There’s a rumour abound that this game was literally an april fools joke – except something happened that compelled the team to turn it into a fully fledged game.
I’m a big fan of Far Cry 3. I’ve just looked for the review to link it through here, but to my shock and horror I’ve not written one.

Regardless. It’s the same game with textures and audio changed.
It’s planted thoroughly in the future – or at least our vision of the future from the 80′s And there are some proper treats in there with many references to that period of excess, bad acting and explosions. It’s really funny with some excellent wise cracks both from the protagonist and also your mission control radio buddy. It’s witty, wacky and wonderfully ironic.

However, I’ve found that I have a limit of tollerence to what is essentially a lick of paint. The game has a future setting with set designs very close to Planetside, for reference. However it appears to be perpetually based in dark. I assume this is to off set the future weaponry so that laser beams can stand out more against the night time backdrops.

It’s literally Far Cry 3 with a different skin and personally, I think once you take away the comedy value and the retro nods, then I feel that the game has taken some of the best elements off from the original and replaced them with inferior mechanics.

I don’t think the weapons are satisfying. The Bow is neon and is difficult to use. Dragons, despite being a lol addition, actually become quite irritating after a while.

I’ll give it another whirl. I’m known to have a renewed lease of life on games on my second play through.

It was a defining genre smasher with an original concept that many have tried to emulate since. A good mix of character building with unique combat mechanics.

The sequel in comparison was a weak followup, turning Big Daddy into the main protagonist, whilst continuing the same set up in Rapture. Once you’d completed the first game, the second was just the same, but more.

Infinite, the third in the series, takes the battle to the skies with the familiar mix of magic v gunpowder with a far richer background and universe that can be compelling by itself in its lore.

There’s a familiar gripping story that had me hanging on right until the end culminating in a spine tingling finish to the story that did the series proud. It’s a very clever game and the rich weaves form a beautifully charming story that really does the trilogy proper justice.

The main character is a very likeable private dick, paid to go collect a girl from this fantasy sky world that seems steeped in religious zealots. He’s drowning in some personal conflict which is never really made clear, but it’s paletable because it appears he doesn’t either. So we join him on his journey of enlightebment as he battles through characters human and robotic, so typical of this faux-1920s world that dominates the Bioshock universe.

Combat is hit an miss with some weapons feeling very weak when used. There’s never a real satisfactory feeling of pumping someone with lead, apart from the shotgun and minigun which do feel powerful especially in close range. But combined with the ‘vigors’ that form the basis of mutated spells, you do start to get quite busy. But the best aspect of the game has to be the grappling hook.

The city of Infinite is surrounded by elevated forms of cable transport. So these rails are often perfectly placed to allow your character to jump in very rapid fashion from rail to rail, often allowing you to exact awesome drop moves on unsuspecting mobs.

Add to this the time-tears that your co-protagonist can create, you can bring forward things to help you in combat from the past and the future. Things such as turrets, medication and weapons.

No more spoilers. Be patient with this. It takes time, but the ending is well worth it. A clever bit of story telling that is grossly missed so often from gaming.

I mean, it’s actually a bloody laugh riot. It’s a hoot. Evil Dead is a great movie. If you can stomach the violence (it’s more of a gore-fest than a horror actually) and the incessantly perverse beatings the cast typically get, then you can slowly start to unravel some of the real Sam Raimi DNA that’s hidden beneath this new coat of varnish and polish.

It looks excellent, with a colour palette that’s suitably ominous. Coupled with a high grade horror soundtrack, the film does a good job of following in the footsteps of “OMG I just KNOW something’s gonna happen”. And invariably, it does, giving way to a somewhat predictable reveal.

Based loosely on the original, it features a group of young professionals who embark on a weekend at a wood chalet in an effort to assist a friends fight through cold turkey as she attempts to quit some unknown drug. Cue combination of “Nothing there you’re mad” quotes and “Behind you!” pantomime phrases and what we have is text book gore.

What follows is a discovery of the Necronomicon and the foolish exploration of its contents which essentially calls forward the dead, manifested via a possessed member of the team. Brilliant.

It’s funny, alarmingly violent in graphic nature and, at times a little frustrating. Rule 1 in the book of horror survival. Never split up. Someone WILL die.

On top of that, I was mildly disappointed with the finale. I’ll not mention anything about it, of course, suffice to say I expected some more homage. Regardless, I had a great time on this movie, will definitely buy it on BR when it’s out.

As my experience on the bike increases, so has my speed. And although I am more than confident on the bike, I feel that eventually, as this speed and enthusiasm increases, there’s a growing opportunity that I will eventually be gracing the cover of a newspaper one day.

So it is with a huge amount of sadness that I place for sale my Panigale.

Today the bike was properly detailed in such a fashion, I left the bike in the care of Damiano @ Metropolis Motorcycles with a great deal of conflict. I’ve done this before where I’ve dropped a vehicle off for sale, only to return home with the same car.

But with summer looming and a beautiful weekend day, the temptation had to be defeated. And so it is. It may be I will return after a period of cooling off, chances are to buy the same bike again – it’s that good. It has left such a positive impact on me that I walked around the motorbike dealership asking myself what else I’d have in its place and I could not think of a rightful alternative.

So…

FOR SALE

Ducati 1199 Panigale S Tricolore
2800 Miles
First service completed
Carbon rear hugger
Termignoni rear exhaust
Official Ducati Alarm and Immobilizer
All recall work completed, including exhaust clips, new ECU maps. Only recall job I haven’t done is the exhaust centre section cover – I think it looks ugly!
The most beautiful Rizoma rear sets – speak to Damiano about inclusion!
Carbon rear hugger
Ducati official tail tidy
All usual Tricolore extras.

This bike is without doubt the best example you will find in the UK. I honestly believe the condition of the paintwork is better than when the bike arrives new. It is stunning and needs nothing doing at all. It’s awesome value given the extras it comes with too.

Speak to Damiano @ Metropolis motorcycles 020 7793 9313 or email him: damiano@metrop.co.uk
Don’t forget to tell him Cem sent you from this site or he’ll charge you extra :)

Crysis looks amazing. I’m playing this on a PC and I am unable to use its best settings as the game has clearly been engineered to take advantage of technology not even made yet.

Combining the urban and jungle worlds of Crysis 1 and 2, the third in the series centres around the Prophet’s super suit. The super suit has evolved further and is now an alien infected biological entity that often demonstrates super powers as you gain invincibility and destructive capabilities not seen in the previous episodes.

All great going so far, with some awesome alien weaponry working in tandem with the typically vogue bow providing silent killing abilities. Psycho makes another return and I pray this absurd love of cockney characters in action games comes to a close soon as they are becoming exaggerated caricatures of their originals.

Gameplay follows a linear, mission objective based fashion with checkpoints setting progressive markers. Progression is rewarded by the discovery of new weapons and exacting that vengeance upon evolving alien mobs.

It’s stunning to look at and clearly deserves the next gen monikers. It’s easy to progress through though and I’m sure will present replay value as we buy better equipment over the years, it wouldn’t surprise me if this title became the proper testing title to batter power rigs of the future.

A low-key movie set in a not too distant future, robots are part of every day society, from antiquated library assistants to modern home care counterparts. When Frank is plagued by familiar issues surrounding senility, his son buys him a robot to assist him in his daily duties.

Reluctant at first, he warms to the company not least because it allows him to kickstart his old career as a jewel thief.

Some touching moments that allow us to explore surprisingly warm moments of human endearments, with the robot creating a that typically touching relationship between child and parent. Who is who, though, is not apparent.

Our opening scene shows him in bed with a stunningly beautiful woman, he has a dream pilots job, jet sets across the world and is clearly living life one party at a time. But then he is on the phone refusing to cooperate with his estranged wife who is begging for assistance to help with their son you can’t quite help but feel you’re not supposed to like him.

This is further exacerbated by his continued deterioration as he further becomes a bit of a dick really.

So it goes with addicition, with Whip struggling against both alcohol and drug abuse that implicates him in gross negligence against the airline who seek to attribute some blame on him for the airline crash. Irony is, his incredible skills as a pilot essentially save a majority of the passengers from the disaster, which, I may add, is stunningly recreated with an exciting crash landing that will have you biting nails and chewing bricks.

The story is less about the crash as it is about the hopelessness against alcoholism and drug addiction, as he simply can’t fight his weak urges to succomb.

Superb performances from all around, not least John Goodman’s awesome ‘clean up guy’ routine.

Bored, at home, sick with flu for a week so I go through my collection to review some games to replay. Dragon’s Dogma? I don’t remember much of this game. Cue, 1 week later and I have a level 40 character, I’m deep rooted within the world and lore of the Dragon’s Dogma universe and my iPad has all the wiki’s on perma-open.

So what sets this aside from the Skyrim’s, Witcher’s and Dark Souls? It’s actually got a lot in common with the latter. It’s hard, especially from the beginning. And there’ll be times where you’ll want to throw your controller in the screen as you restart for the 20th time trying to get past a bunch of enemy archers who should not be this hard. But you do. And you keep trying.

It has a unique ‘pawn’ system, which are essentially your helper NPC characters who you can hire. As well as your own pawn, you can also recruit two more pawns from other Xbox Live players across the world. They all have their own stats, classes and strengths so you can tailor your team to complement your own skills.

It’s a rewarding mechanism and despite some irritating AI deficiencies, generally it’s a fantastic model. Unlike most other games, it’s similar to Shadow of Colossus where the world is inhabited not just by NPC’s and humanoid baddies, but also by huge monsters that can sometimes take up to an hour to take down.

It’s not a hugely open world, but they make it more exploratory by removing any simple Skyrim type fast-travel option, forcing you to often traverse through the same paths, repeatedly to the point of tedium. It is a sore point for me as I think I’ve had enough of it.

It’s exacerbated by the fact that it has a functional night and day system, with night-times becoming almost black and blinded and monsters coming out of the woodwork with renewed vigour. You cannot travel from one point of the map to the other in one single day time shift, meaning eventually, it gets dark and your journey is encumbered by constant combat interruption.

Which, ironically, brings us to the strength of the game. Dark Souls was mentioned earlier because it also has a similarly rewarding combat system. Sword slashes connect, spells explode and when you do big damage, it feels it. The first time I cast Seism, I had a positive smile across my face as it felt like I was in charge of some proper power.

It’s a great game, some good balance, great combat and beautiful visuals – some of the monsters are breathtakingly designed. Does it have longevity? I’m not so sure. Ask me again if I open it up again next year.

So it goes without saying, Life of Pi has left a pretty sizeable indent in my heart. I have a lot of empathy with this film and follow similar views of the protagonist, I am not a religious man but I do believe in god. Employing some form of logic and rationale to your life could be interpreted as contradictory where god is concerned, but they are not necessarily mutually exclusive. And this element and freedom of choice is what the film promotes so colourfully.

Ang Lee is one of my heroes. He was grossly underrated for his delivery of Hulk and has a magical skill of delivering story with a dose of childlike wonderment and magic.

Life of Pi is no exception to this. Vibrant with an incredible colour pallet (looks incredible on Bluray) and delicious visuals, I was genuinely perplexed at not being able to separate, at times, CGI from the real thing. The companion tiger was so utterly realistic, from its majestic full strength, to its weakened, skeletal state, I was in awe for the full duration of the movie.

The story is touching too, right up until the final five minutes, allowing us to wallow in our own theories of existentialism and philosophy.

If any foreign tourism board wants to promote their country, they need look no further than Ang Lee. India was portrayed as an exotic, magical land full of hope, promise and mystery. It’s a fitting background for the story which was equally fantastical.

These are the moments I live for. It’s an inspirational piece and demands my full respect and I salute those involved in making one of the most beautiful films I’ve seen in recent times.

Currently waiting for the soundtrack CD to arrive as the music was of equal standard to the music.

Battlefield 3 isn’t something I didn’t appreciate from the beginning though. I’ve always loved being a supporter of BF3 over COD. It’s far more an intricate world, has proven itself as a steadfast companion to PC gamers and more recently has successfully migrated as a console power franchise.

BF3 is best appreciated with real friends. Someone you can join a private Live Party with, swap information and instructions over mic and headset and enjoy some fantastic squad based playtime. Becoming telepathic with your squadmates provides an added dimension to your gameplay with cooperative gameplay necessary to a succesful campaign. Having your teammate jump out from your tank to repair it as you fire salvo after salvo into enemy vehicles mean you can rest assured you have your back covered.

That feeling of comradarie and teamplay isn’t reflected this well in any other game. Balanced gameplay is something that the game revels in. You can never really expect to dominate the skies as there will always be a foot soldier with a Stinger missile launcher. Tanks are only a strength as long as you don’t have a havoc helicopter hovering over you. This infinte game of rock, paper, scissors ensures you revive from being killed knowing it wasn’t a unfair disadvantage you’d succombed to, but in fact some mistake you’d made.

It isn’t without issues though. Joining a game with a group of level 100′s in the opposition team is deliriously frustrating. Some of the players are so damn good that you can’t make any progress with them hindering your every move.

BF3 also appears to have fallen victim to the micro-transaction world. They no longer have officially provided servers but instead have come up with the ingenious idea of renting out official servers with Xbox points. I did this a few days ago, it costs about £15 per month. Except nobody joins. So it sits there empty. On top of that is the endless map packs and weapon unlocks they pimp out. I guess it’s a shortcut to those who have not the time to unlock weapons, but there’s a sense of ingeniousness about it.

Forget about the single player campaign though. It’s terribly scripted and has some ham fisted oo-rah american acting which is nauseating at best.

Finally, I don’t know why, but the BF series has just the most perfect sound effects. The weapons are incredible to listen to with 100′s of different items available to try, each with strengths and weaknesses and different suitability for each level. Shotgun rampages are terribly satisfying and taking out a Havoc chopper with a tank shell is one of gamings sweetest sensations.

Dialogue is diverse and dynamic with no repetitions in vocal samples. Only complaint is that there should be an option to turn off swearing. It’s a shame I can’t play this game in front of the kids.

BF4 gameplay trailer has just been released. It appears to show more of the scripted single player scenarios, but the graphics are suitably uprated with beautifully rendered textures of post apocalyptic war zones. But show us what multi-player will hold and then we’ll comment.

I wanna bounce grenades of my mates skulls.

I always thought about simulation games and the appeal. Be it cars or aircraft, it’s the extreme side of those pursuits that hold interest for me. If I’m in a car, I want to be racing bumper to bumper. In an aircraft, perhaps some dogfighting.

In a truck, it seems the parallels are stark as you find yourself contemplating the more….mundane things in life. As you cruise the M11 at 55mph with a valuable cargo of milk in tow, the thoughts are more in line with “Did I leave my oven on” and “I must remember to return those videotapes”.

As delightfully absurd the idea of sitting on a motorway navigating your sat nav from one city to the next as you drive a truck for an hour between pick up and delivery, you soon come to realise that every joke has its limits.

No doubt for the Eddie Stobbart entrepreneurs, this would lend itself to some useful insight, but to us mere mortals, despite its novel presentation, it became a chore too quick.

Back in 1996, the original Tomb Raider reinvented the platformer with novel 3D graphics, excellent level designs with ingenious puzzles. And, of course, a heroine with big tits.

Fast forward and we have a reboot of the franchise in this modern day refresh of Core’s original.

Beautifully rendered graphics go far enough to justify the next-gen monikers as it glistens with high resolution textures, lush forestry and advances in hair tech, coined TresFX by AMD. It’s not quite there yet, with an intense amount of GFX processing required to run it, but also there’s a little too much of an artificial feel that makes the hair look even more fake.

The game is solid enough with more than a few similarities to Far Cry 3, given its jungle setting and the crafting of weapons. But I still don’t know why in 2013 we are forced to play games that present stupid quick-time events to gaming. We should be beyond this base level scripting of events, especially given the lush gaming background that should allow us to explore more freely.

Didn’t hold enough to complete and lacks Far Cry 3′s freeform nature and the superb characters that inhabit that island.

The Wachowskis are not known for being sympathetic with their viewers, often opting to confuse through a baffling combination of visuals and dialogue, one could be forgiven for thinking this a trademark stamp, as was experienced from both Matrix Reloaded and even more confusingly, Matrix Revolutions.

But you cling on, cling on for dear life. Not because we’re members of the Tom Hanks Appreciation Society, but because for some reason, even though we’re forced to play catch up for the first hour, we do so because frankly we’re captivated. Halle Berry had fallen out of favour with me since her appalling diva fit during X-Men 1 & 2 (I hold her responsible for the flop the movie became), but she has made huge progress and has won the lost favour again. Hugo Weaving returns to the Wachowskis again with typically menacing fashion, from cross dressed nursery home matron, to a 70′s assassin, he is suited in these rather typecast roles. Special mention must go to Hugh Grant for his 70′s suit, it’s fantastic, and Hanks as an Irish muscle man who disagrees with a critic by throwing him out of a 20th floor balcony, much to the shock of the guests at the accompanying cocktail party!

It charts six stories, all interwoven by the same actors playing different characters throughout various ages span over 100′s of years. The ideal, that our lives are interwoven, is explained in lurid detail, taking no prisoners whilst doing so. If it’s not the scenes, flicking from one era to another almost whimsically, or the english dialogue spoken by the natives which is peculiarly warped, then it’s the story that will surely have your head spinning until the end where the tapestry is finally woven together.

It is a startlingly beautiful achievement and is as epic a movie as can be expected as per the mesmerising trailers. The soundtrack is captivating, and in fact forms the basis for some of the back story, and the visuals are as breathtaking as they are shocking.

The world created by the Wachowskis in a totalitarian futurist ‘Neo Seoul’ is incredible, providing to me with one of the most believable and alluring creations I’ve ever seen. Frankly, this one single thread of this tapestry is worthy of its own film by itself and I’d pay to see that. Not only because of the set pieces, but the ‘Bladerunner’ story is told with verve and had me shivering from one reveal to the next.

Whether the brothers hit the mark and effectively get their message across is up for discussion. I figure a few more viewings for me before I can have the moment of epiphany and herald myself as a movie godking. Until the Bluray appears, I’ll simply settle for the great visuals, compelling storyline and an editing job that deserves an oscar in itself.

With plenty feel good moments, lumps in throat and hoorays, it’s a telling sign of the achievement of the movie that it can hit the notes so perfectly.

Because for that long, it’s been the number plate on my car. B10WDG. A good friend of mine, Adam, bought it for me that long ago and it’s been on every single car I’ve owned since then.

It has a lot of sentimental value because it’s my identifier. Every photo of my car has that plate on it.Except I no longer have possession of it as it’s been stolen from me.

When I sold my Green GT3RS (pictured above), in August 2010 to a Richard Baldwin, there was an agreement that he would return my cherished plate to me by retention. He’d been in my house, brought his children along and I’d come to trust the guy as he gave me no reason not to.

Nearly 3 years on and he still hasn’t returned it. He has even put it in writing to a police investigation that he would promise to return the plate to me on retention. There is an infinite trail of text messages, phone calls, voicemails and emails that all show his failed promises.

So, this plate that means so much to me, even have the plate pressed and created for my Ducati, is actually far from my grasp.

I understand he has been on the run for a while now from a number of people chasing him surrounding a number of dishonest deals. So I ask anyone, what advice would you give?

Would DVLA honour the deal in his absence and reissue me the plate? Or should I go the legal route?

Disney, Pixar, Dreamworks – enough to get any adult excited. Strange given the films are directly intended for kids. But they possess so many hidden layers these days that it’s impossible to not get drawn into them as an adult.

So I always enjoy watching these movies with my two girls. Add to that video games references from the 80′s and I was literally shouting at the screen “It’s Ryu from Streetfighter! Zangief! Q*bert!” Ad infinitum.

It’s a lovingly crafted story that packs all the emotional punch we expect from a modern Disney movie. And the detail is fantastic, with sprites created so passionately, even the way they move is reminiscent.

Clearly, I’m a sucker to the marketing machine of Disney. Get the parents hooked and the kids follow. I remember when I was a kid, I would be the one asking my parents to take me to the cinema.

Now, I’m just chomping at the bit for the next animated excellence.

Arnold is just not a good actor. No, really he isn’t. But what he had, he has carried through 40 years of film making is charisma and character. Protein buckets full of it.

So when we look back at the original cheese of films such as Running Man, Total Recall and True Lies (Goddamn that was a good film), then we can excuse the poor acting because, well, because it’s Arnie!

So Colin Farrell brings brings with him a certain lack of this je ne sais quoi leaving us to judge the film by its merits instead.

So, if there were an Oscar nomination for ‘Most Gratuitous Use of Lens Flare’, it would be without peer. Or, ‘Tactless Presentation of Kate Beckinsale’s Butt’, again it would stand tall, head above the crowd.

But there isn’t. It’s a 2 hour chase movie, the scenes of which largely are executed well with obvious acknowledgements to Blade Runner, urban backdrops rich with decay and technology. It’s also disappointing that it doesn’t follow the plot of the original and eschews it in favour of this localised trauma of North v South, although I have to admit ‘The Fall’ is a fantastic concept. It also has some excellent tech design, something I can relate to professionally.

There’s an excellent acknowledgement to the original during the airport scan, be sure to not miss it, it had me smiling. Add to that some pretty nifty robotic cops then you have the right ingredients, but it falls flat on its face with some preposterous scenes of unbelievable insult to the viewer that you can’t help but make your cup of tea WITHOUT pausing it.

And that, my friends, is the ultimate insult.

Avoided any trailers and only absorbed the comments from a few friends who persuaded me to watch it.

After 20 minutes of gruelling introductions to the Bush jnr. method of interrogations (I had to wiki water-boarding), I was concerned that I’d committed to a movie dramatising American sensationalism. I’m really not a fan.

But my cynicism was misplaced as I enjoy a 2 hour culmination of intense, exciting drama surrounding the efforts the CIA place into capturing and eliminating key Al-Qaeda targets.

Don’t expect Black Hawk Down action. It’s not that type of movie. It gains your respect through a climatic build up that places you in the heart of Jessica Chastai (who is super cute) and her relentless, self deprecating efforts to achieve her goals at any cost.

Great performances that highlight this somewhat turbulent era baked in terrorism. Those of us who have a little scepticism surrounding whether Bin Laden actually ever exists or if the entire USA is embroiled in some form of perverted, futile vain effort to plug the failures of the senior Bush administration need to just switch off any conspiracy theories and just accept this as a possible branch in the tree of 9/11 possibilities, despite the film’s overtly persuasive attempts to inform us that it is all based on true accounts and that THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

This happens.

Joaquin Phoenix is such a powerhouse in this movie, his mesmerising performance dictating, nay, commanding your attention each and every time he has a scene. It’s captivating stuff really as we follow his descent into destructive, addictive personality disorders, sympathising, even fearful at times, as he falls slowly down the spiral, eventually landing in the care of Philip Seymour Hoffman. Utterly absorbed in his role, even down to his physical gait that changes and becomes ever more exaggerated as the movie progresses.

We are eventually asked to make considerations as to the true purpose of the relationship between the alcoholic and the psychologist/philosopher/cultist and we can all draw upon reasoned and logical conclusion there.

