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Memories of TopGear.com's parents' cars | Top Gear

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You've seen the TV trio reminisce about their dad's wheels. Now it's our turn

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You've seen the TV trio reminisce about their dad's wheels. Now it's our turn

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
You've seen the TV trio reminisce about their dad's wheels. Now it's our turn

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You've seen the TV trio reminisce about their dad's wheels. Now it's our turn

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ANDY FRANKLIN, CREATIVE DIRECTOR

My earliest memory was my mum’s Triumph Herald saloon that I used to go to school in, sliding around on the pleather backseat. That and my dad’s Reliant Scimitar of which the engine was blown up by the AA, but that’s a story for another day. The Herald’s speedo was so woefully inaccurate that it read 80mph while we were doing 30mph. Still, it made an impression – what was the first car I ever owned? You guessed it: a Herald (convertible), which I still own today...

OLLIE MARRIAGE, HEAD OF CAR TESTING

My dad had a Citroen CX, a 24 Pallas. I’m about eight and we’re driving through France. The CX, famously, had a barrel speedo like a set of bathroom scales. I wanted to know what the difference was between miles and kilometres. The best way of describing it, my dad decided, was by hitting 125mph/200kph. We never got there. Mum intervened. Dad tried to insist it was a maths lesson (multiply by eight, divide by five), which we ended up conducting at 100mph. I’ve never forgotten the moment, or the calculation.

VIJAY PATTNI, EDITOR, TOPGEAR.COM

My parents didn’t have much money when I was growing up, so early memories buzz around a succession of knackered rustboxes: an early Escort, a Renault 12, a first-gen Astra and a frankly battered old Datsun Cherry. Which made the arrival into our humble household of a clean, low-mile Mk2 Cavalier SRi something of a watershed moment. It wasn’t the more powerful SRi 130, but it felt quick enough – my brother and I were certain its 2.0-litre had been breathed on a bit by the previous owner. Absolutely loved that car.

STEPHEN DOBIE, DEPUTY EDITOR, TOPGEAR.COM

My parents had a couple of rear-drive Ford Escorts, but the earliest car I remember is a white Mk1 Cavalier. Chiefly the night it broke down outside the chip shop... and was never seen running again. It was replaced by a red Peugeot 309 with a whopping 1.1-litre engine. I loved it and it’s probably partially to blame for my infatuation with French hatches now. A red 309 GTI has a place reserved in my lottery win garage, a racy homage to the car that used to run me to school.

PETER RAWLINS, SUB-EDITOR

My mum had an H-reg Fiat Panda Tacchini edition, a limited-run model – dark grey, green detailing – in collaboration with noted sportswear designer Sergio Tacchini. Her pride and joy, we went everywhere in it, including several trips to France. After 10 years in her ownership, it was passed over to my then 17-year-old cousin, who promptly managed to roll it and write it off. He told her at the time he was avoiding a fox. This turned out to be a lie. My mum has never forgiven him and doesn’t let him forget it.

OLLIE KEW, SENIOR ROAD TEST EDITOR

Allegedly the reason my dad has mainly owned sensible front-wheel drive hatchbacks since I was born was because, one slippery night in the autumn of 1979, he was showing off to my future mum in this rear-wheel-drive Ford Escort 1100 (complete with aftermarket go-faster strip and deeply classy his'n'hers name stickers in the windscreen) when he lost the back end and applied it vigorously to the signpost warning him about the sharp bend he was currently spinning across. Whoops. Though in fairness, the Escort was so rapid his passengers always believed he'd secretly bolted a bigger engine in under the bonnet. "I recall being impressed with the electric windscreen washer. My previous Escort had a mechanical foot pump to the left of the clutch pedal," says Kew Senior. These days he's got a Mk4 1.5-litre Mazda MX-5 (fantastic) but drives it wearing a Mazda-branded baseball cap to avoid sunburn (oh dear).

ELLIOTT WEBB, ART EDITOR

My mum had an XR2i fiesta which I used to think was the fastest thing in the world. White with Ford blue accents, this little hatch made my mum too cool for school. The 1.6-litre, 100-odd horsepower engine was a joyrider's dream, which she found out when it was stolen, ram-raided into a bowling alley and then dumped into a lake. It was taken from the drive with the only things remaining a parcel shelf and my mum's Avon potpourri basket she used to keep on the dash. What a sad end to a beautiful memory.

TOM HARRISON, STAFF WRITER

When the Land Rover Discovery 3 came out, my dad ordered a V8 with all the trimmings as his next company car. Our excitement was tempered when it arrived a month or so later with the diesel, a manual gearbox and a hole in the dashboard where the sat nav should have been. Still, he went on to have a few more over the next several years. They were mostly reliable, but a lovely blue one broke down fairly spectacularly on the first day we had it (causing enough of an obstruction to make the local traffic news) with fewer than 40 miles on the odometer, then another few times on the dealer’s techs while they were trying to figure out what was wrong with it.

