My car developed a serious fault which required investigation and repair (under warranty thankfully) by the garage. Due to their workload and waiting for a part to arrive I had the use of a courtesy car for an entire week (Saturday to Saturday) and what an eye opener that turned out to be.
I drive a 53 plate Ford Focus Zetec 1.8 tdci diesel and the courtesy car was a 56 plate Zetec 1.6 petrol (haven't a clue about the bhp but I'm guessing not very much).
At first, as we drove out of the garage I was immediately struck by the lightness of the steering and the clutch. Piece of piss to drive and made me realise how heavy the clutch on my car was, especially around town, car parks etc, not difficult, just takes a bit more effort. I said to Lesley we were getting a petrol car next. On we continued through the town and onto the open road where my opinion changed. It just wasn't as satisfying to drive, something was missing. Once we hit the dual carriageway all became clear, there was no power, no acceleration. I'd hit the accelerator the rev counter would go up, the engine note would change and... and... nothing, no being flung into the back of the seat acceleration... watching the speedo increase was like watching paint dry, it was abysmal.
As I used the car through the week I was actually afraid of overtaking traffic as I wasn't confident in getting the manoeuvre completed before nightfall, it was that bad. With the diesel I can dab the accelerator and get instant speed in any gear. Dropping the petrol car down 1 or even 2 gears and reving the feck out of it did nothing, the thing had no appreciable acceleration. No wonder wrinklies drive so slow, their car is on the limit.
Throughout the week I came to hate the car more and more. It drank petrol like it was going out of fashion. The interior was the ugliest I've ever seen in a car, we're talking Morris Marina ugly here. Finally, the dashboard would not stop flashing and beeping bloody warnings at me. The doors open, the seat belts not on, you're in reverse, you only have 50 miles of petrol left, you only have 25 miles of petrol left, you only have... beep, flash, beep beep, flash beep... constantly.. feck off. It was driving me crazy.
Come the following Saturday and I was relieved to get my old car back. Yup, the clutch was heavy, the gearing not suited for driving in the town but once I hit that dual carriageway I let out and involuntary woo-hoo finally there was that acceleration I'd sorely missed. The next time I'm on a country road and get stuck behind a tractor/ cyclist/ caravan/ wrinkly I'll have them I thought to myself.
So in conclusion you couldn't pay me to buy that petrol car. Sure, if I lived in a big town or a city it might make sense but living in a village with most of driving on country roads and dual carriage ways I need acceleration instantly, anything less is just too dangerous.
PS: Reading this post again you might think I’m some sort of road rage infused boy racer, I’m not I just expect the car to accelerate when I tell it to in a manner which ensures a safe manoeuvre (plus brings a smile to my face). I also know nothing, and I mean nothing, about cars…they are purely devices to get from A to B so all the above is just my own personal experience. I love my Focus.
Usually I'd dismiss a story like this as a shameless publicity stunt to drum up interest in an event but as Roger's shows sell out pretty quickly I knew this was not the case. To lose one pig was considered unfortunate back in 1976 but to lose two...?
Right Walter, listen up, here's the plan. Put out your best team on Thursday against Fiorentina in the Semi-Final of the waffa cup. Go for it big style, attack attack attack. At the end of the night if we have a clear 3 goal advantage rest the first team and put out the reserves for the return match. If we have less than a 3 goal advantage or draw or lose then, again, put the reserves on the plane for the return leg. 