There are solid breaks occasionally where you feel the plot has either dragged or jumped sections and there are questions unanswered, but Amy Adams plugs these holes providing us with the occasional hint that things aren’t as they seem.

Either way, I’ve not seen such incredible performances from a movie in a while, assuring us that it is still possible for the skills of an actor to carry a movie, regardless of the strength of its plot.

Ten years old this year, Homeworld 2, for me, exhibits qualities that mark it as one of the greatest games ever created. It’s replay value still continues to astonish me as every couple of years, I dust off my copy and load up the game, glad to hear of the various hacks that enable me to play this antiquated game on a Windows 7 PC.

For those of you who are either products of a newer gaming generation, or perhaps you’ve been living under a rock, Homeworld 2 is a space sim of astonishing beauty. Set in deep space, you are surrounded by eerie music, stunning backdrops of nebulas, collapsing stars and leviathan chunks of debris that throw hints towards a bygone era of space travel that predates anything you’re engaged in.

As commander of a homeless mothership, you hyper-jump from mission to mission, engaged in a never ending battle between the Vagyr whilst occasionally defending yourself from dormant alien vessels intent on protecting some yet unfound treasure from you.

Combining aspects of resource gathering with heavy strategic real time combat, the game creates an alchemy of intense fleet management that is as exciting as it is upsetting. You silently cheer as your controlled fleet of 7 interceptor squadrons succesfully repel a bomber fleet, yet over the AI tannoy you hear “Battlecruiser lost”.

It’s moments like this that make you realise how atteched you become to your fleet, knowing in detail the quantities of each of your ship types and trying hard to ensure they make it to the next mission.

It’s damned hard too, but games didn’t know how to troll back then. You die because you made a mistake. No problem, try a different strategy.

It’s so beautiful to play in too. Vapour trails follow each ship and missiles leave off smoke lines and it’s not until you zoom in out of curiosity to watch the missile in flight you realise that it actually splits into 4 micro missiles, each with their own vapour trails, creating a stunningly captivating fireworks display as one by one they strike their target.

There’s also some secret to the textures and models as they are clearly designed by a team of people who know and understand sci-fi. Many films have been studied here and they’ve got some excellent models, especially the mothership.

The music is haunting and the entire game feels grandiose, it’s better than you because it’s dealing with a level of intelligence that has transcended theology and simple pursuits.

This game makes it to my top 3 games of all time. Nothing else to say.

A new addition to the library of 80′s throwback gaming is Proteus on Steam. It’s an explorative game that has no instruction and simply relies on your inquisition and instinct to guide you through a journey through the seasons.

The mood is changed accordingly as you approach various objects, with rain providing a suitable ambient background soundtrack, to the bouncing melodies of rabbits jumping away from you.

Visually it shares little with anything else, but there is a sense of the Minecraft world to it in terms of terrain and exploration, but without the interaction that makes Minecraft such a treasure.

I had been wandering the land without much interest to my surroundings, watching as spring became summer and autumn became winter. I realised that I had been chasing the end game without much care of the developments around me, curious as to why this game had received such grand reviews until I realised that I had been playing for well over an hour.

I champion these games that go against the multi-million dollar investments to franchised titles. I love the fact that I play more of these games than any Call of Black Duty Ops Honour could ever entice me to.

Despite this game firing an 8bit blank for me, I still am gladdened by its existence. Although at £6 I suspect it doesn’t provide such great value with no apparent replay opportunity.

I don’t know of any other musical genre with so many variations of its core foundations. I won’t begin to list them here, but this offering from Spectrasoul further adds to the genre with soulful, melodic tunes that are a perfect background to any given situation.

It’s simple to listen to but rewarding with some beautiful accompanying vocals. It’s clever, thoughtful and textured with some delightfully crisp layers.

If you like this, grap Bop too. Hate to pigeon hole, but…

This is classy stuff. Thanks again to the Hospital Records podcast and London Elektricity for shouting about it.

I’ve decided to put some words down about it as I recently was fortunate enough to watch it again. We have a micro cinema set up in my office now and it lends itself to some excellent opportunities to watch movies with friends without disturbing anyone.

For those unaware, Drive marks Ryan Goslings explosion into cinema cool and I reckon he has enough cool to place this movie up there with McQueen in Bullet.

It’s a quiet movie that depends heavily on the delivery of faultless cinematography, an incredible soundtrack and the ambient backdrop of everyday noise.

It works delightfully and doesn’t at any point feel that the dialogue is too light or lacking. The visuals are striking and it’s obvious that this movie production has thought a lot about its 90′s style.

Plenty of moments to cherish, from the glance that both screen couple give each other during an awkward shared moment (and they absolutely nail it), to the surfacing of a slightly unhinged Gosling on occasion, the violence is often abrupt and shocking but served within context and meaning.

As a car buff I have criticisms and this is apparent in many car films, but no car has 12 gears and I just wish that they could choreograph car audio with actions. When you’re cornering, you’re not shifting up a gear and accelerating hard at the same time. It’s not hard to do and I can’t understand why they can’t do it properly.

Still, it’s beautiful, charismatic and Gosling walks a very fine line between uber-cool and autistic, but luckily manages to say the right things at the right time. He IS a social recluse, but this lack of social expertise makes his somewhat unbelievable delivery of justice somewhat believable. He’s unhinged enough to pull it off.

Returning to music, it’s combination of the awesome Cliff Martinez (who did Solaris and Traffic – check the soundtracks out for them if you don’t know) and a brilliant opener by Kavinsky.

Be prepared for some of the best gangster lines on TV. Oh and Carey Mulligan is simply stunning, a woman to protect indeed.

As I rolled home from another insane, blurred ride home, bike leaning on its side as it tink’ed its way down to a cooler temperature, I had a moment of epiphany that summarised this newfound obsession of mine.

Let’s say, for arguments sake, that we are all subject to judgement based on what we write on blogs. So I’ll assume what follows is all conjecture and supposition.

There are no rules. It’s as simple as that. After 22 years of driving fast cars, I’ve come to understand the folly of enjoying A-B driving. What is that then? Well it constitutes many journeys, from driving to work to going shopping. It’s the moments between the epic motoring events that sustain us throughout. Only problem is, in a car, our one greatest enemy is traffic. This makes this mildy entertaining pursuit null and void and can, quite often, turn an innocent drive into an extraordinarily frustrating chore.

Cars become chicanes and congestion is something associated with Lemsip

No such thing on a bike. Traffic is a word that does not compute. Cars become chicanes and congestion is something associated with Lemsip. This in itself is a wonderful thing, except it becomes self perpetuating. The added freedom provided by the lack of any hindrance to progress only fuels you further and the filtering between traffic becomes a bit of a game really. What was normally a 70 minute door to door journey by public transport has been reduced to a 15 minute Road Rash frenzy.

Sometimes the excitement overflows as I sit on a red light waiting for it to change, scarcely noticing myself as I find myself bobbing to and fro from a massive build up of adrenaline that is just bursting to be ejected through some form of kinetic release.

But what does it mean to become the roads biggest bully? I was taught to be ‘king of the road’ by my schooling coach, who was, I have to say, spectacular. An awesome personification of all things motorbike. Bearded, weathered and gruff, he was keen to remind me to take the ownership of the road by force as it belonged to me.

I repeat this mantra daily. I’m the first to pull away. The last to be seen. Oblivious to any insults or accusations I may have triggered and I am care free to the frustrations that plague my brethren of old. I am no longer a lemming, I am free and in control of my time of arrival and nature of my journey.

I arrive now at my destination thrilled, energised and excited. There’s a hidden smile nobody can see beneath my helmet and I swagger into the building with a false sense of immortality as I realise I’ve completely rewritten the rules of the road.

Actually, when I say swagger what I mean is a rushed jog back indoors to avoid the inevitable siren that often follows any pursuit of fun in this country.

Of course, all the above is just conjecture and hypothetical. Thumbs up.

So why am I posting about it now? The first time I played the game, I progressed quite far until I got fatally frustrated with it and threw it onto the shelf never to see it again. At least, until I watched a video of someone playing it on Twitch again, which sparked some rekindled interest.

I decided to give it another go and try this time to play it with a more favourable character set up. Pure mage characters are indescribably flawed in the game and I found playing with it a constant cycle of ‘reloading save games’ that had me throwing controllers in anger. The thief/assassin get up has proven so far to be a much stronger and better suited character to the gameworld as the archery skill is clearly a main focal point to the game.

Set 200 years further down the timeline, the game is the fifth instalment to the popular Elder Scrolls series of RPG games based on the fictional realm of Tamriel. This has given the game world plenty of time to develop a dynamic, vibrant world rich in lore. There is literally days worth of dialogue in the game, some frustrating, some having developed internet meme levels of fame.

The open gameworld format means the freedom expressed in the virtual world is immense. There is never any obligation or pressure to fullfil any quest line, be it main or side. It allows you to continue to explore the world, develop your character and simply enjoy the incredibly beautiful scenery that has made this game so damn successful.

I’ve also recently bought an expansion, Hearthfire. I never normally buy expansions, but this addition allows you to draft your own manors, build houses and furnish them in your own personal way.

It’s far from perfect though. 360 load times can be frustrating, especially if you’re in an errand boy quest line, having to run from inside to outside constantly triggering reloads. It has also been described as a little tedious and a bit of a chore. I must admit it’s rare I’ll listen to any dialogue now, choosing instead to fast skip the scenes and get on with the game play.

Recent games like Far Cry 3 have also shown how a proper stealth game should work. Skyrim does it too, but there are comedy moments sometimes, such as city guards staring straight at you as you are in supposed ‘stealth mode’.

The sheer dynamic depth of the game lends itself to exploration. They’ve managed to silence some of the criticisms from Oblivion, such as repetetive dungeon layouts, by creating a much more vibrant and colourful world. I’m still occassionally thrust into dungeons that are quite beautifully designed, forcing me to spend a few seconds to look around.

When a game can do that, I’ll champion it. And with a beautifully haunting soundtrack, graphics that are pushed to the limits and believable gameworld physics, it contains a level of quality and sheen that I haven’t seen in a long time. You are clearly in the company of developers and designers heavily influenced by the Lord of the Rings trilogy as there are vivid aural and visual comparisons to be seen.

If it weren’t for its buggy nature, I’d give it a higher score. But it has bugs. A lot of them. The massive depth of missions and quests mean that sometimes there are crossovers and you’re supposed to interact with an NPC that you also murdered on a previous quest, meaning you cannot progress the mission anymore. Also, I rage when I’m trying to get through a door way but I can’t because my mercenary helper is just standing there and doesn’t get out of the way. Why does a helper have a higher model priority than me? I should be able to just push him aside but I can’t.

I absolutely love the way that there are no invisible barriers as you can often have with sandbox games. Mountains, if at all plausible, can be climbed, enabling clever shortcuts, but getting stuck in an invisible crevice forcing reloads is no fun.

I’m playing more this time round than the first attempt a year ago. Which is strange. I guess it proves that some games are like fine wines and are better enjoyed with age.

In less than 5 months from passing my motorbike test, I’d already reached the pinnacle of the Motorbike. The Ducati Panigale has been internationally recognised as a massive leap in motorbike production terms, having pushed the goal posts so far ahead it’s feared that it will take many years for others to catch up.

With global awards being collected in the 100′s, the Panigale motorbike is the fastest, lightest, loudest, sexiest object I have ever used.

When I first saw details of this bike I decided that my competence was irrelevant, I had to have one. I had never seen something so beautifully made. Seemed also I was not alone in this estimation, some people reportedly buying two – one for the garage and one for the living room. A dry example that would serve as an exotic piece of art. I can totally get that.

But this is just a touch of its vast abilities. So I’m going to split this up into three, consumable bite size sections that any layman can understand.

Aesthetics

Just. Look at it.
I have never had a car where I’ve just walked out of my house, into the garage to look at it. I am ashamed to say it, but I put a sofa into my garage now. I sometimes take a drink with me, maybe a cigar, light it up and just bask in the glory of it. Is that wrong? I think it’s ok. I think it’s ok to appreciate art and to allow yourself to wallow in the euphoric gratitude of perfectly sculpted aluminium and carbon. A project that a select number of expert individuals have clearly poured heart and soul into, the type of Latin soul that is free from the confines and restrictions of corporate ideals.

it’s not unlike, I suspect, being thrown out of an aeroplane without a parachute

Sound

First time I started a Panigale, I said “Get the f***”. These Italians have a nonsensical view of the world. I suspect their every endeavour begins with “Wouldn’t it be cool if we could do X” because there doesn’t seem to be any form of acknowledgement for law or order. Is every living Italian an undercover anarchist? Are they anti establishmentarianists?

When I ride up and down a road, people on mobile phones plug their other ears. People scowl, they frown, they duck into an imaginary space of silence around their chest area, assuming some form of magic will make me disappear. But I don’t. I’m still there. 1200cc’s of v-twin competing to be the most anti social bully on the road.

And don’t even talk to me about the upshifts on cold. Those bangs are shotgun loud and belong in a WW2 movie.

Power

I’ve owned and driven a lot of very very fast cars. From hyper tuned Japanese cars, to 600BHP Italian exotics. They are quick, make no doubt, but this is on another scale.
I’ve been asked what it feels like and I always answer, it’s not unlike, I suspect, being thrown out of an aeroplane without a parachute.
There are times when you are just holding on for dear life and you are there simply for the ride. About 130MPH, your eyeballs start to vibrate in the sockets and the sensory overload feels warp speed. You don’t know where you’re going, you don’t know how this is going to end and you don’t know what’s on the other side. All you know is that you are going very, very, very fast indeed.

To see proof of this, watch this fantastic video of my exact bike versus a 997 GT2 RS

I’m so utterly in love with this bike, it’s embedded into my very psyche. I sometimes wake up mid sleep with a convulsion, having just reenacted a scene from a ride out earlier that day.

I performed the California Superbike School earlier this year. I want to become a better rider. I want to hone my skills as I want to give this bike my total respect. It’s a frightening tool that should be classed as a weapon. It’s loud and dangerous and has me screaming in my helmet at times from undiluted joy and euphoria.

I’ve taken my pick of vehicles. There is nothing on the planet that can do A-B faster than this bike. Add to that actually. There’s nothing that can do A-B with as many smiles.

More later…I need to go stroke it.

NEEDED. How did I ever let something so beautiful slip me by without my prior recognition?

I didn’t buy a Ducati at first because I thought it was too good for me. I didn’t want to be the guy to walk into a motorbike shop, buy a ridiculously powerful bike, be all the gear with no idea and pull an unintentional wheelie upon my departure from the showroom planting the bike solidly into the back of a parked bus. I left that all for the next month.

When the 675 was stolen, it was an opportunity to upgrade. Clearly having defined and honed my immense biking skills over the past few weeks, 675cc was not enough. 848 was where it was all at.

the bike looked and sounded absolutely incredible

I had suddenly entered a new world of biking where glam met grunge. Curiously, the pattern we see in cars is repeated in bikes. Italians can design the shit outta them. Being the Ferrari of the biking world, the bikes are built to look and sound great – which they do with aplomb.

The 848 is a great looking bike on its own, but then in Corse colours, its elevated to an even higher plane. With all my trick parts fitted, including the Termignoni exhaust pipe and tail tidy, the bike looked and sounded absolutely incredible.

I used it to commute to work every single day during my tenure with this bike. I also started to learn bikes properly. Lean angles, throttle input, riding position; all these things started to come together to help make me a better rider. I was also able to feel the differences between one bike and the other. The handling on the 848 for example was quite different to the 675, as was the power delivery, despite similar figures. Overall, very happy with the decision to go for the Duke over another 675R.

I can dissect a car down to its core values and offer enough experienced commentary to establish myself as qualified opinion.

However, with motorbikes I’m starting from a blank canvas, which makes any form of judgement on this bike completely pointless.

It’s also a high benchmark. You see, I’m starting my motorbiking life on a high note. Most people would go for a comfortable tourer or a cheap bike that won’t hurt when dropped. Instead, I promised myself not to drop it and to make sure I was safe and sensible.

a fantastic entry level foray into the world of sports bikes

What I can tell you is that I bought a bike that was way beyond my competence. As a first bike, it was actually a fantastic experience and is the equivalent to diving into the deep end.

It’s a nuts and bolts bike, but it’s british, sexy and fast. For me, that’s all that mattered and it offered itself as a fantastic entry level foray into the world of sports bikes. It’s a track focused machine, differing from its standard stablemates by way of uprated brakes and suspension that gives it, allegedly, pin sharp handling characteristics.

It’s also a triple which means it has a very unique, distinct soundtrack. Some people love this, some hate it, I sit in the middle I guess.

Unfortunately, my relationship with this beauty was short lived as it was stolen mere weeks after I bought it, you can read about that more on the site I created about it www.motorbikethieves.com

But as they say, every cloud has a silver lining…

I didn’t want to go full on with anything exotic, but wanted a saloon car with 4 doors and a big engine. It really only came down to the M3 and the C63 and both offered very different propositions, despite practically identical layouts.

Both were big V8′s, both were saloon car layout, RWD and shared equal levels of german build quality wrapped in a quasi-Q-car package.

My decision ultimately came down to the noise. If you’ve never heard a C63 full chat, then please go and experience it. It’s intoxicating and has a genuine Nascar sensation to it. How they get these cars through type approval is a miracle but somebody somewhere is taking a massive bribe because it simply should not be legal.

I really didn’t get to spend much time with mine, but it was a PPP version which meant it came with the factory performance upgrade and had some great looking cosmetics. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until I got back to London from having bought it in Liverpool that I realised something was wrong with it.

Turns out the previous owner had stripped out the suspension and replaced it with some god awful aftermarket stuff. The garage who sold me the car offered to replace the whole kit for standard suspension but only offered to get it done at an independent garage.

reverbs across building facades with complete and utter indignation

This worried me so I agreed a buy back price which cost me £3,000 in the end.

I have rose tinted specs when thinking of this car. It was super quick for a saloon, but then with near 500BHP powering the rear wheels, it should be. I could plant my left foot on the brakes and floor the accelerator and within 5 seconds you’d be blinded by a thick, dense cloud of smoke whilst counting the dollar signs you were burning through the tyres you’d just vapourised.

I also do not like traction control on any car and often turn it off as soon as I’m comfortable. But in the AMG, that’s akin to leaving a suicide note. In the dry, it scarcely finds enough traction through its feeble rear wheels (which are grossly inadequately sized for this power) and it spins in almost every gear. In the wet, it’s a pure joke as the tyres just spin freely and the speedo actually does not go any higher. It’s not fun, just dangerous.

A very shallow learning curve though as the car wasn’t deep in its breadth of abilities, but it still had character. It was very comfortable, had beautiful interior that was well build and a level of quality you’d expect from a premium Mercedes model.

With fuel consumption often dipping to single figures (saw 8MPG once), it simply was not suited to road use day to day. I was filling up petrol almost every other day and it became quite ridiculous.

I loved the car. If the fuel consumption was any better and the rear tyres were fatter, I’d suspect this would be an incredible car. The noise is insane with aggressive throttle punches rewarded with the cackle and bangs of a rude hot rod on overrun as it pops through the night and reverbs across building facades with complete and utter indignation.

This car needs an ASBO. I know the M3 is probably a ‘better’ car. Dynamism and focus wasn’t the C63 strongpoints, but what you get is a hooligan with a massive powerplant and delightful audio cinematics. Better than a cup of coffee for sure.

So I told myself to take the test so that I may never be graced with a rejection like that again. I didn’t even know if I’d buy a bike, still believing that they were dangerously irresponsible and just too far from the creature comforts I’m used to.

Then I started taking my test. The enjoyment I got out of the bike was sudden. Like a motoring rebirth, the sense of freedom suddenly bestowed upon me was magnificent and I became an immediate, overnight convert.

During those cold bitter harsh months of January to March 2012, I learnt how to ride with vigour and enthusiasm committing myself 100% to the lessons I was taking at Metropolis Motorcycles, where a great relationship started to form.

Eventually, passing my test, I went and did the most ridiculous thing and bought myself a beautiful brand new Triumph 675R. You can read about that in another article.

Truth is, taking my bike test was one of the most enjoyable things I’ve ever done, not least because it was shared with good friend Andy who was a fantastic pillar throughout. If you have an opportunity to do this, then relish it and enjoy it. It surely ranks as one of the last, unfiltered demonstrations of freedom we can experience on the open road.

It’s over now, 2013 is around the corner and I’ve got good hopes for the year.

I still love my cars, but I have a new hobby and you’ll soon see by the articles going up what that new hobby is.

Also, because of my temporary hiatus from cars, I’ve focused on the review segment of this site and will hope to start publishing my thoughts on the films, games, books and music I enjoy.

Thanks for being here and appreciate the occasional emails I get from fellow participants of this site kicking my arse back into gear again. Nice to know I have at least 2 readers.

When you first graced my consciousness with your divinity, I remember life was never the same. From the very beginning of Fellowship of the Ring, when you inflicted instant colonic breakdown with the intro’s to beat all other intro’s, right up until the battle to end all battles with Return of the King, you never failed, ever, to entertain me right to my very core.

It’s the reason why I can safely say your trilogy ranks as my number one movie of all time. Pure, unadulterated magnificence. And I can enjoy it with my kids too!

You’ve had your critics though. People haven’t exactly been enamoured by your decision to film at 48 fps. Some have claimed the resulting effect has cheapened the feel of Tolkiens world by appearing ‘too tv’. To an extent I agree, it felt sometimes like I was watching a soap opera that didn’t have the feel of a massive production behind it.

But then I had faith in you, so I waited patiently for the moneyshot. And it came. Just as Bilbo was on horseback with his merry 13 dwarves riding through the rain, I could swear for a second I felt like I could taste the rain. The reality of the shot was simply mind blowing. This effect did not wear off as you led us through your trademark battle scenes that had a level of clarity and realism to it that had me wear a permanent smile in your honour.

There is a little goofiness to the film, it’s certainly a lot less ‘adult’ than LOTR and its unfortunate that Jackson’s toughest benchmark is himself. But the LOTR was an altogether different book in itself. It was darker, hopeless and bleak. Hobbit has a bounce to it that at first feels a little nauseating, feeling at times you’re watching Tellytubbies. But then its appropriate. Because it is about a Hobbit, a happy go lucky half-ling thrown way out of his comfort zone.

Peter Jackson said a while ago that Martin Freeman was born to play Bilbo Baggins, I can see why. He takes the role with natural relish and carries with him an innocent nonchalance and mischief that matches the role perfectly. I used to think that I wouldn’t be able to watch The Hobbit without thinking “Oh look it’s Tim from The Office”, but now I suspect every time I watch The Office, I’ll be saying “It’s Bilbo Baggins!”

The dwarves are excellent to watch as a team. They rub off each other with comedy and seriousness alike. There are times when the fantasy is stretched to beyond what even I would class as feasible, watching for example, all 13 dwarves plummet hundreds of feet down a goblin mountain pit to certain death, only to get up and blow off the sawdust. Then when you watch every single member juggle the dishes between them and put them into neat piles is nothing other than gay delight.

