The Plater's Blog - a "Weapons Grade" Mercedes and some dodgy running lights

Here's another great column from Mike Trowsdale, serial 'Plater' and driver of many, many new cars.

“Weapons grade” has to be the new “awesome”. Because “awesome” has become somewhat over used of late and doesn’t really mean “awesome” any more. Now it did 12 years back when a young Canadian lady described a certain Mike T as “awesome” in customer feedback, but I think her brand new Boxster might just have slightly skewed her - North American - perceptions (thank you).

But for now enjoy “weapons grade” for what it actually means, and then step a little further to “weapon”: a Mercedes S600 L is a total, unfettered and absolutely gorgeous weapon of virtuosic brilliance. Technically genius, but, sadly obscenely profligate in the reality of 2013 and leathered/alcantared in a fashion not too far from TOWIE meets Lady Gaga, this is a means of transport that would have been felled by the critical axe of - yes, I dare say it - a younger man. But as a child of the ‘60’s and thus a Teen of the ‘70’s I fell in love with this behemoth in about 3 seconds. I know it’s crazy, but it’s true - sounds like a tune - this bad boy is nicer and easier to drive than any Merc B, C or E I have driven lately. How mad is that? Arguably the steering is a touch over light for some but when you can thread 2.5 tons through the eye of a needle ‘nuff said. And when the horizon is reeled in with more relentless persecution than a tomahawk missile and you still have options on the stereo to consider in - relative - absolute safety, this is totally the real deal.

The last time I thought “crikey” was a Nissan GTR that had been somewhat “enhanced” (700bhp?!) and toe down did 90-130mph in 3 seconds. I kid you not: I hate people straying from the truth. And if it was more than 4 seconds here’s a sharp knife and my procreative addenda. Anyway an S600 is up there, albeit on a totally different plane. You know when you have met the right one and in a post apocalypse - but very curiously, “free” petrol - survival scenario this is the AK47 of choice. Mad Max would have one. I am blessed to have made it’s acquaintance because it is without a doubt a complete - and utterly fantastic - dinosaur with “sadly now extinct” soon to be it’s epitaph. If I ever had to drive blindfold through a jolly thick brick wall I would jump into this car - clad in my hi-vis for obvious h&S reasons - and just do it. Because it would…

Back to life, back to reality and a Citroen C4 diesel auto with a rather comedic - almost toy like - gear shift. Which to be fair I got to like once I figured the “lift to reverse” action. Still not entirely happy with electronic parking brakes - which it also had - they don’t all work the same way and surely slower than a regular handbrake? And you can bet that WRC champs do not flick a switch for a 180…Talking of handbrakes I forgot to mention the Zafira which had me confused and embarassed until I realised the U shaped lever was just a regular “click, up, and release” tool. And anyway, what’s not to like about something that wouldn’t look out of place in Thunderbird 2?

A timely coming together with a Seat Leon on the 13th birthday of Dad’s hand-me-down “2000 W” 1.6 SE. This was a TDi manual and I wasn’t expecting anything more than regular VAG accomplishment. But - very nearly - blown away by the steering/handling. I need to narrow this down: it didn’t understeer as much as I expected. Let’s get to the point - all cars understeer, it’s just a matter of degree. But I actually thought “gosh” and tried to drive it properly (apologies to all other Platers). I know it’s wrong, but “pointy” came to mind. Which can’t be right - I guess it’s all about exceeding expectations…

“Running lights”? My vote goes for the XF - if I have to - with various Audis 2nd and all others a distant third tho’ a distinction must be awarded to the Alfa Giulietta for the rear lights. And a real WTF (?!) for Land Rover/Range Rover front lights: contrived, and, well, stupidly contrived. FWIW makes me think of an owl….and probably about £500 to replace when a large stone/drunk twat dictates replacement. Remember when Volvo first championed them in the ‘70’s without universal acclaim…

Had two Mercs last weekend; an E250 CGi Cab. and an E350 CDi estate. Did some research to discover the E250 was actually a 1.8 (4 cylinder) turbo! I had a hazy recollection of a 2.5 litre “6” from the 60’s/’70’s - which was apparently rubbish - so this was new to me. E250 proficient in a very Merc -slightly dull - style, but the E350 fabulous: a real continent crusher if needs be and if pushed to say choose one car for the rest of your life this would be it. Really: 40mpg+ attainable and a load of space. Not quite as lovingly presented as “ex” would have us believe but nothing a little TLC couldn’t sort.

