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Ricci’s Garage: "the first-generation Dodge Viper remains the best car I own"

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Ricci’s Garage: "the first-generation Dodge Viper remains the best car I own" | Top Gear

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TG's resident car buyer talks us through the financial and emotional trauma brought on by his collection

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Ricci’s Garage: "the first-generation Dodge Viper remains the best car I own"

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TG's resident car buyer talks us through the financial and emotional trauma brought on by his collection

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TG's resident car buyer talks us through the financial and emotional trauma brought on by his collection

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Ricci’s Garage: "the first-generation Dodge Viper remains the best car I own"

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Ricci’s Garage: "the first-generation Dodge Viper remains the best car I own"

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Ricci’s Garage: "the first-generation Dodge Viper remains the best car I own"

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TG's resident car buyer talks us through the financial and emotional trauma brought on by his collection

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Internationally renowned photographer Mark has been working with TG for many, many years. When not taking photos he’s buying inappropriate cars. Here he shares his addiction with the world

Using Instagram as a photographer is a bit like living with a toddler. The most innocent comments can result in a total meltdown, pictures are presented to you completely unpromoted (requiring immediate feedback) and there’s seemingly no filter to what people will ask you at 4pm on a Tuesday.

In between the obvious queries relating to money, or requesting I get someone a job on TG despite them being based four thousand miles away, there’s one particular subject I can’t run away from without some kind of intervention. “Do you actually know what’s in your garage? Because it doesn’t make sense in the mag each month.”

If this page required a new strapline, that statement sums it up. Because most of the time I’m not entirely sure. And that’s not through ignorance; it’s still just a hobby that has got fantastically out of hand. But for my sanity (and your clarity) it’s about time for another general update on what’s working, what’s broken and what’s next.

For the past year my Mercedes-AMG E63 has been brilliant. However, I recently dared drive it down a country road at (nearly) the speed limit resulting in a popped tyre and a cracked wheel. Something made infinitely worse when the Merc’s tax is £570 a year, yet the roads around Kettering look like they’ve been shelled by Russian forces. Speaking of painful road tax, the Porsche 991 GT3 RS recently suffered a gearbox failure, overwhelming my dashboard with… many lights.

Over in reliable corner, the first-generation Dodge Viper remains the best car I own. While its above stablemates continue to break, the Viper continues to happily serve as a daily driver. The cheapest car I own, an old Mitsubishi Pajero Wagon, has now passed its MOT test but forgets it’s a car whose purpose is to move from time to time once the engine is warm. I’m sure that’s perfectly normal.

Bank account already wincing, the ‘good’ Mercedes W126 560SEL bought because it needed no work has… needed work. Aside from knocking suspension and a faulty transmission module, it’s awaiting new brakes, a new differential and new engine mounts. The Ferrari 360 Challenge racecar I’ve not seen since 2021 is finally having its fuel tank replaced, too. Only three years left until that needs to be done again.

Alas, we arrive at the scariest corner of them all: the ‘what was I thinking’ long-term restoration chicane. My Nissan Skyline R34 GT-R is currently driving Steve at SR Autobodies insane because, for the last month, he hasn’t been able to bolt it back together while I save for a new engine. And the BMW E24 M635 CSi, which I’ve now spent more money doing up than I originally paid for it, has been painted and is undergoing reassembly. Exciting times until the next invoice lands.

All of this is - as usual - completely self-inflicted. Nobody needs eight cars, let alone eight cars which haemorrhage money without even moving. The real reason for ignoring what’s in the garage most months is partly down to fear of invoices, and mostly down to taking on much additional work to combat said fear of invoices.

And yet… the temptation for a cheap old Alfa is strong right now and spurred on entirely by having no ‘proper’ working cars. Because everyone knows as soon as all your projects are broken, you need a new one to actually use. Then you’ve got about three months of use before it too inevitably goes wrong and becomes a project of its own, thus completing (and restarting) the cycle of pain all over again.

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Internationally renowned photographer Mark has been working with TG for many, many years. When not taking photos he’s buying inappropriate cars. Here he shares his addiction with the world

Using Instagram as a photographer is a bit like living with a toddler. The most innocent comments can result in a total meltdown, pictures are presented to you completely unpromoted (requiring immediate feedback) and there’s seemingly no filter to what people will ask you at 4pm on a Tuesday.

In between the obvious queries relating to money, or requesting I get someone a job on TG despite them being based four thousand miles away, there’s one particular subject I can’t run away from without some kind of intervention. “Do you actually know what’s in your garage? Because it doesn’t make sense in the mag each month.”

If this page required a new strapline, that statement sums it up. Because most of the time I’m not entirely sure. And that’s not through ignorance; it’s still just a hobby that has got fantastically out of hand. But for my sanity (and your clarity) it’s about time for another general update on what’s working, what’s broken and what’s next.

For the past year my Mercedes-AMG E63 has been brilliant. However, I recently dared drive it down a country road at (nearly) the speed limit resulting in a popped tyre and a cracked wheel. Something made infinitely worse when the Merc’s tax is £570 a year, yet the roads around Kettering look like they’ve been shelled by Russian forces. Speaking of painful road tax, the Porsche 991 GT3 RS recently suffered a gearbox failure, overwhelming my dashboard with… many lights.

Over in reliable corner, the first-generation Dodge Viper remains the best car I own. While its above stablemates continue to break, the Viper continues to happily serve as a daily driver. The cheapest car I own, an old Mitsubishi Pajero Wagon, has now passed its MOT test but forgets it’s a car whose purpose is to move from time to time once the engine is warm. I’m sure that’s perfectly normal.

Bank account already wincing, the ‘good’ Mercedes W126 560SEL bought because it needed no work has… needed work. Aside from knocking suspension and a faulty transmission module, it’s awaiting new brakes, a new differential and new engine mounts. The Ferrari 360 Challenge racecar I’ve not seen since 2021 is finally having its fuel tank replaced, too. Only three years left until that needs to be done again.

Alas, we arrive at the scariest corner of them all: the ‘what was I thinking’ long-term restoration chicane. My Nissan Skyline R34 GT-R is currently driving Steve at SR Autobodies insane because, for the last month, he hasn’t been able to bolt it back together while I save for a new engine. And the BMW E24 M635 CSi, which I’ve now spent more money doing up than I originally paid for it, has been painted and is undergoing reassembly. Exciting times until the next invoice lands.

All of this is - as usual - completely self-inflicted. Nobody needs eight cars, let alone eight cars which haemorrhage money without even moving. The real reason for ignoring what’s in the garage most months is partly down to fear of invoices, and mostly down to taking on much additional work to combat said fear of invoices.

And yet… the temptation for a cheap old Alfa is strong right now and spurred on entirely by having no ‘proper’ working cars. Because everyone knows as soon as all your projects are broken, you need a new one to actually use. Then you’ve got about three months of use before it too inevitably goes wrong and becomes a project of its own, thus completing (and restarting) the cycle of pain all over again.

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TG's resident car buyer talks us through the financial and emotional trauma brought on by his collection