I freaking loved this film. It’s slow to start with, but that’s necessary given that there are 15 main characters to the film and we need to be introduced to every single one of them, but three hours passes without a glitch. I’m just glad Jackson returned to the helm like the pro he is.

[EDIT] Two weeks later, I went with my daughter to watch it again at my local cinema. This time, in normal 2D with regular 24 FPS and I have to say, I didn’t like it! The detail was gone, I no longer felt like a participant and it seemed to have lost that magic. Strange. I guess I’ll stand by my earlier comment. Go and watch it the way Jackson intended.

If you’ve not heard of BoI and you’re a gamer, then you’ve been living under a rock. Designed and built by a two man team, the title has garnered international support and success in equal measure.

It’s a top down maze game harking back to an 8 bit era where games were simple and endeavours achievable. It’s this simplicity that makes the game so compelling, with nearly 200 power ups in the game and an infinite amount of combinations to these powerups, every single play through becomes a unique experience.

And it’s hard. So hard. I believe the game has introduced the term ‘trolling’, when the map and monster combos are randomly generated are so ridiculously impossible, you feel like mashing the keyboard to a pulp. Except instead you simply restart from the beginning, fresh with naked ambition and renewed curiosity for what that very first treasure room will reveal.

It’s also a game that’s frightfully addictive to just watch other people play, as the recent Twitch.tv figures will show.

I love it as it flies and spits in the face of modern video game convention. Games do not need teams of 100′s of people and budgets of millions of pounds to be successful. Each time I play this, it feels fresh. Good game Edmund McMillen and Florian Himsl, good game.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve had my eye on a particular car, this amazing LP550-2 Tricolore.

At its heart lies the familiar 5.2 V10 engine but with drive only going to the rear wheels with a deficit of 10PS (hence the 550 monicker), alluding to the ethos Lamborghini is trying to preach about less being more. I’ve read a lot about the Balboni and how it’s the best drivers V10 Lamborghini make and I could quite believe it. As incredible as the LP560-4 is, you really do notice the 4WD system, especially on tight bends on track – you feel a slight hovering on the front and a disconnect that punishes any communication you had with the front wheels.

The Tricolore comes fully loaded with every option you’d need on a Gallardo and also comes with carbon wing mirrors and side skirts together with that very cool Italian stripe both across the whole car and also across the drivers seat.

This all being moot, of course, as I’m simply fulfilling some perverted fetish to satisfy a craving for supercars that has left me utterly malnourished over the past 12 months.

Unfortunately, the car wasn’t at London, having being shipped out to Manchester for some showroom sharing – with Ferrari taking valuable floor space whilst their own dealership is having a massive renovation, Lambo London have scant spots to keep these cars.

Instead, they had some other top line V10 cars. First thing to catch your eye in the showroom is the stunning LP570-4 Superleggera, looking fantastic in white. This car really does look best in either black or white, with the carbon exterior trim and dark wheels complementing the car beautifully. Even amongst a company of Lamborghini’s, the SL looks expensive.

Tucked away at the far corner of the showroom was yet another special edition Gallardo. The big difference between this, though, is a significant amount of engineering change. It’s the £225,000, big breath, Lamborghini Gallardo LP570-4 Blancpain Special Edition. It’s basically a road version of the Super Trofeo race series Gallardo. Boasting even more weight saving courtesy of a carbon fibre diet, the car improves it’s power to weight without any engine changes. Personally, I thought the spoiler looked a little ridiculous for a road car and felt the changes removed the purity of the standard shape.

Finally, a Performante. “What’s this? Another limited edition?”. Well, kind of. It’s a convertible version of the Superleggera basically. Aesthetically, it just doesn’t look right. Appreciate it’s Lamborghini’s response to Ferrari’s 16M, but the spoilers, deep front skirts and horrific stickers across the car, combined with the plastic looking engine cover, make this one of the least desirable V10′s for me. No doubt it’s incredible to drive, but this isn’t something I’d be proud to see in the reflections of shop windows as I drive past. What, I’m the only person that does that?

A short walk around the back to where Ferrari have taken up temporary residence and I’m immediately taken back by the surreal presence of the 458. As the dealer went to great pains to explain, Ferrari don’t evolve their cars, they totally reinvent them – and I can totally believe that.

With a 430 Spyder parked next to a 458, the leaps and bounds achieved in the newer model really does put the ageing car into the shade. I can only describe it as a mini Enzo and even parked it was capable of giving me a little shiver.

However, with prices starting at £200k for used examples, it’s only a matter of time before the bottom falls out of these cars. Incredibly, these cars now come with 7 years free servicing and with Lamborghini now giving 4 years factory warranty to all new cars, it’s about time Porsche took note. Each dealer was also full of encouragement with track usage, citing no warranty dangers as such.

Have a test drive booked in a 458 next week. It’s an incredible car with the most fantastic, driver focused interior I’ve ever seen. I honestly believe it represents the very pinnacle of automotive engineering with so much high tech F1 know how crammed into the car, it presents a very different proposition to the slightly ‘agricultural’ feel of the Gallardo’s. The dealer was very happy to remind me that the V10 Gallardo’s were now based on 10 year chassis technology. It’s a huge fact that’s worth considering when buying these cars.

When talking Ferrari’s, it’s clear you’re buying into a club, more so in fact than Lamborghini. The Red car dealer doesn’t want to sell you a car, he wants to sell you 10 cars over 10 years. As you take delivery of your car, he’s determined to take your deposit down for the next one. This is pretty typical of an average Ferrari owner frankly, demonstrating that he’s more interested in owning the next best car, rather than a subjective decision based on individual merit. Even as Louis Walsh walked in, newspaper in hand, I was for a split moment completely ignored mid-conversation as the dealer walked over to him instead.

We eventually concluded that everybody loves a Lamborghini, but Ferrari’s are either loved or hated, despite their obvious game changing car, the 458. It’s clearly a massive step forward and is no doubt a better car dynamically than the V10.

Couldn’t help feel though that as impressive as the soundtrack on the new V8 was, it sounded quite artificial and I wondered if in doing so, some spark in its soul was lost? Just can’t beat that V10 sound really.

I’ve been driving around in a Mini Cooper S for about a year now and it’s actually quite a good car. It was nearly £30k new (not what I paid) so it’s impressively loaded. If anyone wants to know more about the roller skate let me know and I’ll throw some words together.

The Alpina is pretty much ready. Nearly.

As you may know I collected the car from my nightmare garage earlier this year and drove it straight into my garage, made it SORN and completely forgot about it.

Recently, I’ve been more interested in it. I think the lack of a more dramatic piece of exotica has forced my attention to it’s quirky nature. Getting this car done was a complete nightmare. It went from company to company, from one side of the country to the other. The workshops working on the car would eventually call me, begging me to take the car away as they were sick of seeing it. Neatly 18 months of stress and tears.

So here we are. As you can see from the photos, the car is pretty much immaculate. The body shell is almost without fault with not a single piece of rust anywhere. The whole car has been completely resprayed from a bare shell. Any consumable component of the car has been replaced with many other items changed too. New suspension system, complete new braking system, all pipes, replacement original Alpina exhaust system and an engine rebuild.

As I said, it’s not perfect. There’s a strong smell of fuel in the car (almost certain there’s a leak on the fuel lines), there’s lately a lot of smoke too from the exhaust – that shouldn’t happen with the new gaskets etc. I also think the engine could do with a proper good map. It seems a little down on its power, but that may have more to do with the fact that with all the holes filled, the car weighs more!

Official figures:

Source: http://www.unixnerd.demon.co.uk/alpina.html

Other than that, I’m still desperate to find a replacement drivers seat. The ‘houndstooth’ cloth trim has been damaged over time and I cannot get a replacement anywhere. Also, one of the scumbags who worked on the car has stolen the original Alpina wooden gearstick.

Otherwise, I love it. It sounds fantastic, that 2.7 really does have a unique, honey smooth sound to it that is very typical of the E30 six cylinders of that era. I also think it’s one of the best looking E30′s on the road now.

I would gladly take some recommendations for a good workshop who I can trust to do some mechanical work on the car to complete it.

My neck hurts, so I’ll also be sending Nissan a bill to ensure that I am treated by expert masseurs in ensuring my spine has not encountered alignment issues from the brutal centrifugal forces at work at every roundabout, shifting the very fabric of my tissue, muscle and sinew to such an extent, I feel like a Hellraiser demon with all exposed internals etc.

Furthermore, it was a gross inappropriate expectation to have me spending more time looking at my rear view mirror than out of my windscreen in anticipation of the impending arrest and subsequent media circus frenzy that would no doubt have escalated from having turned myself into the first road user to ever discover time travel from a chance encounter during some unholy speed and g-force combination to provide some until now undiscovered mathematical equation. This irregular impact of stress upon myself should not go unnoticed.

I have spent the past three, glorious days in a 2011 Nissan GTR. Most of you know the drill by now. What’s different? More power, up to 523BHP, bigger brakes, better aero (less drag better MPG) and new wheels. See here for a complete list of changes. 2011 GT-R – THE BEST GETS BETTER – GT-R Register – Official Nissan Skyline and GTR Owners Club forum

Quite simply put, this is an astonishingly fast and competent car. I can end the review right now by saying, if what you want is the quickest point to point car in the universe, then look no further. To compound matters by pricing it under £70k does nothing other than send super car owners into fits of apoplexy.

What makes it so devastatingly quick is beyond my comprehension. My Lamborghini LP560, with 550 BHP and less weight, is not this quick. Nor is it so damn well equipped, with every luxury conceivable thrown into the mix. Sat nav, dual zone climate control, cruise, bluetooth, iphone integration, heated leather seats – and four seats with a boot.

It makes a compelling argument against the supercar establishment. Certainly, in pure performance figures, if you remove the Nissan name, you have a car that can destroy all but the most functional track devices on road and off. So why do we still aspire to the illogical, impracticalities of super car ownership when the GTR gives us more than we’ll ever need? We’ll come back to this later. It’s a conundrum, make no mistake.

Let’s talk about the performance of this car.

Every time I left the traffic lights, I became more and more paranoid that I’d just inadvertently launched before the lights had turned green again as I’d look in my mirror and see that I was over 100m down the road and the other motorists were still static at the lights.

Forget first gear. Just….forget it. It doesn’t ever hang around long enough for you to notice it actually exists. But the speed and efficiency with which it engages second and continues a relentless, tireless, committed and stubborn urge, sucking up small children and causing tornados in its wake is utterly frightening. One cannot sympathise with the constant Baby Veyron comparisons, it really is a monster.

I have never driven a car so utterly effortless in its devastating capacity to lunch every other car on the road. It is a force of benign nature that offers relentless levels of competence and aptitude to such extents that one cannot help but feel a little complacent about its performance. It’s so easy to do.

I still begrudge Nissan for not making the car sound a little more menacing. Aurally, it’s up there with Dyson. But then that’s the car summed up. It’s the most functionally competent car I’ve ever driven. Its goal was to smash the ‘Ring title and make a car that strikes fear into the hearts of the establishment. And it has done this, repeatedly. It has literally done everything it set out to do.

And that ferocious urge doesn’t get tired, ever. Any gear, any revs, punch it. Motorway slip roads become moments of pure, red tinged frenzy with slight banks to roads causing periods of light speed comedy. But as your confidence develops, so do the accumulating speeds. It is an exercise in restraint, as any nonchalance surely will lead to some dramatic finale.

Ride around town and things are a little different. The damping, though not perfect, does a better job of absorbing the harshness of city commutes. It’s got good ground clearance too, avoiding any damage from speed bumps throughout London. This compounds a scary conclusion in that the faster you go, the better the car becomes, but the threshold of this car is so high, your buffer for mistakes equally become thinner.

Rear seats are token, too. Strangely enough, you can fit two small adults in there but not any children. The short base of the seats mean their feet don’t quite drop into the gap, but instead end up pushing up against the front seats.

I still am quite confused with the interior of the GTR. At first impression, it appears that it has been designed by at least half a dozen people, each person given a responsibility for each section. It doesn’t seem to work in any form of unity, lacking the cohesion necessary to make an occasion for the driver. But spend a few hours here and all of a sudden it makes sense. Bar the electric windows, everything is within the reach of the driver. It’s quite a usable cockpit. And the sat nav is amongst the best I’ve ever used.

A combination of dozens of different screens, the unit shifts intelligently from one display to another, switching clever instructions as it sees fit. Combined with the 3D landmarks, it’s a fast, effective system which was a joy to use. iPhone integration was amazing also. With my unit plugged in, I had my phone paired through bluetooth and my playlists up on the touchscreen unit within seconds. A classy well done to Nissan for that, thoroughly good job.

Sunday morning, 7am and I’m driving up to meet friends in supercars. I’m in a great environment, the R35, and strictly speaking I don’t know if I’d rather be in anything else right now. It’s comfortable, surreally quick and has all the mod cons you’d want.

This time of morning allows for swift progress and liberties to be taken. Mostly, shifting down is unnecessary as the car will swallow tarmac, regardless of gear, in full automatic. Arriving shortly after at our meeting point, the fast moving convoy is in progress after picking up more cars along the way.

By the time we arrive at our first petrol station, we’ve got 4 Lamborghini’s, a 458 Italia, a Zonda F, a Mercedes AMG CLK63 Black and a Porsche GT3RS. Despite the obvious performance adequacy (the GTR is more than a match for all these cars in real terms), I am completely invisible. Especially when we get to our final destination where we’ve picked up another Zonda, an F50, a Murcielago SV, Carerra GT and a host of other supercars.

Whilst paying for petrol, I overhear a few people at the queue talking about the collection of colour out on the forecourt. Every single car is mentioned apart from the GTR – and I won’t lie, this was a little damaging to my ego. Why wasn’t I being noticed? Didn’t they hear about the 523BHP engine? The 7.22 Ring lap? I knew exactly how to show them. When I start my engine, they’ll see.

As the whole forecourt erupted into life with various forms of Italian exotica celebrating the progression of the modern combustion engine, I sat there and started my engine, slightly embarrassed with the relatively silent contribution my gigantic exhausts were making. I’ll just do my windows up then…

Back on the road, and the visual payback is repeated. Every car gets photographed, pointed at, commented on – except mine. Again, I’m a silent witness to an orgy of car exotica and despite me being able to play with the best of them, I felt like the last guy picked for the football team.

The lack of aural and visual impact is indeed a problem in such esteemed company. A supercar is all about the drama. It’s about the excesses and necessities (or lack of thereof) of over-the-top extravagance. It’s why Lambo’s start engines with at least 2000 too many rpm’s. And why when you downshift a Ferrari you get a strangely gratuitous throttle blip.

Things that can’t be measured and can’t be reasoned with any form of logic. But therein lies the appeal of the GTR. It is unfazed by the spectacle of supercar characteristic. It attempts to do what it does best in the most efficient, unassuming way possible. It doesn’t feel the need to bark before it bites, instead opting to deliver its key message in a calm, controlled, almost mature manner.

Its performance is massive. Its offering is delightfully rich. And there is its character laid bare. It’s a loyal dog, always there for you when you need him, never questioning your motives and continues to provide you with the best relationship you could ever have.

As the sun dipped over Rickmansworth on a fantastic Sunday afternoon, everything suddenly fell into place for me and I suddenly understood the Nissan GTR.

I think if Nissan spent less time trying to force the GTR to become a supercar, it may eventually find itself placed in a unique pigeon hole without peer. It’s not a supercar, but it is a supercar slayer. With a boot.

Thanks to Terry Steeden at Nissan GB for the loan of the car. You’re lucky you have the car back. Nissan security were willing to take a bribe.

I should know better as it’s scarcely been a couple of months since I left an iPad and a camera in my holdall on a train and subsequently lost it to the charitable endeavours of mankind. How gently do I revere fellow man….

However, I did learn one lesson from that ill fated first moment of insanity and that was to purchase a MobileMe license and to install Find-My-iPhone on all my iDevices. So it was with this anticipated knowledge that I rushed back to my office and opened up my browser to locate the iPhone.

It essentially works from three different options. The SIMM card, the phones GPS antenna and wifi. So even if they take the SIMM card out, I should still be able to track it. But the phone needs to be switched on in order to send the signal.

The first thing I did was a remote device lock. Although my phone locks automatically after a few seconds with a password screen, I wanted to remain prudent. Next step was to send it an immediate screen message offering £200 reward together with an audible signal. All these options are available through the MobileMe application, together with a last minute option, the remote wipe. This zaps all data from the device and renders it blank, saving any potential data compromise.

From 11am until 5pm I must have refreshed the Google Maps based application 200 times. Nothing. No signal, no response nada. It was excruciatingly frustrating and given how I’d already lost all my hope in humanity, I was fast building up a Falling Down moment.

By 6pm, I’d given up. Initially, I’d considered the reason the phone had no location signal was because it was still on the underground, so lost property were notified. But before long I knew it was a fruitless ambition.

I find solace in these stressful events by way of retail therapy, so off to Selfridges in Oxford Street. It was a £700 replacement, which is ridiculous given that Apple choose to penalise you for losing or having your phone stolen. With no insurance, the replacement was going to be expensive.

It was about 7pm as we left Selfridges when down the escalators towards the tube, I was asked about my data and if I’d lost it all. As a demonstration, I opened my iPad to show that all my data was synched through cloud technology. And then it happened….PING..iPhone 4 located 3 minutes ago!

The map hadn’t drawn yet as we were underground. So a fast sprint upstairs back to ground level and we settled in Pret to check the map again. By pure chance, the location was about a mile away from me, at a shop in Tottenham Court Road. The application is very accurate and is detailed enough to show you exactly where the phone is to within a couple of metres.
I jumped in a cab and started a journey that would take 3 minutes without traffic but 25 with. Just then, the iPhone lost it’s signal, prompting fears that the one person to find my phone knows to take it to TCR where there are a plethora of shops that unlock and unblock iPhones. I had to rush there as it was merely a matter of time before it would be lost forever.

As we turned up to the shop, we realised there were two of these poxy shops side by side, so we started the ‘pincer move’. It was quite clear that one of the shops was lying and the other was quite sympathetic. It was time to step up the aggression.

I made it obvious that unless my phone appeared in my hand within the next few minutes I would put on a show for them. I was so angry at this point I threatened to trash the shop, and I would have done. I also stated that I would then wait for the police and explain to them that I had trashed this joint as they handled stolen phones and I had evidence to prove it.

This seemed the right tactic as within minutes I had the phone in my hand. I can only assume that they bought the phone off whoever found my iPhone, I’d suspect for a couple of hundred pounds, with intent to resell. It’s obvious that this happens quite a lot and MobileMe is going to make it very difficult for these cowboys to continue in this practice.

I celebrated with a massive McDonalds. Justice was served and I had my phone back in my grasp. Having a MobileMe account does have various uses, not least for knowing the exact whereabouts of your devices, a service of which could be abused if used for the wrong reasons. But it does require a level of confidence to do something when chasing a stolen / lost phone. I was happy to face a confrontation but some people may prefer more peaceful methods, many of which would not bear any fruit to your endeavours.

Celebrations!

Due to mitigating circumstances (this sounds like an excuse for late homework) I found myself in a position to sell the LP560 with minimal impact. A temporary change of address has left me without a garage and an LP is not the kind of car to leave out in the street in central London so it had to go. Sad face.

It was the most ludicrous affair ever. I actually took the car back to Lamborghini London three times and each time I ended up getting back in the car and driving back home, I simply couldn’t bring myself to part with it. I was in a state of turmoil, that’s how much I loved the car.

The first time I returned the car, I sat at the dealership with my documents in hand and did not part from the reception counter for 45 minutes. I was ushered out by the salesman, obviously empathic to my inner turmoil. Each time I returned home, the mrs curiously bewildered to see me sat in an LP again when I should be returning by taxi.

You see, the LP is simply not a car. It’s a lifestyle. There is a TV commercial for the LP560 which accurately reflects everything concerning Gallardo ownership:

Example 1. I once parked up in Piccadilly Circus, central London, in the interests of research, of course. During that time, I was approached by a least a dozen people of various sexes, ages and enquiries! It is a fast ticket to either big joys (if you’re single) or big trouble (if you’re hooked up!). I’ve had an unholy interest in people just wanting to know you, most of which actually think that they already do. People put their heads in your window, wanting to take photos, some convinced they’ve papped a celebrity.

Example 2. Any exclusive club, restaurant or hotel is immediately an open door for you. I rarely made reservations anymore, opting instead to simply turn up and park the car bang in front of the door, double yellow lines or not, the valets going out of their ways to ensure your experience is special. Zuma, Nobu, Dorchester, Bungalow 8 – simply turn up, walk out of the car, straight in. There is simply no better ego massage. I was once stuck in a traffic jam outside an exclusive night club. I was just driving past but the doormen walked up to the car, opened my door and said in an unassuming tone ‘Welcome sir’. Despite their embarrassment, the sentiment was welcome.

I could go on, but you get the drift. Do not let me misrepresent the car, however. Despite its shallow provisions, it is a remarkably competent car. I would not have it any other way. It has a deliciously rewarding attitude to driving. Ignoring its weight disadvantage and four wheel drive deficiencies, it’s quick to react, deftly balanced and stupendously fast. A very different attitude to the GT3′s I’m used to, this car does not tip toe, nor does it grace itself with balletic delicacy. It is unfazed by a surefooted attitude, inspiring confidence in its will to simply take a corner with little effort, providing instead a stage for expert dramatics by way of a soundtrack crafted by John Williams and a vision of unmistakable beauty.

Whilst the prima-donna of the car world flirts from one spectator to another, you are left to reward yourself with one of the most exciting gearboxes I’ve used. What initially comes across as an agriculturally inept proposition soon rewards your patience and experimentation with sweet and punchy shifts characterfully suited to the LP. Initially, there’s no glamour nor subtleness to gearshifts, punishing amateur naive driver operated gear shifts with aggressive lurches accompanied by thumps and bangs from the drivetrain. Although the fastest method of changing gear, it makes any hot number in your passenger seat suddenly quite undignified – we can’t have that gentleman, can we?

Choose to understand the ‘box, lift off just before you accelerate again as you upshift and all the success in smoothness feels very much your own doing, quite an achievement for a paddleshift system. And once you’ve tasted that downshift, there’s absolutely no room left for a manual gearbox to shine. It’s loud, brash, uncouth and totally unnecessary, yet I simply couldn’t stop myself from taking advantage of that outrageous throttle blip on every downshift, it’s a gloriously addictive way of letting people know you’ve arrived, if that haven’t seen you yet that is!

It’s not all perfect though. The seating position, although fine in itself, is partnered to the most absurdly offset pedals I’ve ever seen. The brake pedal is where the clutch usually is and as a result, the throttle is where the brake pedal usually is. It takes some good getting used to and is cause for some embarrassing cases of miscommunication between car and driver.

Also, the entertainment system, although fully kitted, has some strange compromises. For example, if you are using the Sat-Nav, you can’t play a CD and vice versa. And don’t talk to me about fuel consumption either (8MPG).