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ANDY FRANKLIN, CREATIVE DIRECTOR

My earliest memory was my mum’s Triumph Herald saloon that I used to go to school in, sliding around on the pleather backseat. That and my dad’s Reliant Scimitar of which the engine was blown up by the AA, but that’s a story for another day. The Herald’s speedo was so woefully inaccurate that it read 80mph while we were doing 30mph. Still, it made an impression – what was the first car I ever owned? You guessed it: a Herald (convertible), which I still own today...

OLLIE MARRIAGE, HEAD OF CAR TESTING

My dad had a Citroen CX, a 24 Pallas. I’m about eight and we’re driving through France. The CX, famously, had a barrel speedo like a set of bathroom scales. I wanted to know what the difference was between miles and kilometres. The best way of describing it, my dad decided, was by hitting 125mph/200kph. We never got there. Mum intervened. Dad tried to insist it was a maths lesson (multiply by eight, divide by five), which we ended up conducting at 100mph. I’ve never forgotten the moment, or the calculation.

VIJAY PATTNI, EDITOR, TOPGEAR.COM

My parents didn’t have much money when I was growing up, so early memories buzz around a succession of knackered rustboxes: an early Escort, a Renault 12, a first-gen Astra and a frankly battered old Datsun Cherry. Which made the arrival into our humble household of a clean, low-mile Mk2 Cavalier SRi something of a watershed moment. It wasn’t the more powerful SRi 130, but it felt quick enough – my brother and I were certain its 2.0-litre had been breathed on a bit by the previous owner. Absolutely loved that car.

STEPHEN DOBIE, DEPUTY EDITOR, TOPGEAR.COM

My parents had a couple of rear-drive Ford Escorts, but the earliest car I remember is a white Mk1 Cavalier. Chiefly the night it broke down outside the chip shop... and was never seen running again. It was replaced by a red Peugeot 309 with a whopping 1.1-litre engine. I loved it and it’s probably partially to blame for my infatuation with French hatches now. A red 309 GTI has a place reserved in my lottery win garage, a racy homage to the car that used to run me to school.

PETER RAWLINS, SUB-EDITOR

My mum had an H-reg Fiat Panda Tacchini edition, a limited-run model – dark grey, green detailing – in collaboration with noted sportswear designer Sergio Tacchini. Her pride and joy, we went everywhere in it, including several trips to France. After 10 years in her ownership, it was passed over to my then 17-year-old cousin, who promptly managed to roll it and write it off. He told her at the time he was avoiding a fox. This turned out to be a lie. My mum has never forgiven him and doesn’t let him forget it.

OLLIE KEW, SENIOR ROAD TEST EDITOR

Allegedly the reason my dad has mainly owned sensible front-wheel drive hatchbacks since I was born was because, one slippery night in the autumn of 1979, he was showing off to my future mum in this rear-wheel-drive Ford Escort 1100 (complete with aftermarket go-faster strip and deeply classy his'n'hers name stickers in the windscreen) when he lost the back end and applied it vigorously to the signpost warning him about the sharp bend he was currently spinning across. Whoops. Though in fairness, the Escort was so rapid his passengers always believed he'd secretly bolted a bigger engine in under the bonnet. "I recall being impressed with the electric windscreen washer. My previous Escort had a mechanical foot pump to the left of the clutch pedal," says Kew Senior. These days he's got a Mk4 1.5-litre Mazda MX-5 (fantastic) but drives it wearing a Mazda-branded baseball cap to avoid sunburn (oh dear).

ELLIOTT WEBB, ART EDITOR

My mum had an XR2i fiesta which I used to think was the fastest thing in the world. White with Ford blue accents, this little hatch made my mum too cool for school. The 1.6-litre, 100-odd horsepower engine was a joyrider's dream, which she found out when it was stolen, ram-raided into a bowling alley and then dumped into a lake. It was taken from the drive with the only things remaining a parcel shelf and my mum's Avon potpourri basket she used to keep on the dash. What a sad end to a beautiful memory.

TOM HARRISON, STAFF WRITER

When the Land Rover Discovery 3 came out, my dad ordered a V8 with all the trimmings as his next company car. Our excitement was tempered when it arrived a month or so later with the diesel, a manual gearbox and a hole in the dashboard where the sat nav should have been. Still, he went on to have a few more over the next several years. They were mostly reliable, but a lovely blue one broke down fairly spectacularly on the first day we had it (causing enough of an obstruction to make the local traffic news) with fewer than 40 miles on the odometer, then another few times on the dealer’s techs while they were trying to figure out what was wrong with it.

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You've seen the TV trio reminisce about their dad's wheels. Now it's our turn