Another Mini (Cooper) underwhelmed again with fun but very heavy steering. WTF? Its’s power assisted so just crank it up. Oh, and the central dial has to go - bad enough on the original (yes, I had one: ‘66D). And don’t get me started on parallax error…

And so the dream garage to date is an M3 V8, S600 L, “Retromod” ’70 Plymouth Cuda (crate hemi, 600bhp), oh and some kind of economical thing. Perhaps I am the dinosaur. 

Many thanks to Mike. You'll find his previous column here and all of his columns here

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The Plater's Blog - lost keys, turbo-diesels and thrashing a BMW M3

Mike Trowsdale is a plater* and as such gets to drive many and varied cars at short notice. Here are more of his cuttingly incisive, and frequently funny, thoughts on a variety of recent cars.

I would say it could only ever happen in the motor trade, but my qualification from the school of “never did really find a true career path” (Hons) tells me otherwise - this kind of “misinformation error” (f**k up) happens a million times a day.

Colleague rocked up at a certain regular pick up spot in sunny GU15 and requested access to a car via the traditional means of the registration number and vehicular description. Now on this occasion - unusually - hand scribed documentation suggested that the keys were not in the car. No problem - time proven, watertight security procedures were deployed and Plan B triggered: well practised rummaging through the weapons grade, industrial sized margarine tub full of spectacularly poorly labelled keys. Result: two sets of keys, and go find in that general direction. Well, one car responded and it met the “right” description - no worries - and found it’s way the next day to Plymouth. About 100 miles from where it should have been. Apparently some minor detail about the wrong registration…Oops.

Now I just happened to be in the canteen two days later when another Plater announced someone had taken “his” car two days prior and he had been in a spot of bother. Luckily he is a confident lad, and on the day persuaded the controllers to organise his safe journey home. I can see the issue from all (4!) sides, but at the end of the day my Dad was a ‘70’s union rebel so Platers unite! Daft mistake and I hope it’s reconciled - would wipe out a days work if rules are enforced. I can confess to checking I am putting the right fuel (diesel/petrol) into “my” car 3 times before I pull the trigger…tough times.

Back to cars and a sad confession: my sister actually labelled me dull as a young teen when - apparently - I only expressed interest in anything (whatever…) when Dad’s car was reversed out of the garage. Now to be fair it was a Saab 99 2.0L (“NYN 417L” - still around?) in a winning hue of yellow on green, um, kind of nylon stuff. And she didn’t get Status Quo… anyway what’s not to like when Mum’s car (Austin 1300) has 55bhp and Dad’s has got 100?! Fond memories of Stig Blomqvist style heroic understeering pointing way (!) inside the apex - yes aim for that scarecrow - and it will go sufficiently wide on it’s 155’s…it actually was a method of attack recommended by Autocar (or Motor ?). No doubt Pa never tried to tangle with Stig and I only ever cracked a rear light lens - at about 2mph outside a pub in St Albans…

And back then I never thought I could possibly get bored of cars: they somehow defined a rite of passage to being an adult and were just the best thing ever...

But a few (!) years on, getting bored of my diet of Zafiras and Qashqais and in the main turbo diesels: mid range torque might do a mini cabber, but not revving beyond 4,500 without gasping for another Winston is no fun. Give me VVTi, VTEC, Twin Cam, Twin Carb (even SU’s), Six Pack, “442” - gone all Yank - Quattrovalvole, HiPo, Port Injection, Hemi - there we go again - Sprint (Dolly - had one), 16v, 24v, Sti, FQ, GTi, GTE, GTV you name it; just something that suggests might be a bit fun. Ten years on we will wonder what all the “blue” stuff was about (Merc/VAG…). Anyone remember the Polo “Formel E” - a fuel economy special with a jolly tall top (4th!) gear, “spoilers” on the “a” pillars and some kind of stop/start? Probably now a - very - minor classic. And Nissan take Note - VW did that shape on a small car 25 years ago…