But then if this isn’t truly representative of Italian idiosyncratic engineering, I don’t know what is. It’s a glorious statement of beauty without compromise, engineering without budget and drama without shame.

Since having sold the car, I’ve spent almost every day scanning the classifieds. I even window licked the Lamborghini showroom this weekend just gone, together with the tourists and general public, oblivious to my qualified Lambo exploits. God I’ve become so arrogant…

I simply cannot wait to get into one again. Thank you Ferruccio.

One of the fastest circuits in Europe, Spa gives plenty of opportunity for the LP to properly stretch its legs without fear of social or legal persecution.

Having owned the car for a scarce number of weeks, I’ve already read reports and heard through the grapevine gossip about my car having been heard in all manner of places across London! The right pedal pulls in attention from both appreciating and condemning individuals in equal measure.

After first figuring out how to get to Europe and back again without a passport (another story for another day!), the pleasures and joys of anticipation start to filter through. I have not experienced any better viewpoint from that of the LP. Despite the shared Audi switchgear, it really is a pleasant environment, combining classy chrome components with cross stitched, quilted leather upholstery and dashboard. Coupled with the dynamic, agressive Lamborghini typography everywhere, the intent is not discreet and the business of arriving to your destination in both speed and style is encouraged.

The journey to Spa is not as enjoyable as you would imagine. It’s a combination of French Autoroutes and Belgian ring roads which, during rush hour traffic, is a chore as British number plates are always a fresh target to local police. We were chaperoned in Belgium by a police car for approximately 45 minutes at one point. It makes progress monotonous and frustrating. At the helm of a Lamborghini, however, it could be worse…

On the road, the LP560 monsters progress (away from police escort). Any enthusiastic action is an exercise in restraint. Not only is the 550BHP bewildering, but so is also the noise it makes. Every time you overtake somebody, you are constantly wondering if you have just given the driver of the receding car a triple cardiac arrest. It’s also a car of liberties. Queues matter no more on motorways and junctions are just a simple exercise in arrogance, just putting your nose out allows you to take advantage of everyones caution, making for motorbike-like filtering through busy traffic. I know, I know, it’s so wrong.

Get the right Autobahn though, as we did on entrance to Germany, hit a de-restricted part and nail it. I’m not sure, but I think I saw over 210MPH on the speedo. It’s not the top speed, but the phenomenal rate of acceleration getting there. That 5.2ltr engine is a monster. I suspect that if I were to have more space, that car would continue to accelerate to at least 400MPH.

I had made no preparations for the car and I was slightly nervous that the car was simply not ready for track use. Normally, I would have set the geo and suspension accordingly and ensured at least that the brake fluids were uprated with sufficiently capable brake pads. I had good faith in my tyres though as they were the excellent Pirelli Corsa Systems. Not the magical ‘R’s as we have used consistently on the GT3’s, but good enough all the same. Although most of my fears are unfounded as the car is surprisingly competent off the shelf. More so than my Gen 2 GT3 ever was.

The morning was covered in fog around Spa, which lifted my spirits somewhat as I was looking forward to a damp track to evaluate the off limit handling characteristics of the LP, but the tyres made that very difficult, providing excellent grip on the circuit with expected traction from the 4WD. Nothing other than vulgar, aggressive provocation could put the LP out of line. Aside from some gentle understeer, turn in was accurate and predictable. You can enjoy some serious advantages on the straights with that savage speed and power allowing you to reel in the cars that have an edge over you on the twists.

I’m not going to lie, for pure track use, it’s outclassed by the GT3, even if it could get faster lap times. It lacks that on-limit finesse that defines the Porsches from their Italian counterparts. It is heavy, absurdly thirsty (I was getting 8 MPG) and very very expensive to run on track. It IS a Lamborghini after all.

Very few cars outperformed the Lambo on track. Only a super quick trick Corvette and a few of the champ racers in GT3′s, otherwise it was devastating. But no other car sounded or looked as good, if I may say so :)

However, I did not buy this car as a dedicated track car. For the first time in a long time, I had just as spectacular time out of the track as I did on it. The eGear makes for a great companion after a tiring track day, even if the auto-mode is a little too agricultural. But find that road, no matter how short, that allows you to take advantage of a few manual downshifts and thumps of the accelerator and it all makes perfect sense. As we left Spa to drive to Nurburgring, we set the Sat Nav to ‘avoid motorways’ and ‘shortest route’. This takes you across some of the finest roads Europe has to offer as seen from some of the pictures below. Even if it cost me a new windscreen (£3200) and a new front respray (£1800) that your friend (Glenn) refused to pay for because he has a disorder which protects him from being anything other than in front of the convoy. Now the Lambo is simply unbeatable as it offers power, noise and looks – at absolutely no compromise.

There’s a distinct attitude present in the Lambos every action which acutely represents its multi-layered characteristics in stark fashion. From the very moment you unlock the doors, there’s an angry hiss as the fuel pumps go to work to prep what is possibly the LOUDEST ignition and engine start noise ever (video below). It’s absurd that a car like this can pass noise regulations without a £50 note shoved into an envelope.

Lamborghini London made the sale pretty much irresistible for me really. After a test drive in the black LP560 (no more than 50MPH in built up areas), I had pretty much made the decision to buy it. I’d actually gone to see an R8 V10 they had in stock, but what a ridiculous notion to assume that I’d walk into a Lamborghini dealership and drive out with an Audi….

Trepidation meets anticipation as you gently pull the e-gear to first, not quite sure what to expect for the first time and as you prod the throttle through its obscenely offset pedals, the car lurches forward as you’d expect an angry bull to do so just before a charge. And unless you’ve mastered the e-gear shifting, then expect an impolite reprimand from the Lambo as it angrily shifts into the next gear, unceremoniously jerking your passengers head. Take your time to learn the system, however, and you can learn to lift off before each gear change, allowing for far smoother upshifts. Prepare, also, for the savage acceleration which can, if not controlled, can spin all four wheels into the direction of the nearest solid object.

So initial thoughts? It’s a simply stunning road car. I mean, just look at it! I strongly believe that we have a future design classic. The lines are so pure and compact, the car is a moving eye magnet. I have never seen a car attract so much attention. I thought the Green RS was a show stopper, well the LP is in a different league. Passengers get taxis to follow you, pedestrians change their mind when crossing the road, opting instead to sit by the traffic light to hear the car go. Dogs jump out of their skins on downshifts and have to figure out what the fuck can be so big to chant a 110db bark.

Dynamically, compared to a GT3, it’s a heavy weapon. The RS, a surgeons scalpel, is a precision tool designed to sow one bend to the other with effortless consistency. The LP, on the other hand, is a carpet bomb of destruction. It’s so devastatingly fast and ruthless, a mash of the loud pedal takes gigantic lunges out of the road. WIth a comedy 8500 RPM redline (I mean for the love of Christ, have you heard a 5.2 V10 do 8,500RPM? It’s unholy!), the temptation to constantly wring the neck of the LP is frankly way too tempting. Especially given the approving gestures of joe public! And then there’s the downshifts, each pull of the left paddle accompanied by a satanic bark matching revs, it terrifies and delights the public in equal measure. I’ll never forget the sight of the dog turning on its owner after a particularly close downshift in Bond Street!

So far, I’m utterly enamoured by the car. It’s stunning to look at, it sounds incredible and has one of the greatest engines ever. Accompany this with a true, italian style leather interior (somebody was quoted as saying “It smells of Gaucho Grill in here!”), and interior ergonomics which tick all checkboxes (despite Audi switchgear!), and we have a multi-dimensional offering that acts as a benchmark for all super cars.

Been a while since I had second thoughts on selling a car. Looking around on forums, it’s quite clear that this green car had touched more than a few chords. It went in today for an inspection at JZM and it passed with flying colours which perversely, made me more upset. Knowing the car was immaculate and, I quote, “The cleanest RS I’ve ever seen”, made me want to just keep it forever.

I had cherished and worshipped the car with much wax and tears. In the 5000 miles I did over the past 6 months, it made me smile at every mile.

It was also the most dramatic 911 I’ve owned as it garnered enough attention from the public to make it a minor celebrity. I will be back in a 911 GT3 before long, they are too good to be away from for too long.

So, no more spine tingling at 7500 RPM. No more expertly crafted, precision engineered cornering characteristics. No more drifting on bends at 45 degree angles, carefully balanced by throttle and steering input so delicate and flexible that each 500rpm on the rev range provides another +/- degree of attack. No more raucous sport button induced reverb off low, brick walls as you pass them. And finally, no more staring at perhaps the finest green ever placed on a car after applying a thick layer of expensive wax.

Right, enough tears, what’s next?

Sport chrono
Centre console painted body colour
Harnesses
Alcon JZM discs
RS29 pads
Uprated brake fluids

The car has had no expense spared in my care and is set up already by Fearnsport for geometry. It was also inspected by them prior to my purchase and Matt said it was almost showroom condition.

What’s wrong with it? Not much really. It needs a touch up where there are a couple of small stone chips on the bonnet and it also needs a new set of tyres (still on original set). I would replace them myself, but a new prospective owner may have a preference. Other than that, it wants for nothing.

I’ve just had a stamp from Porsche East London for its recent service and I’ve also just taken out the all important Porsche International Warranty together with the roadside assist module. My recent bill there was almost £3,000.

I’ve also just purchased a new front splitter so the car looks fantastic.

Looking for £77k.

I hope Nathan doesn’t mind me using his images.

It’s that situation that plagues me now, where only a couple of days ago, in fact only a few hours ago, the mere thought of a new car was but a distant impossibility. Now, having evaluated my boredom, I’ve come to the conclusion that I need at least another two cars. Let me explain….

Anybody who reads these inane ramblings will no doubt understand that nothing is ever rational, nor is it borne from a school of logical thought. Our ideas are as fleeting as the British weather so they carry neither rhyme nor reason.

However, it is quite clear that I need some form of every day transport. No, I do not drive to work, but that is, of course, irrelevant. I simply need to have transport that would carry me with comfort, style and not without some power. I was at a petrol station last week late into the night at the motorway services. Anybody who’s familiar will know that these can be ghostly arenas late at night devoid of traffic both in mechanical and human variety. As I pulled up to the pumps, there was a car in front of me that had overtaken me a short while ago on the M1. As I got out, the driver was getting into his car having filled up and paid his duties and made to pull off.

The sound of his engine starting was a cerebral shock. How could such a once respectable, mass manufacturer of quality executive class cars be so irresponsible in their creation of something so unholy. Not only did my trousers vibrate in its wake, but I also did not notice that I had embraced a fierce smile that would have placed my sanity to the duty attendant into question.

The car, of course, was an AMG C63. 6.2ltrs of V8 goodness. SIX POINT TWO LITRES. How did that thing get through planning stages at Mercedes? Was it an April Fools joke, played upon the board of directors that someone was forgotten about as it got passed onto product development??

Regardless. That night, I was on Pistonheads classifieds pouring over these immense, German hot-rods. I’ve given up trying to justify it to the wife and have already considered contract hire rates versus 2nd hand options. Having chatted to a few ex-owners, it’s quite clear that they leave a positive lasting impression where they often regret the sale. One friend said his C63 was so awesome, he actually got run over by his own car as someone attempted (successfully) to car jack him during a faux sale process.

Am I certifiable?

I’ve decided to sell the RS and it’s time for something that isn’t 911 shaped. I’m on my 5th GT3 and I’m getting bored of hearing myself wax lyrical about them. It really isn’t very becoming of me to continually bleet about a car so obviously brilliant. It’s sickening, really it is. It’s also utterly mental that I want to sell something that is so obviously brilliant too. It’s superb to look at, utterly intoxicating to drive, aurally stimulating and people love to watch, listen and ride in it. So why on earth am I thinking of selling it? Because, my non-existent, imaginary, binary friends, the grass is always greener.

What were my choices then? In no order of preference:

Ferrari 599
Ok, let’s just get this one out of the way. I like my V12 Ferraris, except I can never seem to afford them until they are at the end of their cycle run. Sub £100k is where I’m at, so Mr. Fiorano, another day perhaps.

Audi R8
Now that prices are down to sensible levels, there’s a lot to like about Audi’s offering. There’s also a sprinkling of choice, from V8 to V10 to the Spyder. Each model has its merits and they all make for a compelling argument. There’s real world practicality to consider, then there’s the every day accessible supercar performance coupled with a fantastic soundtrack. Aesthetically, it’s a bit of a disappointment in certain companies.

Porsche (insert a billion acronyms here)
The whole reason I have itchy feet is because I want to try something different. So that rules out a GT2, which I’ve been eyeing up for a while. I haven’t been as excited about a car in a long time as I have about the GT2RS. By all accounts it’s a monster and one of the fastest production cars ever. Georg Kacher, awesome Car journalist, recounts:
“I’m not sure that there exist enough Walter Rohrls to fully realise the true portential of the ultimate rear-wheel drive 911. Porsche can guarantee that the GT2RS has every piece of technology to humble any Ferrari, Lamborghini and Bugatti. Except, perhaps, an adequately talented driver.”
Colour me shallow, but that’s just a red rag to me. I fancy myself.
As for the GT3RS, I’m still a bit pissed with Porsche’s attitude to the whole sales process. I sent another email to Porsche GB asking them why, when I had been denied a car, were there well over a dozen cars currently for sale at speculators. I got no reply. Still, I shouldn’t cut my nose off to spite my face and it takes a fool to deny the GT3RS the merit it deserves – it truly is a spectacular car, I will have one next year I suspect when the prices settle down. At the moment, it’s not £40k better than my current car.

Which leaves me with only one other option. A phone call was made earlier today. :)

In honour of this tradition, the 997 Turbo Convertible and I did check each other out in the reflection a couple of weeks back, when the weather was glorious, that one weekend where we had 32 deg sunshine all day. Yeah fine, shoot me, but it was a perfect day for many reasons and glancing at that oversized Gap shop window, I couldn’t help but feel I was blessed with the luck of the gods for that afternoon. And I felt that the bond was complete.

There I was, sat in that car, good looking woman sat in my side, the shopping bags of excess in the back seats, hood down and the world at my feet. Suddenly, I understood the joys of owning this car. Granted, that kind of day comes once a year, if that, and you need to weigh up the incredible sense of wellbeing generated on that one summers day, versus the remaining 364 days of depressing rain in the UK. It has, after all, been a cloudy summer ever since that day and I’ve not seen a clear sky since.

Of course, that’s a harsh assessment, but it does imply some truths. Life’s all about balance and that sliding scale is adjusted according to the kind of person you are. For me, that one particular day, cruising around in central London, posing in a car pretending to be 2011 summer-wear catwalk model, judging by the sheer number of photographs taken of the car, was so obscenely awesome that the compromise was almost worth having to drive the car with the hood up for the rest of the year.

And it is a car about excesses and perfectly suited to the life of someone who spends a lot of time in central london. The black wheels really set off the car and it gains both admiration and derision in equal measure, probably for the same reason. It demonstrates a type of lifestyle which even I succumbed to, even if it was out of my own reach in reality.

The lazy tiptronic gearbox works terribly when in pursuit of raw thrills, but for cruising around town, soaking up the sun, it was merely sufficient as it gently shifts from one long ratio to the next, allowing you instead to bask in your own glory.

Make no mistake though. Even though the tiptronic makes brisk progress difficult (the gears were way too long for a turbo charged car with such a specific power band), once you did get those turbos spooling, it really was a very quick car and I suspect there’s no more effective a way of giving yourself a scalp massage. I remembered later on when I drove my RS again I was almost slightly underwhelmed by it’s power delivery. Almost.

Frankly, the only reasons for disliking this car can be very quickly made better by adjusting the options list. Dump that awful gearbox in favour of PDK, get a better, thick rimmed steering wheel and maybe even add the letter ‘S’ to the boot.

I was actually quite upset to see it go, even if i was comforted by the approach of imminent rain. Since then the weather hasn’t been anything like it was for that week I had the car and that’s consolation in itself, as I’d have been truly depressed if it was.

Would I swap my RS for one? I’d almost certainly consider it. Given how few track days I’ve done this year, the RS is almost wasted on the driveway. Lately I’ve been needing to drive to work in the City a lot and in the RS that’s been an exercise in self control and tolerance. Only today I attracted the unwanted attention of City police again, driving erratically, swapping lanes often and doing, wait for it, FORTY miles per hour. I’m just a giant animated bill board on wheels selling crack cocaine to small children. The Turbo in contrast was a joy with it’s compliant suspension, four seats, auto box, sat nav and Bose sound system. I will stress though, this car needs a companion in the passenger seat, perhaps even in the drivers seat. Just make sure he/she is good looking!

It’s a fabulous car and if you can afford such a luxury as a second toy, nothing really ticks as many boxes. It massages your ego, tickles the senses and fools you into a false sense of delusional grandeur. I know, I’ve changed my tune somewhat. But I guess that’s what a few days of awesome weather does. It puts this car totally into perspective. It’s not a pure drivers car in the manner I’ve come to judge. A quick drive in the RS yesterday up and down the road had me reversing back into my garage with my heart beating and my legs shaking – no joke. But the Turbo offers itself as a driving pleasure that can only be truly savoured at the right time and the right place. Reach that zenith and you’ll have your awakening.

Excuse me whilst I engage in the pastime enjoyed by all car enthusiasts the world over, I’m just going to pour over the classifieds.

Have always been curious on the merits of the 911 Turbo. Having driven a GT2 a few years back, I remember the ferocious power delivery of that scarcely manacled beast. However, time has moved on since then and our perceptions and benchmarks have shifted somewhat.

Glenn has just taken delivery of a Gen 2 Turbo S Convertible. In an almost unbelievably coincidental display of fate, my courtesy car has ended up looking identical to Glenn’s Gen 2 in all but detail. His car is positively savage and it’s one of the few 911′s you can hear before you can see it, with the most unholy induction noise you’ve ever heard. Coupled with a PDK gearbox, his car should be criminalised. To think that you cannot buy alcohol in an unlicensed place, but you are able to walk into a showroom and buy this missile is surely a parody sketch on the state of modern day society?

Regardless, “Speed is relative” I remind myself as I set into my ‘standard’ Turbo. It’s a Gen 1, which means it’s a 3.6, rather than a Gen 2 3.8. It’s also not an S, which gives leaves it with 40BHP less at 480BHP. It’s still a powerhouse of an engine with each overtake acting out as giant lunges through traffic, chomping huge chunks of road and cars, sucking up every object into its airbox, tied down or not. It becomes comedic and you have to shift your sense of what’s possible when you overtake cars as everything is SOOO easy.

Select gear, nail throttle, wait for the lag, count to one, two…whhooOOOOSHH and you’ve got warping stars, Millenium Falcon style. With the hood down, tears start to stream as you realise you way past triple figures and you’re desperately trying to readjust your sunglasses that seem to have made their way around to the back of your head. As you haul hard on the brakes (because you really had no idea just how fast you were approaching that car!), you repeat the process again. Over and over and over.

The brakes work fantastic, if a little out of sorts with the chassis. I’m not certain if this was isolated to this particular car, of if I’ve been warped by the rigidity and hardness of a GT3, but the 911 Turbo can’t seem to escape a somewhat lofty personality under hard braking, with the nose dramatically pointing downwards under heavy braking. Also under hard throttle, the car does the opposite with your headlights pointing to the birds in the sky.

But the one thing that kills the car is also the one thing that I cannot forgive nor ignore; the gearbox. I’ve never driven a tiptronic before, why anybody would spec such a magnificent car with such a travesty in technology is an enigma. If you see any Porsche’s with tiptronic gearboxes, I’m telling you right now, the owners can’t drive for toffee. It’s simply a glorified automatic.

Shifting it to manual mode, you are granted with two steering wheel buttons. Up and down. When it carries out those actions, however, is really down to how the gearbox is feeling at the time. Shifts actioned by the button rarely get carried out exactly when you want them, especially if coupled by an urgen, nailed throttle. This delay in shifting gears often has you bumping on the rev limiter, forcing you to recalibrate as you end up having to shift 2 seconds before you really need to. Electric, eh?

We live in a colourful world filled with subjectivity. That’s why I can comfortably say I could never buy a Turbo. It has none of the electricity of my GT3 that allows me to enjoy and cherish each hurried gear shift and subsequent pinning of the throttle, giving out that scream, filling my ears with ecstasy and meaning. The Turbo also doesn’t have the immediacy that you come to expect from a N/A car. Accelerating in the Turbo almost requires forethought and planning as you end up acting out all movements 2-3 seconds before you need to, just to get around the turbo lag. That is huge fun at times, but rather dangerous at others, as you occasionally try to take advantage of small, immediate gaps in traffic.

And I tell you what, nobody let’s you out of traffic in a white turbo cab! Big drive this weekend, I hope the weather’s good so I can respond with an informed decision.

Four days at the Nurburgring, two of which would be on bikes, two days at Spa, an incredible cross country drive demonstrating some of the most verdant, beautiful coniferous green lands between Germany and Belgium and a solid helping of 30 deg heat throughout is surely a recipe for any petrol head.

Include the tools of surgery, them being two green GT3 RS’s and two Nissan GTR’s, and we’re either going to get into a massive fight or gain divine insight into the makings of automotive heaven.

The bravado had started months before, of course. Depending on which car you owned, the GTR was either an extraordinarily advanced automotive equivalent of HAL, leaving very little for the driver to do, or a revolutionary step in motoring, raising the bars of expectation. Similarly, the GT3 was either a prehistoric remnant of a romantic ideal no longer suitable for today’s audience, or it was a precision, scalpel like device that rewarded it’s drivers as much as it demanded from them. Either way, hearts would be broken, egos bruised and lap times championed.

It still surprises me just how much attention the green RS gets both on the road and in the paddocks. Put two of these cars together and the effect is amplified further. On motorways, other enthusiasts jostle, sometimes dangerously, as they undertake, overtake and pull over, with cameras in hand, just to be part of the convoy. The two GTR’s equally attractive, doing their bit for the decepticons, resplendent in their high tech paint work echoing shadows of Transformers-like aggression.

The three evening sessions Thursday to Saturday at the Nurburgring are to be the most sane of the whole week. As the weather showed signs of glory, every car club in northern Europe descended upon the place creating both a Mecca for car fans, but also frustration for those wanting to do some laps. Most people choose to use the ring carpark for posing, with many others having to queue for up to an hour just to get into the car park. Saturday we couldn’t even get on to the track as some banzai driver binned his car on his first out lap, causing the circuit to close for the whole day.

That’s the risk out there. I must have counted at least 15 trashed cars in 4 days and countless ambulances ferrying drivers to the nearest hospital. Its both a problem and, perversely, part of the attraction as adrenaline addicts flock to do the (£15!!) laps, oblivious to the threat of death. With tyres squealing at 165MPH, there simply is no time to contemplate mortality.

