Top Gear’s Top 9: cars named after the wind edition

Yep, VW’s seminal, hatchback-by-which-all-hatchbacks-are judged isn’t named after the game of knocking a small ball into a small hole with an expensive stick. 

It’s actually badged in honour of the Gulf stream, and one of many VWs named after the wind – like Jetta (Jet stream), Scirocco (after a strong Saharan desert wind) and the Passat, which is a contraction of ‘passatwinde’, the German word for tradewind, that powered merchant sailing ships across the high seas. A noble quest, now continued by German business reps barrelling down das autobahn in their Passat 2.0 TDI Bluemotion. Safe travels, Herr Merchant.

Horacio Pagani is a native of Argentina, and intended to name his V12 masterpiece after his homeland's greatest racing driver, the iconic Juan Manuel Fangio. However, as Fangio himself sadly passed away before the car was due to be revealed, Pagani had a change of heart, and instead titled the car Zonda, after the hot air current that blows across Argentina. You could say that the spirit of Fangio lives on in the car, even though his name isn’t carried next to those spectacular quad-exhausts. 

Bonus point: the Huayra continues the gusty theme, taking its oft-mangled name from Peruvian wind-god Huayra-tata.

Course, we could’ve had the Lamborghini Huracan, but strictly that’s named after a bull that was named after the stormy gale-force wind. Instead, we’ve got the perfect excuse to gawp at Holden’s splendiferous 1969 concept car. 

Powered by a mid-mounted 4.2-litre V8 and featuring space-age features like on-board cameras and a hydraulically-operated canopy instead of regular doors, the Hurricane was never intended to fight the Ferrari Daytona and Lamborghini Miura, but instead served as a test bed for technology… that remained firmly on the drawing board.

Still, what a wedge. Wonder if the exhaust note was flatulent?

Oh, alright then. Huracan, the Spanish word for hurricane, was inspired by a particularly courageous Spanish fighting bull from 1879. Can’t advocate for bullfighting, of course, but we can endorse the baby Lambo’s spectacular naturally aspirated V10 in all its old-school brilliance. Strictly it’s pronounced ‘oo-rack-an’, without the haitch on the front, but if a native English speaker tries that, it sounds like a bad impression of the formidable All Blacks performing the Haka. Be warned.

Zephyr – a warm, westerly wind, or the flagship British Ford of the 1950s and 1960s, featuring a straight-six engine, and styling unashamedly inspired by the finned, chromed jet-age cars coming out of Detroit wearing Ford badges at exactly the same time.

Just think, this is basically the genesis of the Mondeo. They sure don’t make ‘em like they used to. Call it the winds of change…

Maserati blew the dust off the Ghibli name in 2013 for its entry-level sports saloon. Hurrah, the first Maserati diesel! And one of the last, as it turned out. We won’t spoil your day with a picture of that Ghibli – there are prettier ones to ogle.

The illustrious trident had previously deployed the nameplate back in the late Sixities and early Seventies for a stunning 2+2-seater V8 GT car, and once more in the 1990s, for a boxier two-door coupe powered by a weeny 2.0-litre bi-turbo V6 for the Italian market, and a brawnier 2.8-litre V8 for exported versions. So, the cars don’t have much in common from an engineering perspective, but all of them share their name with a hot, dust-bearing wind that blows across north Africa.

Turns out that super-SUVs are by no means a folly of the 2010s.

The United States of You-Know-Who were quick out of the blocks way back in 1991, although GM’s go-faster version of the humdrum Sonoma pick-up truck was hardly a sure-fire success. In fact, because it was a leap into the unknown, GMC only produced 2,995 units, for one model year.

You’d bet your life on the magnificently named Syclone – a deliberate misspelling of the swirling tropical storm – being powered by a million-litre V8 developing about fifty horsepower, but nope. This was an early example of downsizing, with power being sourced from a 4.3-litre turbochaged V6, sending 280bhp and 350lb ft to all four wheels though a four-speed automatic gearbox.

Terrifyingly, it was recorded sprinting from 0-60 in 4.3 seconds. Yep, meet the truck that could literally outpace a Ferrari. Yee-haa.

Two for the price of one here, people, with a contender for the greatest name ever to adorn any car… ever. Tornado is one of those classic British sports car makers that arrived after the Second World War, made some pretty, lightweight little speedsters, then promptly went bust.

Tornado only lasted from 1957-1962, and basically took everyday Ford oily bits and dressed them in bulbous fibreglass bodywork. The Typhoon model featured a 933cc four-cylinder engine, a three-speed manual, and two seats, though Tornado would also simply sell you the body to fit on top of, well, anything you liked.

We had to. What is it about cars named after winds barely living for any time at all – unless they’re part of the VW Group? Weird.

Anyway, Renault’s attempt to shove some old Renaultsport Clio bits under a flip-top roof inspired by the Ferrari 575 Superamerica may not have been a commercial smash-hit, but it’s provided many puerile jokes for immature car fans like us since it let rip in 2010, and its demise just three years later.

Could’ve been a modern classic to rival the MX-5, this. Pity Renault blew it.