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STOP PRESS: 

Miley Cyrus to play Snow White 

 at the Whitby Pavilion Theatre

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Wishing You All 

Much Merriment 

for 

Christmas 

 & 

The New Year

(let's face it - we need it ...) 

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Renault Clio IV

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So ... pretty much the first time I'm able to see the new car in daylight & here's a picture (suitably cropped to exclude the licence plate which has - sadly - neither an F nor a Z in it. You can't have everything).

Given I have read many reviews of this car before ordering it & since - some of which were useful & others downright misleading - here are my thoughts having driven it for two days. (I'll plagiarise the typical car mag categories). You never know someone might happen by & appreciate another opinion - while certain friends & family might be amused at me (of all people) showing an interest in cars. 

Exterior

I saw this car first in the much-hyped 'Flame Red' along the road from E's piano teacher & it was undeniably eye-catching. I'd never noticed a car with the concealed rear door handle - not that I had noticed much about cars full stop. Neat (& intriguing). I also admired the overall design - the 'sculpted' claims of the brochure are not too far-fetched. Talking things over with the dealer, we reckoned that the full-on red would be a little too mid-life crisis, the yellow & blue better for the South of France, while the black looks great in the showroom but gets dirty the moment it's on the road. Therefore ... good old sober & restrained middle-age grey ("Gris Cassiopeia" sounds so much more enchanting don't you think?).

The hub cap mystery is partially solved - for some reason the factory decided to put on Paradis 15" that belong to the Clio IV Estate rather than the standard Expression options. A bit different & for no extra cost - fine by me. The chrome 'flash' is a surprise - by my reckoning this would have required a further 200 euros as a 'personalisation' choice. Someone was feeling generous over there in Flins. 

At the front you get the big diamond logo (which I like) & the thin beads of LED daylights which give a certain style in addition to security (good combination) while the back is squat & predatory with the small rear window. 

I reckon it looks bloody good. 

Interior

When I took one out on a test drive back in October, I wasn't so impressed with the glossy black door panels & trims. Again, in the catalogue being modelled by glamorous young Parisians it all looks rather chic whereas I have to think more in terms of grubby little fingers, half-eaten sweets & school bags. The sheen would disappear pretty quick. Thus, standard Expression option interior - matt grey - & I don't regret it at all. (To be honest, the higher spec Dynamique tips towards bling.) I bought some Clio mats yesterday & they give it all a lift. So save yourself 500 euros (or more) & play it simple. Less is more, etc.. The seats - also standard - are fine & more stylish & comfortable than photographs suggest. Again, the colour options look tempting but would wear badly I fear. 

I did opt for a leather steering wheel (the basic plastic one looked ugly). It was a good choice - this wheel feels good to the hands, is pleasing to the eye & the black gloss fill is just enough to liven things up. 

Knobs & things

Everything seems to work (hooray!) but I do notice a certain plasticky quality (but then what do you expect - it's not a Bentley). Electric windows require continuous push, the indicator feels a bit stiff but does have a nifty one tap for overtaking. Heating/air conditioning is pretty much standard issue - and efficient. What for some might be a fault for me is a plus: it's all very simple & minimal. 

Music (the really important stuff)

No CD player seemed a major drawback at first & then I realised that you can connect an iPod or use a USB stick. Yes, it means a bit of a hassle transferring files but it does save CD boxes jammed in the door pockets. Sound quality is very good - I don't care what some people are saying about "barely adequate". I've been playing Zappa's 'Guitar' at mid volume & there's no need to go higher. The 'bass reflex' system works for me. 

It's all housed in a central console (again - simple, minimal) & works like an iPad by touch screen. Within the options there's also the Sat Nav which is much better than some reviews suggest. The mobile phone link is fun rather than essential for me - I don't make calls much. The Bluetooth connection is reliable & seems to connect pretty quickly when you get back in. Of course, there's the upmarket option of R-Link but I can't think why I'd be e-mailing or using Apps in a car. Surely you're meant to watch what's on the road ...

The money that might have gone into the decor I put into the Europe maps for the Sat Nav (here in Belgium you just get Benelux). 

Driving

It purrs ... a really nice throaty kind of engine sound. It feels so much more car-like (for want of a better word) than the C3. The much-talked about TCe 3-cylinder petrol engine is more than adequate for what I want - it accelerates well away from the lights & on the Ring was hitting 120 km/h with ease. Again, I don't know why there are some snide comments from reviewers. I can't speak about fuel consumption yet - but I'm sure it will be superior to what I've been used to & it's about as eco-friendly as you can manage short of a hybrid or electric car. Handling, torque, under or over-steer I leave to the petrol heads. Put it this way, the Clio feels good to drive. Correction: really good. 

Yes, reversing is a bit of an issue - the price paid for the stylish design means the back window and moulding give limited visibility. The solution - aside from looking even more carefully - is the extra reversing alert. Money well-spent.

Final verdict 

I love it. Frankly I never thought I would ever own or drive such a thing. For me the combination of the design & performance are just right. Cheaper & you'd notice it. More expensive & I think I'd feel embarrassed. I don't really approve of cars (an issue going right back to my twenties) but I'll make a real exception in this case - much as I did with the Citroen C3 of ten years ago. Laurens van den Acker has done a good job in shaping these bits of metal. Of its kind, it is a sculpture. Five stars then from me. 