Sunday, being the only true all-day tourist day, open from 8am until 7pm, was a true comedy day. To think that our actions were completely legal must have been a sick joke upon the Germans. As a group of four, we bullied our way across the ring as we raced, raved and raped the german track and its inhabitants. Back into the ring car park, I removed my sweat drenched helmet and felt with guilty pleasure the buzz of having enjoyed yet another eight minutes of knife edge recreation unavailable anywhere else in the world.

So which car is the ring daddy? No doubt about it, the GTR is simply unbeatable. It quite literally has been built with a single purpose in mind, to dominate the ring and it does with aplomb. The GT3′s are out powered, out handled and out techno’d by a car fit for the 21st century. Not only does it have enough power to rotate the ring around the car itself, but its clever 4WD system makes the deploying of that power so damn efficient, it does not waste a single BHP in transition. The ring has many uphill sections which makes mince meat out of the normally aspirated GT3′s, without the torque, they just cannot compete.

Still, there’s no doubt that the Nissans are one track wonders. With soaring transmission and engine oil temps, the cars are unable to do more than one lap effectively. Add to that a 4 lap fuel tank, melting tyres and overheating brakes and the allure starts to diminish.

If lap times are your ultimate goal, then the GTR is unbeatable, but there are huge compromises as mentioned. The RS’s in contrast are bulletproof in comparison. Respectively, the Porsches are back-to-basics cars with little technology aside from chassis and handling expertise.

Incidentally, we did two laps of the ring on our mountain bikes. If you have a cycling interest then you MUST attempt this opportunity. We did the bike ride during an endurance race at the ring. It really was a spectacular, challenging and unique ride that had you following the 24km circuit around the outside.

Spa was a totally different story and all were amazed at the stark differences in car performance between the Nissans and the Porsches. To put it bluntly, the GT3′s were right at home as the cars were surgically woven from one bend to another in the fast, rapid switchbacks offered at Spa. The 1800kg weight on the GTRs could offer no comfort to any amount of technology as the GT3′s danced from one section to the next, deftly balancing braking, power and chassis dynamics.

Finished off a wonderful day at Spa by destroying a set of rears with some synchronised drifting with Richard Meaden. He was at Spa with a Porsche GB Gen 2 GT3 press car, Dickie can peddle and made for many awesome laps. When my fuel trip computer showed “– miles” in range, I then stayed out for another 5 laps, thats how much I was enjoying myself at risk of coasting the starved engine to a standstill. Got some nice drift footage which I’ll put up as soon as I get the DVD.
Edit: here it is

But the most memorable snapshot I brought back with me is an insanely beautiful drive across Europe as we took a scenic route between Germany and Belgium. Suddenly, lap times don’t matter and all we’re interested in is the noise of each others’ downshifts and throttle blips, no matter the car of choice. As we briskly accelerate between narrow tree lined roads, the sound of our exhausts reverb off the low walls bouncing back into our open windows hand in hand with the glorious sunshine of middle Europe.

It really is a defining experience of what makes the perfect motoring moment. The unnecessary heel and toeing, the intentional aggressive throttle between 3k-4k rpm, forcing the butterfly valves on the exhaust silencers to open and close at will and the physical leaning into each and every bend making the travel across this time locked land a magical experience as we chased the sun into the west.

I am naturally biased but with £100k in the bank, would I choose a GT3 again, or buy a GTR and put £40k away? Let me just say I have no regrets.

Edit: First video posted. Host car is Glenn’s, chasing mine.

Saturday morning and I’m browsing Google looking for any firm that provided convertible hire. Finding firms that catered for this wasn’t hard, but finding stock was impossible. The good weather has lasted all week so people were way on the ball and way before me.

Prestige Car Hire in Hemel Hempstead came up with the goods though, providing me with a choice of either a Z4 or a 330ci, with the Z4 coming at a killer price making the choice an easy one. Besides, I’ve always found the new shape really handsome and this pretty much hit the spot for the weekend.

After a super quick transaction, I was out on the M1, hard top electric roof down (rather slow mechanism, but effective transformation!) having my scalp massaged at speed. It’s a liberating experience that is savoured by those of us unfamiliar with convertible ownership. In the three days I had the car, the roof only went up when the car was parked. I never even got to sample the car in its coupe form.

I love the design of this car, I rank it one of the best looking roadsters on the market. It’s a quality car that demonstrates BMW build standards that hark back to the 80′s. Ruler guided shutlines with roof open or closed, switch gear that feels punctual and components that want using. As an ownership prospect, it ticks all the right boxes and looks fabulous parked up on the drive with the roof in either position. Not sure black is a good colour though, the remnants of Bangles flame surfacing need a brighter colour to exhibit its lines. Personally, I’d be brave and go for a white Z4. And those wheels are amazing, filling the arches gracefully giving the effect of a very modern roadster, together with its short overhangs.

Boot space is generous when the hood is up, but once in convertible mode, the roof sits on top of any luggage as the photo suggests, making access to your gear very difficult. In order to properly get your stuff back out, you need to put the hood up again, which wouldn’t be so bad if the roof didn’t take so long to go up and down.

Otherwise the interior is very comfortable with shapely leather seats and a nice, chunky steering wheel completing the GT feel. Unfortunately my car wasn’t equipped with sat-nav which was a pain, but the sound system provided great entertainment with the punchy speakers complimented by the AUX cable in. Although the bloody sound compensation thing was irritable to say the least as the volume kept self-modulating, making for inconsistent volume.

Driving this car is a mixed affair and I get the impression it’s trying to maintain a split personality but failing at both, it’s neither a proper GT, nor is it a sports car with dynamics to match. It’s a 6 speed manual and the gearbox itself is a slick affair, with each shift smooth and easy and heel and toeing working best from the ball of your foot. However, there’s no reward to your hard work and despite the classic BMW silky smooth 3.0 6 living up to its reputation, it didn’t ever feel like anything other than an arranged marriage between transmission and engine.

Frequently I’d feel the effects of chassis lag as the elastic feel of the engine would be working against my perfect gear shifts. Whether it be wobbly engine mounts or some sort of weird gearbox bounce, the car would often wobble when startled into acceleration. It’s a throbbing lump and sounds meaty, but without menace. Sport mode would sharpen up throttle response and would exacerbate the strange chassis lag rather than fix it.

The engine felt lethargic and with a fairly 2010 average weight of 1500kg, shouldn’t have felt so. I never quite knew how to get the best out of it as it didn’t feel comfortable being revved, nor did it ever feel like it had the tractability of low down torque, sometimes even getting bogged down at low revs.

This feeling of disappointment is compounded by the inert handling. I’d imagine this is how the American classic cars handled, heavy at the nose and very little feedback through the over-servoed steering. No matter how much I’d lean into the car, it would never communicate its limit to me, feeling often unsafe and unpredictable, even in Sport + mode. It was, strangely enough, remarkably difficult keeping it in a straight line as the car would often graze the lane on the motorway, from one dotted line to the other due to its overly sensitive dead-ahead steering. And dammit, if I want to do a burnout from the slip road and paint black lines on the tarmac, that should be my prerogative. I don’t want an ECU doing the decision making for me by cutting power!

In comparison to the 2.7 Boxster I drove, it’s not even close dynamically. The Z4 makes up a lot of ground with that modern roof, but it had none of the chassis brilliance, nor did it have the perfection of engine and gearbox union that always distinguishes a Porsche from its peers. The Boxster was a car that I simply wanted to drive right out into the middle of the night in winter. I never had the inclination to do that in the Z4, despite its better looks, superior build quality and modern design in ergonomics – but BMW are masters at that.

So, if you want a cab to pose in (and who’d blame you), the Z4 is the more appealing, aesthetically. But if you want a rewarding, engaging roadster that tickles the spine when nobody is looking, then the Boxster is for you.

EDIT:
Bart has emailed me pictures of his new Z4. As I said, if I were to have bought this car, it would be in white and here’s the evidence. It looks spectacular!

Enjoy Bart.

Have eventually pulled the Alpina out of the workshop it was in. After a whole year in their care, all they had done was a respray on the shell. It’s the same story all over that 99% of people doing what I am will recite with almost pin point accuracy. The temptation to pull in new jobs whilst working on a major project is too great for the small workshops, so deadlines are never met.

I’ve now moved to a new firm who have guaranteed a 3 month turn around on the car – I really want the car back by summer, hoping not to have to pack it away for the winter. Really looking forward to this, hope the new firm do a good job.

Meanwhile, the Q7 is about to be dumped in May. It’s time for a replacement, but as always, nothing ever goes to plan. I’ve had repeated call back failures from two different Audi dealerships. I’ve literally left half a dozen messages, I’m actually shouting down the phone “Guys, I wanna give you some of my cash!!” but it’s to no avail. I often wonder if the car industry have any clue as to why it’s crashing and burning. Even Nissan have been awful. I’ve been looking into Qashqai’s as a possible ‘sensible’ replacement, but again, they simply do not return calls. In fact, I’ve left 4 messages for Porsche too! No call backs. Either my phone’s fucked, or I’m on some kind of car dealer blacklist!?

On top of that, some dickhead went into the side of me on the North Circular. He came out waaaay worse, but irritatingly, said he would be defending his case. I didn’t bother pursuing with notifying insurers. Today, I found 2 beautiful, massive door dings. And all my tyres are shot. Lovely, £300 a corner.

Finally, had the RS detailed by Nathan at Cambridge Autogleam. Always does a wonderful job, but I think the car needs a proper 2 day restoration job. Still, took only a few days before some twat decided to use my front bumper as a parking sensor. I mean for christ sakes, how can you not see a florescent green Porsche GT3 behind you?

Drove the car into work Friday and decided to take a tour of the west end on the way back. The weather was glorious and the RS was magnificent, resplendent in its new coat of wax. It was a surreal experience as the car attracted an immense amount of attention. Last time I had pedestrian traffic like this was in the Nissan GTR. But this was something else. I stopped off at the awesome Princi at Wardour Street for a chocolate eclair and I swear, I was frozen in the car. I simply could not get out as I counted at one point 5 people taking photos of me.

Eventually, I plucked up enough courage and stepped out, walked into Princi only to see the car getting a ticket on the windshield. A £50 chocolate eclair then. In front of 1000 people. Awesome.

Call of Pripyat is the third in the trilogy (acting as Sequel to the original game, Shadow of Chernobyl) placing the gamer into the shoes of a STALKER, a bounty hunter, in the Ukrainian town that was affected mostly by the fallout, Pripyat.

It’s a fabulous world that feels as real as can be, sensitively depicting the desolate nature of your surroundings together with the shaman-like activities of other soldiers and stalkers around you as they fight in their own little battles in real time as they try to gain advantages in their own faction wars.

Graphically, it excels in dousing the world in this grey and green overtone that seems to have lost its colour, whilst at the same time illustrating some of the unnatural delights of a world affected by a man made catastrophe.

Although no role playing element is involved, there is character progression. Money is hard to come by in the world so you have to carefully purchase and manage both weapons and ammunition, of which there is a multitude of options. It’s armoury is typically diverse and ranges from cheap, sawn off shotguns that are found two a penny, right up to government special edition sniper rifles that can clean blow the head off an armoured man from 1km away.

The landscape is VAST and some of the locations are utterly terrifying. For the first time in my 30 years of game playing, I screamed at the screen, taking my headphones off and looking at my wife in an utterly embarrassed pose. It really did terrify me.

Being their third installment, it’s a lot less buggy than their previous iterations and gains from the obvious budget inflation and allocation to proper UAT testing. It’s not 100% perfect, but the gaming experience is.

The Lovely Bones is Peter Jackson’s take on the book of the same name, centering around the largely post-life deliberations of a girl witnessing the aftermath and shock to her family after she is abducted and murdered as a 14 year old girl.

It’s a heartrendingly tragic tale that swings from extreme grief and discomfort, to moments of joy and warmth, taking viewers through one of the most emotional film roller coasters of recent times. Although not any scenes of extreme violence, there are tense moments of anxiety that has your ribcage positively quivering from anticipation and dread. Most notable the part where you are thrown with claustrophobic effect, into the dungeon our abductor has created, to lure and capture Susie Salmon allowing us to bask in the dawning realisation that she isn’t getting out again.

As a father of two girls, this was extremely difficult to watch, but as a film lover, I was pleased with the method Jackson employed to pull at our grief strings in ways that were left largely to our imagination.

A very good cast of strong performances, from Mark Wahlberg’s grief stricken father, to the amazingly beautiful Rachel Weisz’s mother, wracked with pain enough to send her into oblivion.

No Jackson film is complete without a heavy heap of sugar by way of gratuitous special effects. A master of talent, we’re graced with amazing depictions of the inbetween world, with a kaleidoscope of colour and texture, blending fantastical locations with the inner workings of a 14 year old girl. These moments provide both a massive respite to the overall grief of the film but also allows Jackson to crack his knuckles in allowing him to do what he does best.

As we’re taken through the film, the single thing I found myself longing for was for some form of retribution and justice. I won’t give away the end of the movie apart from saying I was mildly satisfied.

Green Zone centers around the furor of conceit surrounding the ‘illegal’ Iraqi invasion. With Matt Damon a US Army Captain becoming aware of misleading intel that continually points to non-existent WMD’s, he becomes the fly in the ointment of USA foreign policy.

Caught between the truth of the CIA and the fiction of Government, his decisions lead us through a relatively enjoyable film that plays on the stereotypes of middle eastern sub-culture where everybody belongs to some sort of shadowy underground organisation and hates America.

Despite not having the intelligence and wit of Jason Bourne, Matt Damon is still very entertaining to watch; he’s macho and strong willed, allowing the audience brief moments of reward as he chases justice without compromise.

Having the most amazing helicopter crash ever on film goes some way towards leaving pleasant memories of the film, but it can’t disguise what was essentially a fairly average interpretation of what is a political hot potato. Some very weak performances, especially by Brendan Gleeson, a grade A actor in his own right, but simply unable to shake his strong irish accent making for cringeworthy dialogue.

It’s a given that at any time I have an organised event involving the car, I can almost always guarantee rain. Let’s not forget that this was my second scheduled visit as the first one was canceled due to snow. Regardless, I’ll not let the process of precipitation ruin a drive in one of 2010′s most anticipated cars, the new GT3 RS Gen 2.

The Experience Centre is a fantastic place, it’s a very cosy, intimate environment housing very expensive cars such as the LMP Spyder, Carrera GTs and the odd Silk Cut car. Each visit has a different set of cars so it’s a dynamic, changing place with great hospitality and even better food.

My instructor and I enjoyed the fantastic roast lamb lunch and soon made our way through a rather simple briefing session which is catered quite clearly for people who’ve never driven a fast car before. The centre provides experience days for every new car purchase from Cayenne Diesels to 911 Turbos so the diversity of character and experience is vast. 15 mins later and I’m sitting inside the new (soaking wet) RS.

Initial impressions are of course, wonderful. I challenge any petrol head to maintain a consistent BPM just looking at it. It’s one of those few cars that looks fast just parked. With an exaggerated aerokit promoting downforce by way of its massive, beautifully shaped carbon fibre spoiler and its deep, sculpted front skirt, it’s a candid car that simply does not hide its intention.

Stepping inside and here some cynicism prevails. Going from a purely functional aesthetic on the outside, seeing some of the minor gimmicks made me chuckle. Such as the cord pull doors (which really save nothing but add consternation when closing the door) and the delete air-con function, no sat-nav and lightweight car battery are weight saving features that cannot beat a pure and simple diet!

Starting the engine and we’re introduced to a fantastic baritone note that is ever more prominent thanks to the perspex rear window. In note and pitch, it’s the same sound as my red Gen.2 GT3, but slightly louder, owing mostly to a titanium exhaust and perhaps a more liberal carbon airbox. It’s a delicious note and I couldn’t help but constantly prod the throttle when at idle throughout the whole day, you cannot tire of it. Notch one to the RS.2.

Snick the gear lever into first, release clutch and you also notice that the car has become civilised. There’s less clutch chatter, the gearbox is well behaved and the new carbon seats don’t creak. Naturally there’s a lot to be said for a brand new car, but this had 1500 miles on the clock versus my 3600, so it’s not a huge difference. Also, this was a pre-production model, the only RHD car on the road – or not, as it’s not legally allowed on the road.

The first thing you notice is the new front end – with that wider track, it offers a near elimination of understeer. Even in the wet, once the tyres were warm, it had tenacious grip, allowing that oh so familiar delicacy of balance between front and rear wheels. Oversteer is also on demand, typically in lift off fashion again, but the over zealous protection of the instructors refused me any deselection of traction or stability control. Irksome to say the least, but from the hard forced tail out moments that even went beyond the intervention of any technology, it’s quite clear that the car retains its progressive and benign nature on and off the limit.

That 3.8 is a magnificent engine. It’s a true spiritual sibling to the retired 3.6 lump, sharing all the characteristics of its high revving nature without any of the set backs of capacity increases. You can notice the difference between the Gen 1 and Gen 2 cars, that extra 200cc makes some small, but noticeable, difference with a more tractable low revs pick up, leading to slightly punchier mid-range making some of the high rev shifting typical with the previous generation GT3′s a little redundant. I found myself short shifting a few times, apart from that delightful howl, there really isn’t a valid reason to wring its neck all the time anymore.

There’s even better stability in the harsh left – right switchbacks too, with the balance of the car remaining unprovoked. That wider track providing excellent reassurance. There’s a wonderfully poetic moment when you get a bend right in the RS called the slingshot. Get your angle right, as you wind off your lock coming off a bend, hit the throttle at the right spot on the apex and the car is slung with supernatural efficiency onto the straight, reinforcing the slow in, fast out methodology of the GT3. It’s devastatingly rewarding and demonstrates the absurd levels of mechanical grip offered by an off-the-shelf car. I can only imagine how insane it could be with a track geometry set up.

After an hour and a half of abuse, the heat build up in the car brought on a sweat in me (no air con guys, c’mon!) so I decided I’d had enough. As I pulled it in, it was quite clear by the onlookers which car was getting the most attention. And who’d blame them? The RS really does look fantastic. Incredible given how the internet was so scathing of it when wraps were first taken off. Can’t help but feel I’m smitten.

Walking away, I stepped towards my car with those comparative thoughts of ifs and whys. The most comforting thought is that I’ve got £30k sitting in my bank – ultimately, is it £30k better? Probably not, no.

But then that’s a logical, pragmatic decision out of sync in a world born from passionate ideals. And who wants to be sensible when you have a Grey and Red in the garage?

That wasn’t so much of an issue, most of you will know that I have no fear of the rain and in fact can take great enjoyment out of it. Thankfully, the rain cleared and we were blessed with a dry circuit for the whole day. But there were high stakes at play here, with most of my fellow racers come track day regulars were here in force to prove superiority over one another.

Oulton really is a unique circuit and is a great shame that it’s so far away from my house (about 3 hour drive in clear traffic). It’s got incredible, sweeping undulations, with more blind crests and bends than any other place I can remember, bar the Nordschleife. Like the 911 RS, it’s a multi-faceted place with layers of difficulty peeled off the better you become. It can reward and punish with equal measure, with very little run off on some of the massively hard braking areas, requiring you to depend on your hardware more than any other circuit I know of.

However, I simply was not on the pace. Good friend Glenn McMennamin, who recently won his ProAm 2 championship title in the Porsche Carrera Cup, was always a great benchmark. Even though he was always faster overall, I was able to at least make comparative judgment on the differences. At Oulton, however, I don’t know what happened, but he was simply in a different league, as was Ken, who competes in the Lotus Elise Cup. All three of us in 997 RS’s, I just simply couldn’t maintain the pace. I’d also just picked the car up from Fearnsport after a track geometry and suspension set up, together with that, I exchanged my standard discs for a set of awesome Alcon discs and Pagid RS29 pads all around. The discs, although expensive at £1600 for the pair, provide absurd levels of longevity, with my last set on the white car having lasted about 15 trackdays. The pads are also standard GT3 fare. Finally, brake fluids are changed to high boiling point Castrol.

No matter, I couldn’t get my power down, brakes just weren’t biting and ABS was not cutting in. It doesn’t take a genius, but at the time, I couldn’t see the problem, even though I was staring it down the face!

This was a major dampener for me so I consoled myself by resorting to drifting everywhere. Even on and off the circuit as I went out to buy petrol from the local Shell garage. Unfortunately, this earnt me two different warnings, both outside the circuit and inside! “Compliments of Race Control sir, but please could you stop your tyres from squealing everywhere?” Game over for me…

The GT3 comes with the Michelin Pilot Sport Cups (the tyre on the right) from factory. I knew that my tyres were original from new, now over two years old. Although they had some tread good enough for the road, Cups really need to be fresh to get the most out of them on track. I still wasn’t convinced until I stole Glenn’s spare set from the tyre support crew and got them fitted to my car. These were the new Pirelli Corsa R’s. Not only are they a better compound, offering some high tech science behind its grip levels, but they were also oversized, comfortably fitting a 325 section over a regular 305.

Oh. My. God.

It quite literally felt like a different car from the very moment I turned my first corner on track. Sure footed, solid, extraordinarily grippy with an almost total elimination of understeer and oversteer. It felt so amazingly different that I immediately knocked at least 5 seconds off a lap with them, perhaps even more. It truly was a revelation and I’ve never before felt such a stark contrast in tyre performance and technology.

The curious thing is that I’ve actually had these tyres before on my white GT3, but I do not ever remember being so blown away by them.

There are, of course, caveats. They cost £1700.00. Got back up yet? Here are a few alternatives for your £1700.00 :)

Are they worth twice the price of a set of R888′s? Are they worth a 50% premium over a set of Michelin Pilot Sport Cups? Well, how much do you value those seconds? And to be frank, it’s not just about the laptimes either, they are soooo surefooted, they present a new dynamic to your car previously unexplored. For me, there simply is no question, they are a necessary investment for anybody looking to get good performance on track.

I’ve waxed lyrical about them, so I’ll just end on saying the day was finished on a high note.

Full album can be found here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/blowdog/sets/72157623613201356/

Highlight photos:

Pros
It has one of the best 3.0TDi’s in the business. The BMW unit is more modern and the twin turbo more powerful, but they don’t hold a light to the smoothness of the Audi unit. Dishing out 400 lb/ft, it’s also a surreal proposition. Seeing a 2.5 tonne car being hauled with such ease is off-putting at best of times.
Fabulous gearbox. The six speed auto is smooth and responsive. Sport mode is very effective too, with a far more dynamic use of gears, preferring to hold gears much longer, giving better response. Paddle shift available also for those pretending it’s of any use.
It is very comfortable. With the standard air suspension, it’s a cruiser on all types of terrain. Its high seating position also giving it a naturally comfortable vista, allowing even the wife to navigate the car with suspicious ease.
Surprising agility for a behemoth with adjustable suspension settings providing flexibility based on your mood.
Mountain bike fits right in, no problem. Don’t have to disassemble anything.
Oh, can also fit motorbikes in there too

Cons
Fuel consumption is horrific, averaging 25MPG, making fuel stops a frequent and irksome pastime, especially as each tank costs £100.00, taking absolutely forever to fill up at some courts.
Size is intimidating at first, but even after getting used to the fact that it doesn’t drive like a big car, you realise 80% of parking spaces suddenly become unavailable. You cannot fit in anything other than a completely empty space.
Build quality is typically Americanised. It’s got thin paintwork, exposing tiny scratches. I’ve had trim fall off, minor electrical components fail and fascia dent very easily.