And so you wonder if - in the ultimate scheme of things - Plating is a training ground for cabbies? Find/save/steal - the latter not recommended - £1,000 to buy a VAG turbo diesel and do a very similar job without the walking, pack on a couple of stones and earn 2-3 times the money! OK you also need £300 for your PCO licence but it should be a no brainer. But as a Plater your aspirations are way beyond that, or you are OK with your lot for now: time out, less stress (?!), being your own boss (really not..) and all the other stuff they suggest to justify the rather poor money to personally look after £50k-£150k of cars every week.

But all good things come to those who are stupid/savvy enough to wait and mine came in the form of an M3 (E92). Now for the average guy I have been there, driven it: Bugatti EB110 GT? Done it. Dodge Viper? Yep. 458 Italia? Just 200 miles. Countach? Which one? ‘Cuda 440? Owned one. Not the point on this day - I knew the job was a good ‘un (London to Bristol, 120m) and I knew it was a BMW as I had to rendezvous with an Inspector of said Müncheners (the coolest man in the world; company fleece in 80F…). But Plater priorities are job first (miles!), a quick hook up with the next job and all else a distant third (tho’ getting home is always good…). And so I idly passed the time on the tube checking “vehicle details” on my PDA style able assistant and couldn’t have been more pleasantly surprised. Rushed the “appraisal” - inspector had already done the official version - and fired up…”nice”.

Not quite my old ‘Cuda on headers and cherry bombs but a V8 is always to die for and this one absolutely stinks of motorsport provenance . Now the owner had to escort me to the exit to exchange pleasantries with the barrier and so I forcibly submerged into a zone of intense concentration - so non Plater - to avoid the slightest embarrassment; I have driven M3’s before - plus a few other decent steers (did I mention that?) - but I feared my recent diet of mundanity might have blunted my cutting edge as a professional helmsman. 

Luckily “customer” was human and realised I was too and so a bit of chat and clutch slipping saw us right. Job done and - now ex - owner walked away only to about turn and tap on the window. Loose change (unlikely)? Gym membership card? MP3? Err, no - might I please give it a damn good spanking - if safe to do so - through the tunnel to the lights for old times sake. Anti social? Yes. Irresponsible? Arguably. And illegal? Without a doubt (and that’s in 1st). And without question the most unlikely - and fantastic - suggestion someone has ever proffered me about their ex. And as motor trade employees are advised on a crushingly dull and regular basis the customer is always right. 

I digress - I rumbled out of the car park, let a cabbie go by, turned left onto the entirely straight strip of tarmac, got to 10mph, checked everything possible - and impossible - and let rip. DO NOT DO THIS AT HOME!! F***ing awesome and all of the above - I did clock a disapproving/shocked/is the tunnel collapsing (?) face. And if I did just suggest that 8,000rpm+ in a M3 V8 thro’ a tunnel was rather splendid I fear I might be underselling it a tiny bit: I think Apocalyptic is about right. Most definitely filed under “rude not to…” along with 6,000rpm in a Griff 500 thro’ the Hatfield tunnel quite a few years ago. And I suspect rather more than a thin smile played across our customer’s face. Job done.

*Plater - self employed guys armed with "trade plates" that enable them to collect and deliver cars from one place of business to another to grease the wheels of the UK motor trade. Open to all ages, typically from 23-70 the job specification requires a full UK licence (no more than 6 points), a reasonable command of the Queen's English spoken and written, the ability to loosely hang a tie round your neck and a clean - self funded - CRB if you manage to last two months.

Many thanks to Mike. You'll find his previous column here

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Plating - 200 miles in a 458 Italia, a thirsty Focus ST and a 70s Zafira

Mike Trowsdale is a plater* and as such gets to drive many and varied cars at short notice. Here are more of his cuttingly incisive, and frequently funny, thoughts on a variety of recent cars. 

