Pedalling around the M25, evening rush hour is over and traffic is moving pretty briskly. The Fiesta’s engine is hoarse, its performance negligible. Reaching 70mph feels like a distant dream. I can oscillate the steering-wheel rim a couple of inches either side of straight-ahead without the car’s path deviating at all, which means I’ve no control as it wanders around its lane like it’s had a drink too many. There’s an agonising interval between my pressing the centre pedal and the non-servo brakes waking up. The bodywork might as well be eggshell. Oh, and I have to be in Cologne by tomorrow afternoon.
This feature was originally published in issue 291 of Top Gear magazine
Photos: Lee Brimble