 0.5 percent base rates, and car dealers not bothering to get out of bed if they can’t do 0 percent finance, that seems somewhat rich…

More insights on my brochure studies to come!

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