You will never guess this: what does a VW Transporter (TDI 6 speed) have in common with a similar vintage - 3 year old - Cayman S? Well forget all the well documented familial machinations - these two do 70 in top (6/7 gear) at just over 2000rpm. And such is the variety - and boredom stimulated, unfettered brain game challenge - afforded to the motor trade “plater”.

Apologies for there being no real structure to the following but I must download before I forget - platers don’t do notes.

Real genuine surprise of the last two weeks crept up on me over 300 miles: Micra 1.4 5 door auto - now “old shape” - had very nearly the best steering of any of the past 50 motors. Nice weight, proper feel and I found myself comparing it to Ferraris and Porsches. Bear with me on this: I have done 200 miles in a 458 Italia and literally 1000’s in Porsches for reference and - bloody hell - it’s really good! No wonder my Mum won’t give hers up…

Random shorts: Yaris - rubbish turning circle for a “small” car. I have a cunning test at the top of my road and it was no better than our ex Freelander. Nice gearshift tho’, and the quietest, smoothest idle - thought it had “stop/start”. BMW 116d - totally invisible light switches and very stodgy steering - styling tidied up tho’: I had an original “bendy” one as a demo. DS3 - 4 speed auto (?!): my 190E had one of those in ’87. SLK 200 - literally had to wrestle the steering at low speeds. Honestly, stupidly heavy and no fun. And Merc 4 pots? 

Unless there is an AMG badge involved or you are plying your trade with a heavy oil drinker, best avoided. Scenic - another one that dropped the “you are about to have your whole day ruined by my whimsical fuel guage” bomb. Now I am not Marines grade but dropping the “range” down from 25 miles to nothing in a moment and subsequently issuing visual and aural warnings I deem a cause for concern. Witness illegal U turn. 

A quick £6 later to ensure safe delivery and just 10 miles on and the same scenario. WTF?!! For a moment I tried to calculate whether the Grand Scenic was doing 10mpg or the “computer” was, err, rubbish. Didn’t care - car delivered. Back to the Transporter - fun for a short while with turbo diesel torque and positive hand span close shifter, but relying on two door mirrors a reminder of why we have few excuses in a “proper” car. 

Fuel economy: annoyed by Focus ST that insisted on doing 20 something mpg whether I cared or not therefore costing me 10 minutes in an extra fuel stop. Great car but has to be deemed unacceptable now. Saw 49.9 mpg in a Merc E250 CDi Cab on a 60 mile trip before I knuckled down to get the job done. 

Also worried myself I was in competition with Tim at Autocar who’s declared he is determined to achieve a long term 50mpg+ with his Passat CC. Gets upset when other staffers borrow it and don’t indulge in the same wholly laudable but entirely unrepresentative behaviour of someone buying a £25-30k car. Anyhow - 19mpg in the SLK 200 (!) but real stop-start stuff (mainly stop). 

And the star? 60mpg by Audi A3 TDi Cab driving north to south London with a 7am start. All verified by manufacturer “trip computers” and lazy plater. Maybe deduct 10%.

Remember “turbo lag”? I have enough distinctive provenance - ok, old enough - to remember when turbos were the real bad boy “Q” cars: BMW 2002 Turbo, Saab 99 Turbo and Mitsubishi Lancer Turbo. Now one of these didn’t have a reversed “obrut” announcement on it’s front spoiler for super awesome DRG (“down the road graphic”) in the rear view mirror - and if you don’t know which one you’re not coming in…Anyway ‘70’s right back in my face with a Zafira 1.9 CDTi - to be fair old shape and auto but I had a few “moments” with it and had to recalibrate brain to advance 2 seconds to avoid “advisory” gestures from fellow motorists. Also another strangely “physical” car - steering and gear selector - odd for a yummy mummy motor (disclaimer: I am actually not sexist or indeed anything “ist”. Oh, apart from idiotist…).