What’s my shortlist? I’m going to hell, but I really like the concept of a roomy, 4×4. With two kids, both with car seats, and a pushchair permanently in the boot, it’s either a 4×4 or people carrier. And I’m not quite the quaker yet.

Audi Q7 – the new ones have engine modifications so they incorporate stop-start tech. This will help the fuel bills no end.
BMW X5 – The dynamic class leader. Not as big as a Q7, but that isn’t such a bad thing
Cayenne Hybrid – too expensive!

Whatever I choose, I will miss this car. It’s been fantastic and easy to live with. A true fire and forget car.

Full set here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/blowdog/sets/72157623431857407/

I’m both terrified and extremely excited by the prospect of driving this car. Naturally, I’m as keen as anybody to see how much difference there is between not only my current RS, but also the Gen2 GT3, and the new Gen2 RS. It’s all getting complicated. However, I’ve also placed a mind-block upon myself, I’m psychologically blocking all RS.2 related material from cranial considerations. If I can’t get one, then they don’t exist right? Why torture myself!?

Autocar have just launched what is probably the best review of the car I’ve seen. Not only is the guy well informed, but we’ve got some real nice video footage of the car. :

There are a multitude of other video and magazine reviews out now, Porsche have no doubt just done the Press launch. Keeping a media black out on these reviews is proving to be very very difficult and I just hope that I’ll get in it and, well, hope it’s not all that better.

To boot, weather is looking spectacular :(

I hope that has some affinity with you, for me it’s a name that stirs a sense of adventure, excitement, honour, chivalry, romance, discovery and exploration. In EPIC proportions.

It’s not often I get to play a game, unable to put down my controller, only to get to the end about 2 weeks later, only to start it again – right from the very beginning. As soon as the credits roll! But Mass Effect 2 is a master class in games making and demonstrates a magnificent achievement in interactive, cinematic gaming.

Explaining anything about this game is a risk to spoilers, so I won’t do so. Anyone familiar with Shepard’s shenanigans from the first game will have no problems getting stuck right in. Even up to the import of your previous character, ME2 dumps all the bad things about ME1 and amplifies all the things that made the original so god damn awesome.

With an incredible depth of dialogue and character interaction, you can shape the nature of your character through varied conversation choices, all ultimately affecting the way your character develops and that of the story itself.

The graphics are as good as anything you’d expect from a modern games studio, but the most captivating facet of ME2 is the sheer scale of the game. There is a sense of perspective presented to the player that immerses you so deep and so realistically that the feeling of ineptitude is washed over you as you explore one planet to the other, from one side of the solar system, to the other.

Combining this with a story line that wouldn’t look out of place in a hollywood epic, together with cinematics that shake to your very soul, I’m not hesitating to tell any 360 owners to get off their fat arses and BUY THIS GAME. This is a true 10/10 game guys and gals and they don’t come that often.

44 Inch Chest centers around our beloved Winstone and draws us even closer as the film unravels amongst the maelstrom of his mid-life whilst he regales us with tales of his wife’s recent departure. Surprise leads to shock, leads to grief, leads to anger, leads to violence. And here we have Winstone in his element, a blubbering wreck of a man, in the company of close friends providing support to a man who is quite clearly not all there. This sense of detatchment from his body gives him an unpredictable edge that provides the film with tense underpinnings from start to finish. As Winstone’s friends bring to him the reason for his wife’s departure, a sickeningly good looking, young, latino waiter, to justice, Winstone acts as judge and jury in deciding the fate of ‘loverboy’.

I’m a fan of the slow burner, preferring a film to dazzle me with dialogue, score and cinematography. 44 Inch Chest has championed these merits, but not without red faces. With a record breaking amount of C words in a film, it really isn’t one for the family. Most coming from the ancient John Hurt too, making the obscene language comical, if not surreal.

There is a finely woven list of characters in this too and despite the warm, friendly nature of each and every one of them, you know they’re not the type to meet in a dark alley. Ian McShane as Meredith is an addictive personality, an openly gay, yet smooth as silk govenor who shares anecdotes as they are dipped in honey and savoured by the audience. As for John Hurt, I’ve yet to see a 70 year old with so much grit and verve, he is a fiercely energetic actor and frightens and entertains in equal measure.

Entertaining and memorable, 44 Inch Chest is a true love story. Not the hollywood style of wishy washy romance, but the proper, married for 20 years love story. Watch and spread the word.

Having suffered an irksome spell of snow and bad weather over the past month, I was happy with anything other than more snow. So when the weather report said ‘Heavy showers all day’ I was jubilant. I’m no alien to a bit of damp and as I hadn’t yet had time to change my discs and pads to more powerful items, what better way to consummate my relationship with my latest GT3?

So the soldiers with me, Henry in his beautifully pristine Cobalt Blue 997 GT3 and Guy in his powerhouse Dark Grey Metallic Nissan GTR. Warriors into battle, not a shred of fear amongst us. As a threesome we’ve together done a multitude of international events. We’ve probably travelled to Europe together dozens of times. We know the best viewing points at the Nurburgring (They’ve done the Scuderia Hanseat 3 times each) We’ve done trackdays together in the 100′s. And this has been going on for nigh on a decade. It’s this experience that we’ve collated, not only as trackday drivers, that allows us as a trio of guys to anticipate each others moves in such a safe and fun experience, regardless of environmental influence. I remember once in Papenburg, northernmost Germany, I had severe tyre damage on 2 wheels. I had to drive back from Germany to London at 30MPH through the night. It took me 9 hours to get home. Henry and Guy (with chest infection) did not leave my side and stuck with me the entire journey.

It’s this trust that allows the three of us to attack a trackday employing the ferocity we desire, with zero visibility, without risk to ourselves or others.

Enough with the pleasantries. How was the RS? [broken record mode]Absolutely bloody brilliant [/]. I have no other word to describe it. Rain or shine, this car is the king – undisputed. It really was non-stop rain all day and the GT3 is not a car to take liberties with. But I know this car, I’ve lived with it for years. I know its habits, its foibles and its idiosyncrasies. I know when to press it, I know when to submit.

The RS was so similar to the cooking vanilla GT3 that I’m really struggling to find some difference. I do notice an eagerness to rev – this is down to both the free-revving nature of the lightweight flywheel and also an effect of noise driven by the lack of rear window insulation (it’s made of lightweight plastic). I also noticed that when provoked into a drift (which was practically a permanent state yesterday), the car had a tendency to snap back into your line of sight with aggression. If not checked, this can lead to snappy fishtailing. I’m blaming this on a number of things; Firstly, the road conditions were totally chaotic – with the deep freeze over winter, this was followed by monsoon-like weather. What this did to the track surface is anyones guess. Secondly, I hadn’t had a geo done on the car yet, so I’m not sure what kind of camber this car has out of the factory. Rumour has it that camber settings from factory are often inconsistent and need adjusting, regardless of setting. Finally, and almost obviously, we have a wider track on the RS. This would possibly account for more grip on the rear, something you’d notice when coming out of an oversteer/drift moment.

Two other things I’ve noticed about this car. There’s the noise. It really is a stupendous, epic, shrieking banshee wail that entices at 3k rpm, exhilarates at 6k rpm and brutally rapes the senses at 8.2k rpm. Halving the thickness of the rear window and turning it into plastic has amplified the acoustic brilliance from inside the car and the pursuit of revs continues over and over again. The other thing to notice is the fantastic braking stability with that spoiler. It has none of the shifting, fidgety nature the GT3 has, allowing you to haul in under hard braking time and time again with sure-footedness. It’s reliable, dependable and controllable right up to the stopping inch, allowing you to focus on your approach line with clarity.

As it’s thinner brother proved before it, the RS is a delicate tool. The GTR a crushing carpet bomb of excellence as it devours anything in its path with utter abandon, the RS choosing instead to surgically remove its targets one by one, micro-managing inputs, gracefully crafting a line from one corner to the next and allowing itself to be adjusted minutely as it communicates the level of each and every wheel, one by one. It really is a revelation in driver communication and the low level seating of the fixed carbon seats places your arse right bang in the middle of the front and rear wheels. I have full dolby 7.1 DTS surround and I’m watching Avatar from the best seat in the house. It’s still no match for the GTR’s power on the straights, nor its incredible technology when juggling drive distribution through its four wheels. Coming out of a chicane onto a straight, the RS is no match for the GTR as it just opens its maw and chews through metal, tarmac, flesh and bone combined. The only hope you have is to fix up a number of consecutive bends – at this, the GTR struggles to contain it’s leviathan weight as gravity simply cannot be overcome – regardless of how many GB of processing power you throw at it. Still, I know which car I’d rather drive home in and the GTR is no doubt worthy of the many international accolades it has collected. Speaking of, has anyone questioned why Michael Bay hasn’t used one in Transformers? It’s perfect!

What was surprising was the wet weather ability of the RS – especially given it was on Michelin Pilot Sport Cups – horrible wet weather tyres. I suspect with the Pirelli Corsa R Systems, the car would have ripped a hole in the fabric of space time continuum. Although grip was severely restricted, the sheer level of communication allowed for healthy progress.

Henry in his GT3 provides the comedy. We’ve always enjoyed the odd black flag at Snetterton as we cannot resist the odd showboating. Today was a little different with the marshals as they appeared to be quite laid back and relaxed, considering there were only 20 cars on the track that’s no surprise.

I still maintain that there’s very little difference between a GT3 and its RS stablemate. It’s just as competent and equally effective in both rain and shine. I really am loving the colour scheme though, as loud and offensive as it may be, it’s quite suiting really. The ultimate test will be on a dry day after I’ve done my track geometry set up. Then I will be in a position to compare and that day can’t come soon enough.

My name is Cem. I am a GT3 addict.

As my predecessor elected to retain the car upon the inverse of his garage, I came to the car and discovered it buried underneath 2 inches of snow. Anyone who’s anyone knows GT3′s hate the cold for long periods. They are wild, feral beasts that choose to dance upon warm environments and work themselves into sweated frenzies. Anything more than a couple of weeks in sub-zero temperatures, the battery dies.

And my battery was dead.

First trip to Halfords and I bought another trickle charger (typical when you REALLY need your trickle charger, it’s actually 50 miles north because a friend borrowed it). This was plugged into the car and after 6 hours, ignition turned. Great, still nothing. Another trip to Halfords and I returned with a new battery and £120 lighter of pocket. Official Porsche one costs £300.00 – I hope I will not need it come warranty inspection time, later this month.

At last, I’m out, winding down doing 40 mph on the North Circular with pleasant satisfaction upon myself. Not much can do this, I find being in a familiar car environment is the great antithesis to stress.

This is my first 997 in RS guise. After periods of ridiculing RS buyers for having too much money to burn, I find myself open to revenge criticism.

Comparisons between the two inevitable of course, but I’ll not be qualified to do so until limits are explored on track. What I can say from the off is how incredible susceptible the RS is to tramlining, the wheels finding solace amongst the rutted valleys within the tarmac. Especially so of late, as the snow and low temperatures have made a mockery of UK asphalt. I inadvertently went over pot-holes tonight that were violent enough to shatter my spinal column.

Noise is also amplified. Not only is the rear window made of plastic, so less able to insulate noise, but also the single mass flywheel makes for a very noisy clutch. The acoustic effect is there to accentuate the ‘trackday’ aspect of the RS, but what I found it does is make the standard GT3 so much more hospitable in times when you aren’t on the racetrack.

But these are minor negatives to what is, of course, a staggeringly good car. Perfect heel and toeing – not because I’m a heel and toe master, but simply because the car’s been built to allow me, nay, entice me to do it. In the same way the steering wheel position, relative to your seating height and arm length is just spot on and even when you’re at a traffic light you can’t help but feel you’re on the grid. It feels like that scene in Avatar where the Na’vi connect with various animals via the nerve receptors at the end of their hair. It’s just a raw, primal, fleshy connection between man and car.

Tonight’s weather conditions were treacherous, given the amount of crap on the roads, that wasn’t surprising. But the GT3, being the delicate tool that it is, is subtley attuned to these variations in road and weather conditions. Care and attention is required to avoid any heart in mouth moments that require quick flicks of the wrist and brave maintenance of throttle and steering alike, lest you end up like the poor Z4 driver tonight who inexplicably buried himself into the very foundations of Hammersmith flyover at 50 MPH. I couldn’t find the front of that car for the life of me. It simply was no more.

2009 was an appalling year, both commercially and personally. After having been subjected to countless burglaries and various episodes of the law working against me, it’s nice to be back in something that is familiarly excellent.

It doesn’t make 2009 alright, but it does make it easier to swallow.

Spot the coffee cup.

How quaint

It’s shit. It has the worst character textures I’ve seen in the past 5 years, lacks the character development and intimacy of the PC version and has an inherent mundanity about it that made me take it back to Game, 1 hour after buying it and trading it in for an instant £30 loss. That’s how much it sucked.

[xrr rating=2/10 imageset=tiny_star label="Rating:"]

PC version:

I had to check the title of this game as I just can’t believe it’s the same thing? A much bigger emphasis on the RPG element, it’s so much closer to the bloodline of Bioware games of yore, such as Balders Gate and Neverwinter Nights – both genre defining, benchmark games.
In 1600 x 1050 resolution, it also pisses on the 360 version and together with the top down, team based control method with the quickbar along the bottom, it’s been redefined.

It’s also a huge game as I’m discovering. Fingers aching already!

As a lover of film, I always try to see movies, especially those in particular I’ve been waiting for, with a clear mind. That will mean a mental black out of articles, reviews, films, trailers etc. With Avatar that’s been nigh on impossible and I think it’s one of the most hyped up movies of the past decade. Film posters everywhere, games, merchandise, McDonald’s – you simply can’t escape the machine. Unfortunately, I went to the movie expecting BIG things based on this hype. Amazingly, I wasn’t disappointed.

The story you all know, but for those at the back, we’re talking hoorah America seeking to ruin the natural and peaceful habitat of a biped race of people from a distant, lush, planet that appears to be home to a very valuable source of unobtanium. Cue, hired guns and mercenaries and dirty corporate tactics.

Meanwhile, our protaganist, the freaking awesome Sam Worthington, is part of a new experiment where he exchanges his (wheelchair bound, crippled) body for a fully functioning, genetically grown clone of one our alien lifeforms.

The first thing you notice, the thing that doesn’t change and the last thing you notice, is the jaw dropping spectacle of Cameron’s vision. In full 3D, on a large, digital cinema screen, it is a life changing experience. Cameron has been noted many times recently for claiming that Avatar will to for Cinema what Technicolour did in the 60′s. What we’re talking about here is a reinvention of standards and I welcome it with a massive grin and yelping gestures.

I donned a 3 hour smile through the most amazing looking film of all time. The Na’vi, in all their animated glory, are simply not a CGI backdrop and are a pivotal, real, tangible, part of this story, Last time I was taken in by so much character was with Golem.

As Jake (Sam Worthington) spends more time with the Na’vi, learning their culture and gathering inteligence as a home-made spy, he slowly starts to favour his avatar over his parked, paraplegic body and in doing so, becomes a ‘part’ of the Na’vi tribe.

What follows is a climax of maniacal proportions as the inevitable battle comes to a head with the modern tech of US Marines fighting against a spiritual breed of people that demonstrate strong ties with everything organic around them. To boot, I’ve always been an admirer of Cameron’s choice to always place strong, leading women and although we don’t have our Ripley or Sarah Conor, what we do have is a fabulous Neytiri, his female Na’vi ambassador. She is deliciously woven as a warrior/hunter woman and you can’t help but relate to the conflicted emotions of Jack.

Story is a little predictable, but if you’re a comic book fan you’ll love the sheer audacity of the plot, even if you occasionally grown inwards as the story unfolds. It’s typically American avant-garde, with the right dose of marine mentality, countered with the frequent self loathing and defecating quips of corporate greed.

A very very cool movie and I suspect James Cameron will be reveling in this achievement of having created a cinematic equivalent of the great Renaissance.

p.s. you MUST MUST watch the 3D version. It’s a revelation.

It’s the one true time in the whole year where I can relax, in the purest sense. The type where I can run a bath in the middle of the day and turn my phone off, knowing I’m under no pressure.

It’s also a dangerous time as idle hands become the devils tools and I can demonstrate better than anyone that a fool and his money are easily parted.

The week before Xmas, I gave Porsche the bird. I will be publishing an open letter in the new year, unless they get in touch with me which will be as miraculous as seeing Jesus Christ come out of my garden shed as I’m reaching in for another pack of kitchen rolls. As a result, I decided that I no longer wanted £10,000 in their care so I also asked for a refund to my deposit. Right now, my toys are being thrown everywhere. I’ll get over it, but right now I want them to know they’re being dicks.

So. I went and bought a car. A deposit of £7k has been placed and I hope to pick it up on Wednesday. Can’t wait :)

It uses some very clever techniques that are a combination of Adobe Flash cutouts with classic animation, but the results are simply extraordinary. I’ve never seen animation, in the general sense, portray so much life in both character and surroundings. It’s a stark contrast as the film tackles some very heavy issues, from genocide in war, to mental degradation and psychological breakdowns. It’s moody, gritty and quite violent in places. There is no glory here, apart from attempting, successful, to recite mans folly in war especially when young of age – the attraction of war is a toffee apple and we are presented this by bright visuals and dynamic lighting effects that appear to be polish to a rusty collection of ill-fitting gears and cogs underneath. Secondly, I have to applaud the soundtrack. It’s a combination of orchestral, moody, middle eastern tempo and alternating 80′s and techno music. It’s always, perfectly placed with the action, or anti, on screen and does so much to heighten the importance of the scenes that ultimately unfold to its grizzly ending.

There’s also the dialogue. I’m a fan of world cinema, but the visuals are so breathtaking, especially in Bluray, that you simply do not want to tear your eyes off the delicious sights to read the subtitles. Regardless, I’m glad of the sub titles as the dialogue is brilliant – I’m familiar with the ‘sound’ of hebrew as I live in an area rich with Jewish inhabitants and often it can come across as a little coarse and guttural, but somehow there’s a milky smoothness about the words batted between friend and gun partners. I found myself drawn into the intricately delivered facial expressions, the hand gestures and the odd shoulder shrug that so typically defines human reaction – something that is rarely conveyed so well in film, let alone animated.

As a historical lesson, those in the know claim it to be an incorrect portrayal of events. However, I felt it to be a heartbreaking tragic reenactment of a massacre of Muslim inhabitants in a film made my Jewish Israelis. If anything, it prompted me to do further research and establish some more facts on an incident I’d previously never heard of and I’d like to congratulate the film makers on such an astonishingly good achievement.

I think I can safely say that this is my perfect kind of movie. Slow building, classy, ridiculously good plot, superb soundtrack and haunting visuals.

Moon follows the life of an offshore engineer coming to the end of his three year contract. His utterly solitary life is a depressingly bleak presence on a vacant planet and the feeling of overpowering dread and near suicidal emotion is strong throughout as the film is bathed in dark colours, is devoid of familiar sounds and offers no comfort to neither our protagonist nor the audience as we suffocate in the hopelessness and despair of loneliness.

However, he does have a number of things to comfort him, such as the long distance, pre-recorded video messages from his wife and child on earth, providing him with incentive to drone on until his imminent collection and release.

A near fatal accident prematurely reveals the existence of a process involving engineers and their return, but discussing further provokes risk of serious spoilers – and boy is that a spoiler.

I’m a huge fan of Solaris, both the original and the much criticised remake with Clooney. Moon has many parallels, from the incredibly intelligent soundtrack down to the slow pace of the movie – both provoke existential contemplation with references to mans life in relation to the ‘grander design’.

Moon is a future classic and rates as one of the best films of 2009, if not the past decade. It’s one of those awesome films that has story and dialogue strong enough to support a stage play even in the absence of CGI. Imagine Event Horizon and Solaris, somewhere in that group of space dramas sits Moon.

However, in my deliberations concerning the continued reasoning of these opportunists, I’ve come to the conclusion that they are perhaps after the Focus RS. As a result, I made a rather hasty decision and sold it back to Perry’s Ford.

Hindsight always does cast a rose tinted projection of the past as I’m already missing it, despite hardly having used the car in the past few weeks.

I still maintain that it was one of the best and most dramatic looking cars on the road. It is positively overflowing with aggression and machismo with it’s bulldog like stance and flared and winged decorations. I wonder if it actually shares any panels with a normal Focus.

I do have a disadvantage, however, in comparing this to other cars of this genre. Fact is, the last hot hatch I owned was back in 1992 when I owned a Mk2 Vauxhall Astra GTE 2.0 8v so as a result, I have no experience in casting any benchmark comparison. I do, however, understand the concept of driver involvement and fun and for that reason, allow me to place judgment…

There seems to be a lot of press lately about the gross exageration of the Focus RS power figures. Although stated at about 305BHP, many journalists are claiming to have dyno’d no more than 275 – bringing it down by 30BHP. Coupled with a 1500kg weight, you’d expect a minor struggle, but it simply isn’t case with a ferociously addictive lunge that reels in cars in the horizon far quicker than any figures should give it credit for. It feels powerful, weighty and absorbed and does not let any of those qualities deter its delicious turn in. Even in the wet, sharp, quick turns of the wheel are followed by obedient, crisp adjustments. It feel dialed in completely, even with my tyres part worn.

But it’s also in the wet where the frustrations start to creep in – unfortunately, it’s pretty much rained the entire time I owned this car. Anything over than 50% throttle will spin the wheels in 1st, 2nd and sometimes 3rd gear – even with traction control on. Now, I don’t normally mind wheelspin, in fact I find it challenging. But in a FWD 300BHP car, it’s simply annoying. You see, the wheels don’t just spin away, the entire front section of the car jumps up and down like an agricultural pile driver. It makes an awfully embarrassing show of itself and I often wonder if people on the outside hear the massive bangs the suspension arms perform as the chin of the car makes out like Bruce Forsythe. It really is unseemly and all it does is stop you from accelerating hard again which kind of ruins the fun.

Another really annoying thing is the bloody mindedness of the entire lux pack 2 system. For a start, why oh why does it not come with the iPhone connecter cable from the begining? I mean what’s the point in providing all the technology and then leaving the owner to then subsequently go out to Ford and buy a £20 cable? No sense. However, that’s only the start of the problem as you try to define some logic in the arbitrary success of the unit. Sometimes it recognises your iPhone, sometimes it doesn’t. Today I spent 30 mins trying to fix the bluetooth, then realising that I’d arrived at my destination. Except the sat nav dropped me off 10 miles away from where I wanted it.

Finally, there’s the build quality, which is appalling. First, I had a large piece of plastic fly out from under the sat nav and land on my lap. I couldn’t fit it back on again so back to dealer. Except this time, the whole dashboard kinda punched itself out by about 2 inches on the left. So it went back to the dealer again, but not before deciding to vomit out all the screws that keep the inner wheel arch linings together (apparently a Ford recall).