A red letter day.

The car has been delivered - a good week or so earlier than anticipated. Saint Nicolas must think I have been a good boy (despite everything).

I can see the Clio parked outside the garage as I say good bye to the old Citroen. Immediately I notice that the side panel has the chrome flash (not ordered) and wheels that are far from the brochure standard issue (also not ordered). A mistake? No, le garagiste confirms that's yours - and even better than I'd imagined. Extraordinary. If it wasn't so dark I'd attach a photo but as it is that will have to wait until tomorrow.

To say I am as pleased as Punch is an understatement.

Va-va-voom!

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2/xii/2013

 

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Sunday morning asemics

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As Roland Barthes might say, here it is not only the juxtaposition of structures and materials (cathedral architecture/car/tree; stone/metal/vegetable) but also the cumulative metonymy (cobbled street, bistro 'au coin', tables & chairs, the light shining through the door pane, carte des vins = Paris) that fascinates. 

In short, just about everything is right with the image except that ... I am not there ... 

Not one to usually give a damn about cars - beyond 1) it goes, 2) the CD player works - the past two months have been uncharacteristically Top Gearish. I have been paying undue attention to such things as hub caps, chrome side finishes, metallic (or not) paint options. The reason? Answer: the not too distant (I hope) arrival of the new car.

Related to this has been a lottery-style calculation of the current licence plate series. (Due to Belgian law, my old plates will have to be surrendered for the new European issue). Right now we're at 1 - FXL ... & I was working out the odds of an 'FZ' coinciding with my car being certified as road worthy. Pathetic, I know, but it passes the time staring out the window at the procession of traffic as students grapple with their essays.

However ... what do I discover but due to some obscure bureaucratic decision after 1 - FX ... the series will skip to 1 - GAA ... . What!? No 1 - FY ... or 1 - FZ ... ! Why?

So bang goes my chance of a Zappa-related plate (unless by some weird twist I end up with the 1- FXZ ... due next Tuesday, which wouldn't be bad).

Have I lost all sense of proportion? Or is this a form of lettrist mania/ arcane alphabetic superstition?

I'll let you know which combination turns up.

Watched Lift to the Scaffold again after many years & notice this time around the role of cars : Tavernier's convertible, the German tourist's sports model & the Renault Dauphine Jeanne Moreau drives.

The closing scene remains as stunning as ever, the gradual development of the crucial photograph (& its subsequent disappearance through overexposure).*

Last week it occurred to me how photographs are changing. The ubiquitous teenage BFF snap with an iPhone or Touch (bunny ears, V sign, funny face which are now standard for the genre - hold up the iPhone, put our heads together, make a face, snap! Giggle.)

More significant (disturbing?) is this way of looking into the camera which already anticipates the result - a kind of boomerang effect. Gone is the uncertainty of lens/film/exposure/developer and the delay (trip to the Chemist, SAE to the lab, etc). Or that late Victorian kind of pose where one sat for posterity). Now the moment returns immediately, the pose is always-already taken. In a sense, each snap fulfils a pre-established image & is forgotten as quickly. Send/ delete/ ...

Whereas, watching Moreau, the close ups, the sheer astonishment occasioned by this face - how little of it would survive today's pixilated encoding.

______

* a pedantic objection (or fascinating alternative reading) to the final scene: who is the 'third' who took the compromising pictures of Tavernier & his mistress? Someone else was in on the secret - the tiny camera was surely not able to manage time delay shooting?

o

(Reading left to right) My uncle, an unknown little girl, my paternal grandfather (who I never knew), an unknown older boy, my Dad.

The date? 1939? (I'm guessing). 

The occasion? A Sunday walk along the cliff tops? Portland? 

These (& other) questions. 

Rumour has it, Belgian car licence plates FVZ were issued today. Given my new car is meant to arrive in a month, is it too much to hope I might just get one? No idea of the odds.

"In my religion all believers would stop work at sundown and have a drink together 'pour chaser la honte du jour'. This would be taken in remembrance of the first sunset when man must have thought the oncoming night would prove eternal, and in honour of the gift of wine to Noah as a relief from the abysmal boredom of the brave new world after the flood. Hence the institution of my 'Sundowner' with which all believers, whether acquainted or not, would render holy that moment of nostalgia and evening apprehension. Brevis hic est fructus homullis. In my religion there would be no exclusive doctrine; all would be love, poetry and doubt. Life would be sacred, because it is all we have and death, our common denominator, the fountain of consideration. The Cycle of the Seasons would be rhythmically celebrated together with the Seven Ages of Man, his Identity with all living things, his glorious Reason and his sacred Instinctual Drives." (Cyril Connolly, The Unquiet Grave)

Plucked Enemies of Promise from the shelf in passing which, in turn, sent me back upstairs to find this volume. One of those you keep going back to.

This morning I sat eating breakfast on my own (the girls still abed) my yoghurt accompanied by Samuel Barber's Agnus Dei unscrambling its digital bits across the choppy Channel from Broadcasting House. One of those 'moments': unaccustomed calm, sunlight, smoke lifting off chimney pots, steam from my cup of tea. Monday rhymes.

On days such as these I wonder what I might achieve ... that teasing sense of opening, a pause, a beginning to draw a circle in which ... knowing tomorrow it will all dissolve. & so we lurch on ...