Nice to go to a car with no personal “baggage”: Kia Sportage. OK the name is rubbish and I bet dealers call it “Sportidge” a bit like Evoque begat “Evoke”. Anyway no previous with Kia at all and - genuinely - no preconceptions so pleasantly surprised with decent - laggy - turbo diesel, slick shifter… and good a/c and stereo (plater musts…). Slightly curious that both Kia and Zafira were given approving exhalations by badge oblivious ladies. But then I am someone who nearly sold a pink Griffith to a very nice but self confessed colour blind chap ‘til the wife turned up. To be fair that was the selfsame car that a gentleman - standing outside a comely tavern, lager in hand - advised me from a hundred yards that I was, arguably, a “f***ing poof”. Really.

In sum, a largely uninspiring microcosm of a trade that - to be fair - pretends to be nothing other. But, on the other hand, can you imagine a job that makes you want to humbly request- indeed beg for - the keys to your Mum’s Micra?

*Plater - self employed guys armed with "trade plates" that enable them to collect and deliver cars from one place of business to another to grease the wheels of the UK motor trade. Open to all ages, typically from 23-70 the job specification requires a full UK licence (no more than 6 points), a reasonable command of the Queen's English spoken and written, the ability to loosely hang a tie round your neck and a clean - self funded - CRB if you manage to last two months.

Many thanks to Mike.  You'll find his previous column here

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The life of a 'plater'

Mike Trowsdale is a plater* and as such gets to drive many and varied cars at short notice.  Here are his cuttingly incisive, and frequently funny, thoughts on some recent cars. 

Been “plating” a few motors up and down our green and pleasant land over the past couple of weeks and put together a few thoughts between Talk Sport, Local Raydeeyo and aerial removed static…

Gearboxes: truly a story of the good, the bad and the - really - ugly…I have driven at least a dozen different manuals and none of them provided ratio exchanges notably beyond prosaic. Sad but true the favourite was a Zafira and surely just because it was different: high up, rallycross style (imagination required to stick at this job…).

A Focus Ecoboost was typical of the slightly ponderous and notchy cog swappers but still rather nice with the best steering/handling of the “eclectic” bunch sampled. Techno busting motor for sure, but I’m not in the Lord Cropley league of fans. Sounded potent(ish) 4-6000 but that’s not really the point and when in my default “nothing going on here” mode the trip computer was pretty much in the 30’s mpg. Did like the deeply cowled instruments - a little reminiscent of the Mk111 Cortina to this ‘70’s teen.

Sorry - gearboxes: also made the acquaintance of a Qashqai “auto” which must be a CVT. That passed itself off as ok - tho’ struggled on motorway inclines without a resolute right hoof. Maybe best off left with fond memories of Daf…And so on through the mainly morose manuals - and some perfectly good regular autos (Merc) - to the entirely epic Peugeot 3008 “EGC”, so bad I - had to - try it twice. And when I say bad I mean bad, and bad in the right way: terrible. This gearbox would not have been signed off by Dairycrest for fear of being sued for whiplash. I have no axe to grind with Peugeot - and I can only assume it had “Electronic Gear Control” as they do perfectly good autos - but it really is so bad you have to try it yourself. Or rather don’t, unless you are in a heavily padded enclosure and have enjoyed a bottle of Ricard. Which is the only way this could have been “approved” in the first place.

And so from chalk to cheese. Or maybe Dairylea to Foie gras. Which, to be fair, is very harsh on Dairylea. From the (2nd) 3008 I jumped straight into a Cayman S.  Postcode EC4 (central London) I guessed probably not a regular manual and as a former representative of Stuttgart’s finest I spotted what I assumed to be a “Tiptronic” lever. Oh dear. For the the unanointed, Tiptronic is just a regular - very good - slushmatic auto (with buttons for F1 afficionados…). Further study revealed the legend “PDK” - auto double clutch manual - at the base of the rather tastefully bling lever. Town driving was so near “Tip” smooth I would guess 80% of customers wouldn’t notice the difference.