However, get a few choice moments behind the wheel where you’ve connected up a couple of tight bends and it simply doesn’t matter anymore as the Focus RS bathes you in waves of comedy character. It’s boisterous fun, it sounds superb and just knows how to show you a good time.

I’m certainly going to miss its immense practicality, with its full 4 seats and massive boot space, with reversing camera, keyless ignition, pray-and-beg bluetooth and ipod connectivity, sat nav and telephone module. If I was in the market for a £25k hot hatch, there would be no contest! But I’m not. I’m in the market for a GT3 aight?

Huge thanks, meanwhile, to Perry’s Ford in Aylesbury who were cracking to deal with.

There were three cars there on view, photos below (Many thanks for the assumed permission for the photos from Layo, a user on Pistonheads). They really are quite abusive and shocking in their appearance with the GreyBlack and Red appearing the most suitable. White and red looking fantastic, but I’ve done White way too much lately with the last 997 for two and a half years.

That carbon spoiler is a work of art, though, and it is a fantastic combination of sculpted carbon and crafted alloy. All in all, the car is a sharpened tool that leaves no doubt in the mind as to its intentions and capabilities.

I managed to enjoy some good lunch with Geoff Turral, MD of Porsche Marketing GB, where we had a good head to head about Porsche’s current ordering and vetting processes which have caused me much deliberations of late. No promises were made but good headway was reached regarding my issues.

There’s no question, there has been a LOT of work gone into the recent RS with considerable effort to make the distinctions between GT3 and RS. However, there is also pressure on the driver now. If you turn up to a circuit with this, nothing else than ‘fastest’ should matter.

The theory test followed which was really a combination of multiple choice questions firstly on flags, then hypothetical scenarios on and off track. Easy stuff and an easy pass. Now comes the expensive bit. Decent kit on its own is going to cost me in the region of £1500.00 and I’ve already started looking at cars such as this:
http://www.pistonheads.com/sales/1244526.htm

So my question to myself, do I get a 997RS.2, or do I go for something cheaper and sink some money that I don’t have into racing?

Why didn’t I take up a cheaper hobby? Something like flight?

This is truly the most terrifying film I’ve seen and a cinema experience to witness first hand. From the very, anxious early start to the story, right up through the build up of tension up until the climatic, blood curdling end, the audience were totally absorbed in the malevolence of the film. I witnessed two people, in separate incidents, get up and run out the cinema in fear. I saw grown men cower inside their hooded tops in a conflict between cowering terror and human curiosity. I witnessed adult couples arguing between whether they should leave or if they should stay.

Made from a budget of $15,000 by the two protaganists in the movie (it’s actually filmed in his own home), we follow a Blair Witch style handycam documentary / video blog of a couple who appear to be plagued by ever increasing displays of paranormal activity. Playing a tennis game between belief and cynicism, where the boyfriend is outright mocking of the events, looking for a factual reason for the tomfoolery, we also learn that the girl is a little more human in trying to associate the events by relating them to some form of personal experiences in her childhood past.

The movie is mostly based around the bedroom during the hours where the couple are asleep, but the genius of the film doesn’t come from what we’re shown or what we hear, it’s the things we can’t see or hear. The placement of the camcorder every night in a position that captures the couple sleeping, whilst to the left of the frame we see the open bedroom door leading to a dark corridor that darkens into oblivion, presents us with an unknown terror that plagues every fantasist when alone at night listening to the things that go bump. The juxtaposition of seen and unseen is simply genius and masterful in the art of composition and direction.

There is naturally a crescendo of activity that culminates in an ‘omg my blood has turned cold’ reaction each and every time and the ultimate gift to the viewers is the notion that here is a story you can take home with you. Being based in a real life environment, every single movie-goer can relate to this and I can guarantee everybody will go home after watching that movie and not treat their home in the same manner. My cinema partner that evening went home and slept with all the lights in the house left on.

This is true psycho-horror that takes advantage of society’s obsession with reality TV. Our protaganists become real people, we know them, they don’t appear to be acting in front of a camera and their actions are as candid as can be – all this paints a picture of realism that makes the unfolding events even more terrifying.

If you liked Blair Witch Project or REC, then please get into the Cinema to see this. It must be seen at the cinema because a) You need pitch black to watch the movie in as you eyes dart from left to right trying to see things moving in the dark and b) you need to have volume very high because believe me, you’re going to want to make out the sounds that go bump in the night!

Go see – a future classic.

For those who didn’t know, my Alpina turned out to be a toffee apple. It’s a term used in the trade to describe a delicious looking skin that disguises rotten bodywork underneath. My car turned out to be a bit of a dog. So we went right back down to the shell. The whole car was stripped, cleaned, galvanised, sanded, wielded and repainted in its original Lachs Silver glory.

It’s starting to look fabulous again, even though it’s just a shell. Next step is to rebuild the original Alpina C2 2.7 engine.

Update soon.

There’s spectacular effort – it’s evident in every stroke, every thumbprint and every movement of limb and ligament. Stop motion has never appeared so characterful.

Clooney is perfectly placed as the voice of Mr. Fox with his suave cunning tested without his apparant good looks. Funny too – and the adult kind of funny.

Labelled as ‘Disco Lento’, this modern take of new-romantic, slow disco and electro pop is a sickeningly stylish performance of what is quite a melodic piece.

Not in the habit of enjoying mainstream music, I’m silently, selfishly, hoping that there is no huge success to be granted, otherwise I will be deleting this post.

You can listen to them here:

http://www.myspace.com/ithurts

[xrr rating=10/10 imageset=tiny_star label="Rating:"]

With 1929 black and white silent movie Man with a Movie Camera playing in the background and Cinematic Orchestra creating a unity of sound and vision, the magnificence of two distinct artforms clash to bring together a unique, unforgettable experience that only a tableau can replicate.

Orchestral, acoustic, epic – Cinematic Orchestra sit on top of a genre populated by few. A real experience.

Forza 3 is a spectacular driving game in the vein that SHOULD cause Gran Turismo some distress – and rightly so, that game is the biggest turd of the year with it’s awesomely unsimulator type handling, lack of crash damage modelling and, a bug bear for me, a complete lack of any skidmarks or wheelspin marks on the road.

It doesn’t boast the largest collection of cars on the market, but it does have all the coolest. On a HD plasma, it looks delicious, suffers no visible framerate loss and has a quality of audio that really makes excellent use of full surround.

Multiplayer is where this game lives and despite a slightly lacking matchmaking facility, once you’re in a full lobby, you are guaranteed a fabulously exciting arena for bumper to bumper racing that rewards the careful and punishes the wreckless.

This is the greatest car game ever made. Oh and with my special edition awesomes box, I have a funky keyring and USB stick too.

I’m pissed off with it for a few reasons.

1) Plot.
It really is the most random storyline I’ve ever seen. It hops, skips and jumps from one direction to the next and it appears to have arbitrary plots just so they can justify various token FPS levels. Airports, streets, shanty towns, houses – everything’s there but it’s a scrapheap challenge of game levels. I don’t mind so much the ‘Russia invading USA’ thing (World in Conflict spun that tale brilliantly). It’s just that there was no real fluidity and most of it made no fucking sense.

2) Single player campaign
I’m mainly pissed off with the relative shortness of the game. It was over way too quickly. On top of that, it’s got a pretty good skirmish kind of mode but some of them can only be played multiplayer and, well, we all know how we feel about that.

3) Super AI
I hate this on FPS game so fucking much. I will be prone on the ground with full camo army ranger gear – practically invisible to the naked eye, I’ll crawl along the ground slower than a snail, pop my scope from behind a barrel and BAM I get shot at from 2 miles away by a one eyed militant with an uzi. IT MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE. Don’t do it. JUST DON’T.

[SPOILERS]

Having said that, there WAS some freaking typically awesome MW moments.
1) Jumping over that ridge in the snow-mobile was pretty rad
2) Jumping onto the helicopter ladder just as it’s flying away, in time to the crescendo of the spectacular soundtrack – this actually had me yelping out loud.
3) Dual Desert Eagles – I mean, we’re all blokes, right?
4) Mobile Sentry Guns are fucking brilliant. More games need this.

Overall, an excellent game in its own right, but I still think MW1 has it licked.

1) I place order for a GT3 gen2 at Porsche Reading
2) Car arrives, I’m deliriously happy – so much so, that I want to go for an RS gen2
3) I get an opportunity to take a friends order for a 1st place RS. Dealer in question agrees to the swap.
4) I decide to sell the GT3 in anticipation of the forthcoming RS. Porsche Reading make me an offer and I accept.
5) Porsche ask questions about this ‘RS’ I’ve organised. I say very little. Shortly after, a memo gets sent around to all dealers – “No order transfers are allowed”.
6) I lose my slot on the RS
7) I ask Porsche to sell me back my GT3 – they agree on the Friday. I ask for some short time to arrange finances
8) I call back Monday multiple times and email them to arrange transfer
9) Tuesday I receive email that explains car has been sold to somebody else.

This makes me sick to the teeth. I’m pretty much convinced Porsche Reading have had a hand in ensuring that this RS order got rescinded. Still, having just purchased my 3rd GT3 (only parted £90k with them a month before) I’d have expected a little common courtesty over the weekend by way of “Hi Cem, I’ve got somebody interested, do you definitely want the car back?”. Nothing.

Even now, I am sending emails to them asking for Dealer Principle names and I am being ignored.

Perhaps I should have done what any other budding opportunist would have done by way of making a massive premium on the car when I sold it. I could easily have put a £10k sticker on top.

Ugh…

That’s a saying we laughed about as kids when we were young. It came after a period of relative wealth during my early teens which had us in BMW’s, Jag’s and Merc’s for a few years. Leading out of the recession of the 90′s, I was in a 4 gear Corsa 1.2.

So it was with some frame of reference I was able to refer back to the Equidaen saying from 20 years ago. Having nurtured a GT3 for the past two years to a point where I experienced Zen every time out on the track, venturing out in the Focus RS was…….enlightening.

Forgive me. For many people, the Focus RS represents a real world aspiration wrapped up in a real world car. A sub £30k hot hatch that wraps up violent design, murderous ambition and uncontrolable urge in a socially unacceptable package. It really is a comedy sketch.

The day at Silverstone started wet, which meant the Focus RS really doesn’t know what to do apart from ensure that its driver is shrieking at every minor indescretion. Understeer, oversteer, drifting, torquesteer, bumpsteer, scrub, grind and many other popular latino grooves. You name it, it will throw it at you. Thankfully, it’s still a lot of fun and any of those crazy dance moves are delivered with full notice as you’d expect from any fwd hot hatch.

It feels a little cumbersome with its full 1500kg weight apparent on the high speed bends such as maggots, but otherwise has a delicious turn in that works well until you need to drive out of it. In the dry, you can moderate throttle and adjust steering each time the wheels start spinning to pull you out of a turn but in the wet, it’s just a hopeless balance of throttle and a few prayers.  Otherwise you just witness the revs shoot up and the car drift way off line, sometimes dangerously off the tarmac.

Which brings into question the traction control. Ford have done a fantastic job with this. On the road, I’m often looking at the dashboard for any signs that it is intervening, it’s so subtle. On the track, it’s obvious. With traction control on, it works pretty well accelerating out of the wet bends, but get the car into oversteer or any drift, it’s intrusive and stops you from pulling the car back into line again. With TC off, you can play with some ridiculous angles, but forget about those bends.

As the day dried out, so did grip and all 300BHP can be put to effective use. It’s a really fast hatch, no question. Naturally, it loses its punch after about 110MPH when things start to slow down a bit. On Silverstone, that’s noticed as all the GT3′s start to thunder past, providing me with reasons for not wanting to be in the Focus. The odd tussle with R26.R’s were great fun though, with the Focus RS more than a match for the track focused hatches. The closest to a fight was with a car chipped, giving it more power than the Focus RS.

A comment needs to be made about the brakes though, they were fantastic. They offered great peddle feel, did not fade at all and maintained their consistency throughout. The car behaved wonderfully in fact. But it still left me longing for my GT3 as I came out of it feeling as though I’d taken the car as far as I could – there really was nothing further to learn.

Henry, having seen the look of melancholy in my face, handed me his keys to his GT3 and said “Go knock yourself out”….. I really didn’t need convincing and what followed was 10 laps of pure, undiluted, non-filtered bliss. It was an utter joy and within minutes, I was again exploring the many depths, peeling layer after layer from the GT3, only to find new aspects of its character that had previously as yet been undiscovered. “Do you mind if I showboat a bit, Henry?” preceeded some 60deg drifting, naturally for the crowds, in what is the greatest car ever made (TM).

Driving the GT3 after a whole day with the Focus RS was like finding your children after having lost them in a shopping centre. The Focus RS is a magnificent hot hatch, but the GT3 is a touch of divine glory.

Have always loved this car from launch. Even after having seen it at the Geneva motorshow for the first time, I was smitten by how ridiculously agressive the design was, from its drooping fat chin, to its over exaggerated spoiler on the boot. It was basically a charicature of the hot hatch and in no way could it be launched in concept trim!

Except it was.

I need a car to enjoy over the winter and what better way than a White Focus RS. Nearly new with 2k miles on the clock, the Focus RS is a pretty special play toy. With over 300 BHP and 325 ft/lb torque, any hard acceleration can simply be regarded as nothing other than comedy! I know for a fact that I’m going to be chewing through tyres in this car. Slam your foot down in 2nd, 3rd or even 4th and your arms suddenly start wrestling with the wheel as it tries to break free from its shackles and throw itself out the window in a glorious escape to freedom. It’s also ridiculously cheaply made. I’ve already had bits of plastic trim from the facia fall off in my hand. But then, this is a £26k car. It’s basically a Ford Focus 1.4 underneath, only with anabolic steroid abuse.

Have you ever seen such an aggressive front before?! It’s positively drunk and off its face and you look it in the eye and you’ll be guaranteed to house a bottle in your temple before the nights out.

So, agressive looks, hyperactive steering – is there anything that is vaguely normal about this car? Actually, no. Weirdly enough, it’s about 100kg heavier than the GT3, weighing in at about 1500kg. So it’s not light, but without appearing blatantly predictable, it’s actually pin sharp in delicacy and pointedness. Even in damp conditions, roundabouts are adhesive and it’s only with aggressive use of mid-corner throttle does the car look you in the face and shout ‘LOL PHYSICS’.

There’s something wonderfully endearing about owning a £25k hot hatch. With a 90k GT3, you can’t talk to people about it without them thinking you’re a wanker. The Focus RS is the Barry McGuigan of the car world, a people’s champion, not concerned about false pretences but merely tasked with getting a job done without compromise.

It’s also got a wealth of toys that put the GT3 to shame, especially given its price tag. Reversing camera, touch screen sat nav, keyless entry and go, ipod connector etc. Those seats are also pretty darn rad.

I’m at Silverstone this weekend with a bunch of others in hot hatches – the GT3′s are being left at home. This time, I don’t mind so much :)

Oh and watch this bleeding video!

After my trackday at Snetterton, my brakes developed an unpleasant noise and vibration. An appointment was made to Porsche Reading to rectify said problem, although my fears were cemented by then – it was obvious the steel brakes were simply not up to the task. A huge disappointment, given how Andreas Preuninger waxed lyrical about them at the launch. Frankly, they’re a huge disappointment and I decided at that point to never spec steel discs on a GT3 again (more on that later!).

Regardless, I was told by Porsche, after countless photos and videos sent to Porsche Germany, that the brakes had been subjected to abuse and would not be covered by neither goodwill nor warranty. I came away perplexed, if there’s one thing I do not do, that’s abuse my cars. I know better than many the cooling cycles necessary for discs during trackday use. So I came home and after some careful consideration, decided to put the car up for sale. I figured winter was coming, it wasn’t going to get any good use and I had the RS coming in March (more on that later!!).

Within a day of putting the car up for sale, Porsche called me and offered to buy the car there and then. Deal done and sold. The car was already at Porsche Reading having the brakes investigated, so it was simply a case of coming to my house to collect the V5 documents. However, after having committed to the sale of the car, I shortly got told that due to dealer process restructuring, I also wouldn’t be getting the GT3RS!

The temptation to cancel my sale on the eve of the buyer turning up was immense and took a number of phonecalls to trusted colleagues to sway me from one side to another. In the end, it took a sensible approach and I let the car go. It’s a MASSIVE shame and I’m more upset about this epic trackday booked for this Sunday at Silverstone. It’s practically a who’s who of trackdays. Still, I’ve just bought something else for the weekend….

As for the RS, I’m going to have to hunt one down in the new year come spring time. I’ve heard there are very limited numbers planned with only about 40 cars due to the UK. This is going to make it very difficult to source one without a premium, but I’ll keep looking.

And my Guards Red GT3? Well, given that it was only in my hands for a few weeks, it’s difficult to really justify the £30k premium over the Gen1 GT3, which, let’s face it, is a stupendously good car. Really, it’s utterly magnificent. And the Gen2? Well, it’s faster, that much is certain – the fact that it can now keep up with a Nissan GT-R on full chat says a lot. It’s also very good looking with significant improvements to it’s overall aesthetic – that rear spoiler is truly epic. It’s also updated with mod-cons such as touch screen sat nav, ipod connector etc.

I’ll miss this car for sure, I didn’t get to really bond with it – I guess I’ll leave that for the RS. Speaking of RS’s….

Immediate assumptions will no doubt question the quality of my locale. Fact is, it’s an affluent area in North London and is somewhat well regarded as a ‘family friendly’ region. It is unfortunate that the very nature of London is a celebration of ethnic and cultural diversity. A hub of cosmopolitan and cross national activity, it has become so rich in identity that in tragic ironic circumstance, it also has none.

The house in question is a dream home. Bought at the absolute peak of the housing boom, the region is so independant in it’s own little micro-economy, it’s amazing to have found that the value of the property has actually increased considerably – relatively speaking. It’s your pretty standard fare of being a 4 bedroom house with a separate garage, front garden and back garden, driveway etc. Suburban idealist living.

About a year after moving in, I fell ill with flu and decided to take the day off and sit at home. Whilst in bed, the distant sound of chaos attempted to drive through my dreams. Feverous temperatures normally tell my brain to switch off strange, uncommon sounds. But the persistance of the sounds piqued my curiosity and in my drunken like stupor, I dragged my heals across the floor to the staircase and started to descend. Half way down, the stark, shocking realisation that I wasn’t alone suddenly cleared my head of any dull, smokescreen. To then find two africans standing there, in my living room, hoods erected to disguise themselves, was the single most effective wake up call I’ve ever experienced. A sudden rush of adrenaline had me leap the final steps and curse towards their direction.

Between you and I, reader, it was all an elaborate con. I’m not really a violent man, but I had to show agression. What, also, were to happen had they called my bluff, turned around and said “Yeah, what?”

Thankfully, they paniced more than I, perhaps not really expecting anybody at home. As they scalped themselves diving headfirst out of the window, I chased them out onto the street in my undies.

Since then, I’ve had a bike stolen – twice. The lastest was my pride and joy, the Cannondale carbon leftie. All this has culminated in another attempted break in last week where somebody had tried to wedge a tool of some description behind the handle of my front door.

Each successive time I am intruded upon, I improve my security. Right now, I have a high quality alarm. I’ve rebuild all my security doors. I’ve got double glazing ALL around, including new doors. I’ve bricked up my window of my garage and replaced the door with a security door. I’ve rebuilt my gate into a secure version, together with anit-pigeon nails. We’ve done our driveway, opened it up and fitted security lights all around.

I wrote to my Borough Commander, the Chief Superintendant of my borough. I explained how despondant I was and that I no longer wanted visits from community support officers telling me of ways to improve my security. Enough! I claimed, no more onus on me – what are the Police to do about this? How will they demonstrate the protection we need from them?

After two months, I received a reply. Except, it wasn’t from him. It wasn’t even pp’ed. It was a generic letter written to me from a staffer, apologising and telling me, exactly as would a politician, that they try the best they can with resources they have and have a happy life thanks goodbye.

In fact, I hadn’t finished reading the letter before it hit the bottom of my bin. Pathetic.

I’ve recently been arguing with my local station about what they will do about this. Again, I’m called by ‘Community Support Officers’ and ‘Victims Support’ call centres. I don’t fucking want consolation, I also don’t want rehab nor do I want any other stupid, fucking leftist concept of crime prevention in my life. It’s making me screwy mad. The two intruders are KNOWN to the police – they have DNA samples and fingerprints from my home. They KNOW where they live!! They know they’re out, right now, committing a crime somewhere yet they can do fuck all.

I had a the station sergeant ring me and tell me not to bother going into the station as I’d be told the same thing – there’s nothing else that can be done for me. I yell and shout, I get angry, I get vexxed. I’m told that they simply do not have the police resources to do the job they want. I cry ‘foul’ – bollox. It’s simply untrue, so I unwind onto them……

Back in May sometime, my wife ‘allegedly’ clipped the wingmirror of a parked car. Disputes followed, in the end I paid up the £250.00 for a new wing mirror and left it at that. She has since received a court summons form the Crime Prosecution Service for (1) driving without due care and attention and (2) failing to stop at a scene of an accident. I kid you not. Would somebody on planet sanity please explain to me how this can be of ANY benefit to the tax payer? We’re ushered into court where the bloke in front is let go with a £200 fine for driving over the weight limit in his lorry, without insurance. Why doesn’t he have insurance? Because he has no license. Why not? Because he’s an asylum seeker.

I went out Monday night as you may have read. I was flashed by a camera three times and I was stopped by police three times on the way home.

How on earth can they claim that they have no resources when it’s quite clear that the decent, law abiding, tax paying responsible citizens of this country are penalised for simply being citizens??

Something bad is going to happen. Either I’m going to take the law into my own hands and mash the head of an intruder in with a 6 cell Maglite torch, leading to my arrest, loss of business, loss of income, etc, etc. Or, the police will find me in a pool of blood with one of my own kitchen knives embedded kindly into my chest. The press will then get a hold of this story and discover that I’d been pleading with the police to do something about it, to appropriate their spending into areas that PROTECT those that are responsible, not persecute.

Thank you very much labour, you’ve fucked and sodomised this country into the next decade. As I sit here at 12am, I await my fate with the prospect of three fines arriving at my doormat over the next few weeks. Nick Griffin isn’t a very nice man. In fact, he didn’t really appear to be an intelligent man. But he’s sitting in a golden opportunity as he offers the people of UK a right wing view of England that is almost utopian in comparison to the liberal ideals of the 21st century. It really is no wonder that he’s gaining voters and unless a respectable party wisens up to the problems of the man on the street, then those gaps are going to increase.

In Jurassic Park, they recreated a dinosaur from a DNA sample. Is it possible to do that with Maggie?

GT3 is proving to be as predictably good as ever. Just approaching 1000 miles now, the sound is fabulous, speed is pretty feroucious and handling and grip is phenomenal. You really have to be quite violent to shake it. However, steel discs are starting to show signs of warping, I really hope that isn’t the case. Will be dropping into Porsche Reading to investigate.

