Aviva - or rather, a Vauxhall Viva

Norwich Union has changed its name. The TV commercial announcing the decision includes a host of celebrities who no longer go by their birth names: Ringo Starr,  Alice Cooper and Bruce Willis (among others) tell us that a change of name can be ‘a chance to show the world who you’ve always wanted to be’.

Here’s a picture of who Norwich Union always wanted to be.

Happy New Year.

Sarah Bennett-Baggs and James Martin with his Maserati A6GCS and a GranTurismo for good measure

I found myself taking a huge dislike to James Martin last night as I watched his exploits on the BBC programme The Real Italian Job: James Martin’s Mille Miglia. I’d previously seen him as the quite likeable host of Saturday Kitchen, but I thought he came across as a bit of a w&nker as he prepared to embark upon the classic Italian rally in a beautiful 1948 Maserati A6GCS which he bought for around £650,000 of his own money (apparently more than he’d spent on his house). Another £300,000 or so went into an engine rebuild before the car was ready for the off and then, having picked out a wardrobe featuring three pairs of driving shoes, he and his attractive blonde co-driver, Sarah Bennett-Baggs, set off from Brescia as his model girlfriend, cum official photographer, looked on.

So of course, I almost wet myself when the old Maser’s engine gave up before he’d even made it to the first stop at Ferrara, but then it dawned on me that perhaps James Martin wasn’t a t*sser at all. He was actually just a guy having a go at ‘living the dream’. I believe he’s pretty much a self-made man, so he’s earned the money that he spent on the classic Maserati - and then some. He can return home to his fantasy garage to lick his wounds (after he’s beaten the cr&p out of the guy who carried out the engine rebuild) and console himself in the arms of his gorgeous girlfriend and behind the wheel of his more modern and more reliable Maserati GranTurismo.

So as the programme drew to a close, I had to admit that I must have been overcome by the green-eyed monster. Well done James, for giving it a go. I’d love to have a crack at the Mille Miglia myself someday, but if I never get the opportunity, I’ll happily ride along with you vicariously, if you’ll give it another try.

Buy one of these. The way things are going, it could soon become a collector’s item.

We’ve been off air for a while. There was dry rot or something in the blogging software, so we had to sit on our hands, and keep our thoughts to ourselves.

But we’re back now, or at least I am, and I thought I would rekindle the embers of our virtual relationship by telling you about the floods.

Notwithstanding the fact that I live on top of the North Downs, the road into our village is frequently flooded to a considerable depth. There is a dip between some fields that slope towards the road, and after heavy rain, it’s like living on the shores of the Ganges. And so it was last week. Several feet of water, floating logs, and water buffalo.

It doesn’t bother me; I drive a Range Rover, so three feet of water is but a mere puddle. But I get just as stranded, just as cut off from the outside world as if I were in a G-Whiz, and all because of the muppets who drive right up to the water before they notice it’s there. Then instead of simply turning round, they get out of their cars and huddle in perplexed groups like the tribe of Israel contemplating the Red Sea. Usually there’s one in wellies who will wade in up to his ankles and proclaim the water wet. Meanwhile, the road is utterly blocked, supplies are cut off, and the Red Cross is mustered.

It happens at least once a month, yet to most of our doddering village motorists it always comes as a surprise, and they are no better equipped to deal with it now than they were when De Dion first met Bouton.

Creating an automotive design icon is quite a challenge. If it were an easy thing to do, I’m sure every car maker would have one. But of course it isn’t and therefore they haven’t. All the more surprising then that a major manufacturer like Ford should stick a dagger through the heart of its little Ford Ka - which stood every chance of achieving (some would argue it already had) cult iconic status.

Let’s look at the evidence. What are the basic ingredients that make up an automotive icon? First and foremost: individual and distinctive design. The original Ka had this in spades. Its charming, cheeky-chappie styling was like nothing else around. Ford designers themselves must have been pretty chuffed with themselves as they even used the Ka’s shape to define the K-A logo.

Next add a generous helping of character. Aside from the Ka’s cute and stylish looks, it was a hoot to drive. It arrived at a time when Ford’s engineers had really hit a sweet spot in tuning their chassis. Witness the Fiesta, Puma and the 1st generation Focus which followed soon after.

The toughest part of the equation is longevity. A true icon has got to stand the test of time and outlast all of its rivals. The Ka lasted 12 years without a major facelift, and in recent times, this is exceptional. OK, I know there was the StreetKa version and then the SportKa but, to me, these merely served to prove the validity of the original concept.

Ford had two choices on how to proceed. Either acknowledge that the Ka was something special and apply subtle changes (Kinetic dialect?) to update the design while still retaining the essence of the original (see Audi TT) or deny the baby Ford’s status, stick rigidly to the Kinetic design language and end up with the bizarre compressed Fiesta cum Corsa that is the all-new Ka. I think the former option could have resulted in a car that could almost match the appeal of the Fiat 500 that shares its platform.

Still, Ford is not alone in treading this disappointing path. Any takers for a charmless Twingo?

This image is from a new SEAT cinema commercial. I won’t bore you with the puerile plot, but the punch line is a woman driving off into the distance having outwitted a number of male drivers – hence the finger.

Motor journalists are supposed to exercise a duty of care and not write or say anything that is likely to encourage reckless or belligerent driving. It seems that SEAT, at least, does not consider itself to be subject to the same common-sense restraint.

Moreover, the gesture exemplifies the attitude seemingly prevalent among certain classes of young, female drivers who seem to regard any male driver, and for that matter, each other, not as fellow road-users, but as targets, to be outwitted in a show of belligerent driving that reveals inexperience rather than skill.