The next morning I headed up to Nottingham and 70mph was just over 2000rpm in 7th (!). Kickdown was instant and the real thrill was the proper mechanical connection that nudged you in the back to tell you that the gear was locked in - and the resultant truly stellar acceleration. I was a Porsche sales exec 10 years ago and drove dozens of Boxster S’s but this was in a different league - 10 seconds of 50 to heaven and back and the love very much rekindled. In the words of one F Bueller: “Porsche; accept no substitute”.

Worst fuel gauge “distance to empty”: Renault Scenic 35-0 within 2 miles in central Birmingham. Trousers very concerned...

Merc B160 - wholly unremarkable. Five speed manual petrol with a “commanding” driving position that allows no view of the bonnet Qashqai/Freelander style and thus removes the perceived “safety” element beloved of school run mums. Reminded me of Derek Bell and his aside about travelling at 247mph in a 917 down the Mulsanne straight at Le Mans with his toes just 2 inches inside the nose of the car. Sort of.

Aygo - same as 107 right? Can’t agree with Rob at DriverVibe with the one I drove (3 years old to be fair). Looking forward to the car but found it small…and not much else. Knew it wouldn’t be quick but even with the benchmark of my first car - 38bhp Mini 1000 - it seemed to struggle. No “chuckability” thrills, a notchy and obstructive gearbox, lacklustre steering and overall, just small. Shame.

A1 TDi a bit of an eye opener. In “plater” mode - no research - so had clocked small car + TDi and thought probably not indecently fast. Anyway got stuck behind a Polo doing 40 in a 60, then 28 in a 30. Regular route so recognised the 50mph opportunity about to present itself and hung back… I timed it perfectly - for once - and put pedal to metal and crikey! 30-70 (apologies) in 3rd in a blink and matey boy in TT 225 behind floundering. I am not often taken aback, but in my natural Home Counties style - apologies for not being more cool - I did think “not bad”. So liking it (A1) and it (1.6 TDi) achieves the Holy Grail of 99g/km. On the downside the electric mirror control is in a jolly annoying position and both Mrs andI compared the ride to an old flame - the MGF Trophy. Quite firm…

Doing 1000 miles a week you can’t help but notice that Audi, BMW and Mercedes are doing a great job but maybe, just maybe also pushing the envelope of exclusive/prestige too far - when do “strong residuals” collide with the runaway train of yet more record sales? Talking of which I noted with interest that wannabe Volvo had a few hundred “ex management” low mileage “2013” spec. cars going thro’ a certain well known south eastern auction site. A slightly depressing take on the reality of the UK car market - predetermined marketing of probable oversupply (registrations = market share) that will hit your new car value hard. Hey ho I’m just a driver.

*Plater - self employed guys armed with "trade plates" that enable them to collect and deliver cars from one place of business to another to grease the wheels of the UK motor trade. Open to all ages, typically from 23-70 the job specification requires a full UK licence (no more than 6 points), a reasonable command of the Queen's English spoken and written, the ability to loosely hang a tie round your neck and a clean - self funded - CRB if you manage to last two months.

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Tyres - What you need to know

Ever had a blowout at a three figure speed that delivered a smokescreen more effective than a certain Mr Bond’s DB5? Ever been in “control” of a car wandering over a lane and a half with everything behind you in a pea souper effectively playing battleships? 

Ever changed a tyre on the hard shoulder “track” side fighting against factory torque settings sure in the knowledge that your Paul Smith’s did not provide best purchase on the tarmacadam as the HGV’s thundered past, hammer down? And ever wondered what really could have happened if your 4 wheels of choice had not been engineered from scratch far beyond the realms of your own less than genius limits? Don’t even think about it. Trust me; I would not have written this.

So take your tyres seriously: even a certain 6 month old, mid-engined German roadster on near new tyres (optional 17”s) at correct pressures was not immune to incident - in this case a screw on the road that punctured the tread and completely destroyed the sidewall in the resultant, somewhat rapid decompression. If brown ever was the new black, blame me. So what chance a car on worn tyres at incorrect pressures?