Regardless, it wasn’t long before a dry line appeared on track and as traffic increased, so did traction, allowing me to further push the GT3 into the farthest reaches of our universe. I’m near on 500 miles with the new GT3, but I can really start to feel the increase in power – not as an absolute, but the minor changes to the map making an overall improvement throughout the whole rev-range. With an unnamed friend in his Nissan GTR (warranty blah blah) acting as reference, I was quite expecting to be left behind, only making time up on the straights. But it didn’t quite pan out that way with a frentic number of sessions consisting of nose to tail action, cementing the fact that the new 3.8 is more than a match for the massively fast GTR.

A forever changing cat and mouse game, the GTR would make progress on the two straights of Snetterton, but the light weight nature of the GT3 made a killing under hard braking and sharp turns. Again the Nissan would take large chunks out of the GT3 from some of the very tight chicane exits, where its four wheel drive would aid exit traction when I’d be crossing my arms trying to keep the car straight (which has been immense fun!).

Where are the improvements? Well, the overall speed of the car is a minor, but noticable difference. There’s also a better connection between steering wheel and front wheels under hard acceleration and turn. I always used to notice a lack of gravity up front as though the steering was searching for some feedback, in vain. That appears to be remedied with some real proper feedback, including less understeer and better communication. But the most significant improvement has to be in its aerodynamics. Hard braking in the Gen1 used to be hugely amusing with sweepstakes trying to determine the direction the car would take – quite often at the point where your braking pressure is at the maximum point before the ABS cuts in. I remember quite clearly in the Gen1 at the huge long straight at Snetterton (Revett straight) you’d be coming down from 140MPH really hard on the brakes, perhaps harder than any other circuit – and the car would jitter and swerve all over. The deep front dam and the exagerated spoiler seem to have given the car impressive road holding that has ultimately aided its on-limit stability.

So, not a huge amount of differences. I have to ask my dealer if I actually got my dynamic engine mounts, because frankly I can’t feel any difference and I’d be mighty pissed off if I’d been sold a marketing gimmick that had no functional value. It’s still a ridiculous car and there really is nothing like it. It’s supremely quick now for a 3.8 normally aspirated car and still retains that unique nibleness and litheness that makes it the envy of cars with twice its horsepower.

Just a word, meanwhile, to the people on trackdays who seem to think it’s OK to piss fuel/oil all over the circuit and remain on the racing line while plumes of smoke destroy your chances of credibility. I know sometimes ‘things’ happen that are outside of your control, but please for the love of god use some common sense.

It’s proper quick. There’s an added sense of urgency now, low down. I remember a slight latency at low revs, but that appears vanquished as the car offers a typically relentless banshee howl. And what a screamer. I’m positive this car is louder, it’s certainly more vocal and I’m really digging the opportunities to bounce sound waves off of low walls.

It also appears, unless I’m mistaken, that Porsche have placed the engine back into the front. That sense of disconnectivity the car had with the road in the first gen GT3 when hard accelerating and turning has all but evaporated, with a real added feeling of weight way up front. Real confidence inspiring stuff.

Snetterton booked for this weekend coming, although not sure I’m going to have a geo set up in time. I’m curious to see how these dynamic engine mounts are on track. And why the hell can’t I play video on my TFT??

I originally expected this car to be ready for pick up sometime yesterday. It’s amazing how much of a drama queen you become when that estimate doesn’t become firm reality. However, pretty sure it was due to happen today, so I took a day off in anticipation.

8.03 am the photos of the car started to trickle in to my mobile phone from the dealer, with the car having just been unloaded from Germany. Generally, a Porsche dealer needs about 3 days to do a full and thorough PDI on a new car. Mine was completed in about 6 hours and they did a sterling job – no doubt a driving factor was my incessant communications trying to establish where exactly the car is!

My initial thoughts after driving about 150 miles (most of which were admittedly horrible motorway miles) are a little surprising. Can I say “The same, but better” without appearing to recite from the Book of Cliches? It’s very very close in character to the original car. The main big area of change is in the aesthetic. Considering we’re taking about an evolved Porsche, that may come across as an oxymoron, but for someone who’s lived with GT3′s for a collection of about 4 years, these are big changes.

That spoiler is the money shot. It’s big and bold without being at the expense of cohesion, there’s no indication that this may well be an aftermarket bolt on option as often the RS models appear to be. The added height and size does make a minor difference to rear-view visibility, but I saw that as a bonus as it hides many of the flashing headlights I seem to acquire shortly after overtaking someone…

The wheels are also spectacular in form and function. The single bolt effect has 2 benefits, one being lighter rotating masses and second being a fast wheel swap, great for trackday tyre swaps. Looking down from above the wheel, the blades have a protuding style that makes them look big. Coupled with the gun metal finish, they look fabulous as a contrast to the red. And what a red. I’d not have thought that guards red would look so fresh, but somehow this GT3 gives it a new lease of life and today it looked vibrant and alive in the sun of our indian summer here in UK.

The daytime running lights give it an air of quality as some of the Audi’s often do. They are LED’s, as are the excellently designed rear clusters, and do a brilliant job of announcing the car as a ‘different’ 911. The main xenon’s are so powerful that they annoyed the hell out of my fellow GT3 driver who I drove up the M1 with today. On full beam they practically wake the birds at night from their peaceful slumber.

Otherwise, apart from the added vent in front of the bonnet, deeper, longer front skirt and reshaped rear bumper, it’s business as usual with the classic 911 tear drop given added menace from an emphasised addition of wings and aerodynamics.

Inside, things are familiar and despite the new PCM3 (sat nav and comms), everything else is predictably Porsche. There is no design in the interior as you’d find in an R8 or an Aston Martin, but the layout of the switchgear is usable and easy to find. They’ve removed a lot of the buttons from gen 1 as the interface is now touchscreen. Coupled with my iPod connection option and the telephone bluetooth module, my iPhone now sits tucked away in the glove box with all my functions available either from the PCM screen or my stalk. The interface is well designed, easy to use and is fast processing too. There were no delays in browsing music or indeed navigating the awesome touch screen sat nav which has a fantastic POI integrated too. With my telephone module I was also able to utilise live, dynamic traffic reports on the fly.

Club sport, light weight buckets are business as normal with the only difference being that they didn’t creak anymore like my old ones! A minor problem with carbon fibre seats. The steering wheel has changed, it’s not very pretty to be honest, but the size is good and with fresh alcantara, felt very comfortable in my hands.

How does it drive? Well, the cars come ready run in on bench dyno’s so the car is good to go, despite some prudence required to run in gearbox, clutch etc. As the new starter motor quickly chirped over, the first thing I noticed was how much smoother the gearbox was with the gearstick moving effortlessly into it’s pockets with satisfying clunks, unlike the gen 1 which had a tendancy to grumble a little – especially from cold.

Power is certainly noticable, mostly in the mid to high range there’s a sense of added urge. It’s still a brand new car so despite the obvious tightness of components, there’s definitely a nice power improvement, at least you can feel the extra 20bhp. Not sure most people would, but having spent 2.5 years with a gen 1, it was nice to see a subtle increase to power without compromise to balance.

The exhaust appeared to be a lot more vocal than before too – I assume a result of managed airflow. It’s louder, no doubt, even at idle, and strangely enough, with the windows open, there seemed to be a lot more driver focused noise. It’s great to hear and the provision of the sport button allows this noise to be modulated.

Brakes were superb on the road. They made for difficult heel and toeing, but this might be because of an elevated pedal height due to brand new pads. On heavy braking, heel and toeing is much easier as you’re pressing the brake pedal much harder. The feel was great, with a touch of the brake pedal returning an appropriate response with feel modulated all the way down to the stoppers. At the moment, I’m happy to have not opted for the PCCB’s as the steel’s have proven excellent on road. How they perform on track is a different matter but I fear they may melt into oblivion.

Suspension too is even better sorted. There’s a feeling of utter compliance and it appears to be a little better than the gen 1 at soaking up undulations and changes to road surface. Whether this is an actual revision or an effect of placebo is unknown. The front ARB is from the GT2 which now has adjustable settings. This will be explored soon, together with a better track day geometry and suspension set up.

Didn’t get an opportunity to play about with the stability control. There were 2-3 eerie moments today when it appeared there was some over zealous control of the traction with power appearing to be cut down on slow speed bends. The old car would not have needed traction control at these points so I’m wondering if it’s because the tyres are still new. I hope that this sorts itself out otherwise the installment of the new stability control will be switched off by me.

All in all, an accomplished car that is pretty much identical to the previous car it replaces, but with a whole catalogue of very small changes. There’s a sense of tightness with the car, a lack of any slack, that allows you to extend on its immense repertoir of capabilities knowing full well that there is a clear line of communication between car and driver that is always vibrant and energetic. In my opinion, the original 997 GT3 was a perfect car. To elaborate and improve on so many areas has led to the development of a car that is yet again without peer.

I have a couple of trackdays booked, that’s when I’ll test out the new dynamic engine mounts. Can’t wait.

At some point today, it’ll be ready to pick up. I think I’ll just head down to the dealer today and lick the window all day.

Frankfurt show was huge and I must have walked at least 10 miles today, glad to have got off the plane and into home. Some truly spectacular stages were set, especially the BMW stage with its elevated circuit across the stages. Some fantastic design and use of video and audio created a wonderful motorshow experience. Some of these sets must have cost in excess of multiple millions, it shows that the car industry is not quite knocked out yet and showed how important the German market is.

Porsche GT3 RS was fabulous. In the flesh it’s looking the proper tool of function we’ve come to expect from Porsche, as you use a hammer to drive a nail in, so you use a GT3 to best circuits with. Previously, the GT3 was good enough, but this new iteration has a wealth of differences between cooking vanilla GT3 and RS to warrant my interest. I’ve got a first place position and cannot wait.
Colour is interesting, it’s called ‘Black Grey’ and is one of the four options. However, it HAS been confirmed that there WILL be colour to sample, which means a variety of different colour options. However, these will not be offered before early summertime 2010. LHD deliveries are expected to start November / December with RHD UK deliveries due February time.
The good: That spoiler is a work of art.
The bad: The cloth door pulls are really wrong.
The ugly: Clashing colour schemes?

Panamera had the most ridiculously big brakes.

Ferrari 458 looks much better up close and personal with some dramatically futuristic design cues. Very angular, very sharp – it’s a future proof design, but often they’re the kind that age quickest.

New BMW 7 series looked fantastic in white. Really loved that car and a proper highlight.

Batman: AA is actually a book tie in, one I’ve had for many many years – it’s actually one of my favourite books. I was quite pleased to see the game adopt some of the more adult qualities from the book. The graphic novel still remains one of the most violent comic depictions of Batman and the game similarly takes its cues from the more dark characteristics of batman, rather than the camp.

There are two great aspects to this game. Apart from the fantastic use of some key, Batman technology, the combat scenes and the hunter/hunted scenes are some of the most absorbing to date. Swooping down on an inmate, dragging him and tieing him to a gargoyle before any of his friends notice is hugely satisfying. When you’ve got 8 guards to dispatch, you can sometimes spend up to a good 30 minutes patiently dispensing of them, one by one, each method becoming even more elaborate than the last. In contrast, if you want a plain old punch up (not recommended for armed assailants) then the combo system is brilliant, each successful attack adding to a multiplier than increases your effectiveness and strikes each time.

Replay value as yet unknown – I’ve completed it and will no doubt revisit it for its challenge mode, but otherwise a pretty good PS3 basher for short term love.

It follows a documentary style reportage of aliens occupying a sector within South Africa as immigrants. Malnourished and underfed, there are stark contrasts between the way humans treat aliens (of both indigenous and extra terrrestrial types) and how they are treated simply as science projects and research material.

The film follows the plight of Sharlto Copley as Wikus van de Merwe, an out of depth senior representative of UN equivelent organisation. Tasked with relocating these aliens to a camp of questionable origin, using questionable illegal methods, Wikus finds himself infected with some sort of biological substance that starts to affect his genetic make-up. Suffice to say, what follows is a transformation, not only of physicality, but of stance and opinion, turning Wikus into an important Mandela’esque figure head.

The special effects are simply stunning, the action scenes are out of this world and acting, bar some wooden, token, meat head soldier roles, is exemplaray. I’ve read that Wikus’ entire dialogue is improvised. The unknown cast are superb and the South African taint adds a strangely believable ambience to an otherwise unbelivable settings.

I can see why Peter Jackson took Blomkamp under his wing!

Thoroughly recommended, go and see it on the big screen.

Containing many ‘wtf’ scenes as Tarantino often likes to splash into a screen, the defining element of Tarantino film is dialogue – and boy does he deliver. I found some of the most fantastic, tense, scenes of dialogue on this movie that had me biting my nails and grinding my teeth in suspense. Christopher Waltz as Col. Hans Landa is unquestionably one of the finest cinema characters of recent times.
His ability to juggle comedy with terror is unmatched and the movie is justified simply by watching him alone.

But as with everything in life, there are some flaws. For some reason, it was like a barmitzva in the cinema and every nazi killing was greeted with fanboy applause. In addition, the ending was a bit of a copout with some typically Tarantino ending. Otherwise, please please please check out the two femme fatales, they are simply delicious as both the cinema owner and the German actress.

Regardless, a quality Iraq piece dismissing the token pretences of political righteousness in favour of a pleasing dramatisation of contrasting attitudes of soldiers who revel and shrink in equal measure in times of war and danger. Displaying the typical Amerikkaa!! gung ho mentality beautifully demonstrated by Watchmen’s ‘Comedian’, the adrenaline of intense danger is as powerful a toxin as any drug could be. Conversely we see the effects of war on those not suited to the environment. What follows is a pretty dramatic enactment of daily life in barracks. Most notable is the sniper section – not sure how realistic that was, but can certainly testify to the intensity of the scene!

Sanity is still fighting with emotion, but for the first time in many years, the RS appears to inherit all the characteristics of the GT3 but with a key number of added wow’s.

Not an exclusive list, but:
Short ratio, short shift gearbox
15bhp +
Titanium exhaust
Wider front track
RS specific PASM suspension
Bigger wheels
Dynamic engine mounts as standard

As for looks, opinions are divided. At first I was bewildered by the choices afforded, but time has been sympathetic and now I want one pretty badly.

I’ve rang pretty much every dealer in the country and the order books are already filled. My dealer says he can get me one – but I’m looking at 5th place in the queue there. I guess it serves me right for not acting quickly when I had the chance!!

New YouTube version (I think I’m gonna migrate to YouTube all my vids)

Great article in Evo a month or two back where Henry Catchpole wrote:
The ‘So what’s your favourite car, then?’ question is tricky. I get asked it a lot. It’s a staple query from random, well-meaning people at christenings and engagement parties, most of whom like watching Clarkson & Co on Sunday evenings. I used to launch into a small speech about why it’s simply impossible to pick a favourite and how you need a big barn with at least ten parking spaces so that there’s room for a car for every situation. Five minutes later, just as I’d be explaining why an F40 is not really a choice but a necessity, I’d realise that their eyes had glazed over – they didn’t like cars that much and this wasn’t the quick, satisfactory answer they wanted.
Then I drove a GT3. I still maintain the ten-car principle, but now I always say that if I won the lottery I would walk straight out the next day and buy a 911 GT3

Evo Magazine Review of GT3

I concur old boy, I concur.

Regardless, I must go on. This car is MINT guys, you will not find a cleaner example at this price.
so….

In anticipation of my new arrival due end of September, I am now putting up for sale the best car I’ve ever owned.
Most of you know this car, but for those that don’t:

• 997 GT3
• White
• Club Sport spec
• Carbon bucket race seats
• Red belts
• Drivers and passengers harnesses
• Centre console painted in white
• Bi-Xenon lighting system
• Porsche Communication Management (PCM) including navigation module
• Sound Package Plus incl. CD storage box
• Carbon kick plates
• Porsche floor mats
• Wheel centre set
• Windscreen with grey top tint

Brakes
FRONT: PF Discs and pads on front (over 75% life left)
REAR: OE discs and RS29 pads (over 75% life left)
18,500 miles
Remainer of extended Official Porsche Warranty (8 months)

Full Porsche Service History

In addition to this, there’s a suitcase full of receipts, some I’m proud of, some I don’t like looking at! They represent the level of care that has gone into this car.

It’s just had another service at FearnSport, supplementary to service schedule requirements.
The car has also recently had a non-essential gearbox oil change. RMS was done recently under warranty and has been replaced by the now indestructable metal piece. All GT3′s will need this at some point.

It has gone through it’s entire life with vinyl protection (this has been replaced fully once a year). The front skirt is brand new and the front bumper is resprayed (as all OPC cars are).

Wheels do not have a SINGLE mark on them, no kerbed alloys.

This is a car that looks and feels like it has just come out of the showroom and needs not a penny spending on it. Matt at Fearnsport has brough this car to new condition and I daren’t see it in case I drive it again. It’s even got a brand new windscreen dammit!

Price to release car is £65k. No further offers as I have committed considerable spend on the car recently to ensure it’s showroom fresh. It has literally cost me thousands.

Inspections welcome. It’s currently sat at Fearnsport and will remain there until it’s sold.

For some of my more memorable exploits with this car, you can read here:

why-the-997-gt3-is-the-best-car-ive-ever-owned

1000-miles-and-my-honeymoon-period-is-over

200mph-the-world-sideways-and-conquered-fear

monza

Now, a while later, the clip (that was never actually meant to be shown!) is available to download and view in beautiful HD. I’ve watched this 2m 57s clip about 20 times now in the past two days and I am still hungry for more. There is a pretty cool viral campaign that has gone on in the background for a while, right up to the launch of a replica Flynn’s arcade shop.

Some great articles here on this blog, together with download links to a high resolution HD Quicktime versions of the movie.

http://tronfaq.blogspot.com/

We eventually found an awesome spot in the back of the Tesco’s distribution centre. However, the shelf stacker got an opportunity to demonstrate some authority and had us out of there too. Essentially, the whole night was a failure. Even Guy was pulled over by the local police, not for breaking the law but simply because they were curious about ‘whether this was the new GTR?’.

Despite the lack of success throughout the night, as each minute passed I became more enamoured by the sheer presence of Guy’s GTR in the night roads. I had the same feeling watching the car cruise in the midnight light, with it’s rear LED’s, as I felt when I used to watch Knight Rider as a child. There’s this sense of scale and competence that was quite overpowering. I couldn’t help but follow in it’s shadow as it’s rear lights painted red lines across the evening landscape.

Photos were scarce, but here’s one for kicks.

Computer games have a horrible habit of portraying computer generated lead female characters as anime porn stars and apparently, we males are not happy playing said games unless we have a wave of CGI tits flashed in our faces and tight, g-string underwear doubling up as anal floss glamourised simply because we males need such frivolous titilation.

Transformers is just as guilty with every single shot of Fox a demonstration of her symbolic stature representing the pinnacle of what Holywood has to offer. How does she continue to pout with the deepest layers of lip gloss after having run 5 miles across an Egyptian desert? Why do I have to keep watching her breasts bouncing in sl0-mo as she runs through said deserts? I’m not 12! Please, stop it!

Right, rant over…

Transformers is the CGI fest of the decade. I watched this at the IMAX cinema and unfortunately, it was simply too much for my retinas to take on board. It’s like being locked out of a concert. You can hear the music and you know there’s a kick-ass gig going on, but you just can’t get in. Likewise with the movie, I’m sure it was amazing, but I came out of the cinema with a crooked neck, cross eyes and a brain that had swollen to the size of a small car.

From what I did see, there were some fabulous moments of creative genius, with CGI giant robots blending into the scenery as believably as the carpets were sticky. (they were, wtf was up with that?). All the robots have truly transformed into characters have are shaped by their actions and sacrifices and despite a poor storyline, the script was just a conduit for serious, OTT monster bashing, and that was just awesome. Megatron and Starscream again get away just in time to complete a trilogy, but I’ve no doubt Transformers 2 will become the home cinema bluray disc of choice.

T:S is awesome. It’s the post-apocalyptic, doom-mongering, sci-fi, chase movie of the year. McG has done a fantastic job of injecting the ‘contemporary’ terminator models with the same level of malevolence and fear that we remembered from the original Terminator movie. Bale rocks as Connor, the young Kyle Reece is goddamn awesome and somehow has exactly the same voice tone/dialect that Michael Bhein had so many years ago.

It’s a clever action flick, combining all elements of Terminator lore into a non-stop hardcore metal to metal mash-em-up that had me wooing and cooing at each and every adrenaline filled scene. The SFX is unquestionably amongst the best I’ve ever seen, including Transformers 2.

There’s also one scene that practically made me poop and wee my pants – it’s so utterly cool but to disclose it now would class as a massive movie spoiler, so please, go and see this.

Today I attended the special GT3 preview event which discussed the results of the survey and also went onto disclose a whole host of detailed information about the next gen. GT3. This was coupled with breakfast, a number of hotlaps in a 997S, skid pan, wet plate in a Cayman S and also an ‘ice-hill’. All hugely fun and the best memory is of the 997S. It was a manual with the GT3 carbon bucket seats and was a real revelation. It’s all the car anyone would ever need really and with Carrera S’s in the £30k’s now, they are a far more attractive alternative to the Caymans. Also drove the PDK in the Cayman today and boy that was weird. Not sure if it simply wasn’t suited to the Cayman S (perhaps not enough power?) but the whole set up wasn’t attractive to me.

As for the colour debate, I’m almost positively kind of sure now that Guards Red is the colour to go for. With the harsh, motorshow spotlights absent, the car was at last shown in a normal light and really did look excellent. That spoiler is the best looking spoiler I’ve ever seen and the small subtle changes work really well, such as the change in wheel design.

Andreas Preuninger, 997 GT3 and RS project manager was there to answer some questions and teamed with the rest of the organisers, really did put on an informative, entertaining day out. He also leaked out some information about the forthcoming Gen 2 (Mk2) GT3 RS:

• More power (14BHP more)
• RSR Front suspension
• Titanium components (Exhaust)
• Wider front track
• ‘Stealth look’ colour schemes – not so brash or loud this time
• Hinted at string door pulls
• New decal scheme
• Shorter gear ratio’s
• £15k – £20k price premium over vanilla GT3
• October unveil, February production
• Frankfurt Motorshow unveil.

All in all, enough to warrant a premium this time over the normal GT3. It appeared the heaviest criticism levied on Andreas’ team was the fact that there was not enough differentiation between the two models to justify the premium. I’m almost tempted to transfer my deposit. Almost….

Now, I’m all in a kerfuffle as I’ve seen another option, Riviera Blue (yeah thanks Glenn). It’s a shocker, for sure. But it does hark back to a time where Porsche’s came in all manner of inappropriate colours. What do you guys think? The wife thinks it’s hideous and called it a bubble-gum car.

EDIT – First two pictures directly below are from another source and allegedly a more accurate representation of the colour.(Thanks Alex)

Images below courtesy SportAuto (German Car Mag)