Whenever collecting a trade car from a dealer we check the tyres, and the pressures are always wrong; amazingly sometimes over inflated. Tyres are the medium through which your car steers, brakes and grips, and manufacturers set pressures - that normally differ front to rear - to achieve the handling and ride compromise that your car has been set up for: make sure you keep it that way. Forget the old foot pump - most petrol stations have air machines that you “set and forget” until the correct pressure has been reached; all of 50p and 5 minutes total investment - you know you’re worth it. 

You will find correct settings in your car’s handbook, and often on a sticker inside the petrol flap or the door shut. These numbers will normally be shown as both “psi” (pounds per square inch) and “bar” (don’t ask): do not confuse them - 2 bar = 29 psi. And do not make do with a visual/kicking check; modern low profile tyres render this the most obsolete of old school Arthur Daleyism.

Aside from pressures, you need to check a few other things: measure the “tread” (the bit that makes contact with the road) for depth - the legal limit is 1.6mm but the general consensus is not to go too far below 3mm before replacing. This is a standard for all Porsche and BMW approved used cars amongst others. The legalese goes thus: “at least 1.6mm throughout a continuous band in the centre 3/4 of the tread and around the entire circumference”. 

So if your tyre is shiny between the middle and inside or outside “shoulder” please replace - or get an MoT spanking.Wear on the inner or outer edge indicates wheel imbalance or incorrect “tracking” (wheel alignment), and excessive wear down the centre of the tread probably points to over inflation. Bear in mind that the driven tyres will normally wear out first - it’s ok to swap them front to rear to even out wear (as long as they are the same size…). Be aware that some tyres are “directional” - check for an arrow like indicator - and must be fitted to one side of the car only. Check for bumps or cuts in the “sidewall” (literally the side of the tyre that sits on the wheel) as any noticeable protrusion represents a weak spot - ditto a cut that looks anything less than completely superficial - and another probable mot fail.

So you think you might need new tyres? What to do? Rather than throw yourself at the mercy of the local tyre shop that will sell you a set of shock absorbers and a new exhaust at the first sign that you are not an F1 technician, empower yourself with a bit of knowledge: know your numbers. Robust interrogation of a tyre sidewall is all that is required to become a member of the black rubber intelligentsia.

Check your sidewall and you will find a number along the lines of 225/50/R17 V. The first number will vary from around 135 to 345 and represents the width of the tread in millimeters (1 inch = 2.54cm or 25.4mm). The second number is the height of the sidewall expressed as a percentage of the tread width, typically between 30 and 80 (sometimes known as “aspect ratio”). This is the number your local pub expert is referring to when talking about “low profiles” - the lower the number, the lower the profile. 

And if you need to explain to him the benefits of a lower profile - and you probably will - it’s that a shallower sidewall distorts less in “turn in” to a corner promoting handling precision, albeit - normally - at the expense of ride comfort. Moving on, “R” stands for “radial”, which means the tyre rubber is reinforced in the direction the tyre rotates as opposed to across the tread (the alternative being crossply - ‘60’s technology at it’s finest). The next number is the inner diameter of the tyre in inches (typically 10-22; ie the size of your wheels) and the last letter is the speed rating - the “higher” the letter the more capable the tyre. Make a note of all this info and possibly a further letter and number combination that follows immediately and hit the phone.

Where and what to buy? Well you don’t necessarily need to replace the tyres with the same make and type, but be aware that if your car is under manufacturer's warranty you will need to fit recommended boots, tho’ this should still typically give you a choice of 3-4 manufacturers. And if you did buy your car new or “approved used” get a quote from an independent supplier for the right tyres and go back to your dealer as a loyal customer and suggest that you might like to stay loyal and you WILL get a deal. Maybe not quite the same money but you might get a wash and vac into the bargain. 

Trust me - customers that do not query main dealer tyre prices are flagged up as whipping boys. But ultimately get the best deal with the company you are happiest with - main dealers don’t expect to sell too many tyres so your copybook will not beindelibly blotted. But do remember the wise words of a Peugeot service advisor who once told me in heartfelt melodrama: “at the end of the day sir…your brakes are your life”. And indeed they are, but without proper tyres the vice-like grip on your discs might as well be locking the wheels on Casey Jones’ last run. Be safe out there.

By Mike Trowsdale

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