Top Gear:The Bugatti Veyron 56k=NO

[04_GTV6]

OK this Video is nothing but displaying the pure sexiness and power of the Bugatti Veyron W16
This Video is just absolutely awesome It is 37 1/2 minutes long so unless you got a very quick connection don't even try it unless you want to wait forever.
http://69.57.130.234/rfvideos/road_t...tti_Veyron.wmv

[AlphaJaguar5]

Top Gear is what all automotive shows and magazines should be. No B.S. just straight unbiased info on cars.

[zvillepimp1982]

I love that car its freakin sweet! Plus I love the fact that you have to have a special key to get it into top spedd mode thats just sick!

[Freakazoid]

Originally Posted by AlphaJaguar5

Top Gear is what all automotive shows and magazines should be. No B.S. just straight unbiased info on cars.

explain to me then why Top Gear bashes all of our domestic cars for their overall quality, and we get so upset when magazines do the same (once again, performance is a different matter). and no I'm not trying to carry over this conversation, just wanted to throw that out there :P.

Oh and the one critique I have about Top Gear is when they chose our domestic cars to test out, they dont' choose top of the line. E.g. they didn't wait for the Z06 C6 to come out. If you're going to test a corvette for performance you HAVE to use the z06 and not the c6. But I do love the show!

[XeroState]

Well first off that was a good show.

Secondaly, they bash our domestic overall quality as compared to their quality it IS crap. Look at Aston Martin, TVR, Porsche, Ferrari. Who do we have? Chevy and Ford? Think about what they are comparing our cars too and you will see why our quality falls short.

[04_GTV6]

well Jeremy Clarkson doesn't bash has Ford GT too much, he loves it so much he bought it back twice. Here's the article

Jeremy Clarkson: Sorry, Ford, I have to ask for my money back
Thirty-five years ago I promised myself that one day I’d own a Ford GT40, the blue-collar supercar that took an axle grinder to Ferrari’s aristocratic halo at Le Mans. But 25 years ago my dreams were dashed as I grew too tall to fit inside.

Happily, in 2002 Ford announced that it was to build a modern-day version of the old racer. It would, they said, cost less than £100,000 and do more than 200mph. They also said it would be much bigger than the original so pylon-people like me would be able to drive it.

*
And so, two years ago, having tested a prototype in America, I placed an order for one of the 28 that were coming to Britain.

As the months groaned by there were rumours of big price increases, insatiable thirst and catastrophic suspension failure. But there were also rumours of the supercharged V8 pumping out 550bhp and a mountain of torque so massive it was breaking the testing equipment. So I didn’t mind.

I didn’t even mind when it arrived at my house one month ago inside a truck which had “On Time” written down the side. As we know from America’s arrival into the second world war, their concept of “on time” differs slightly from ours.

And anyway, it looked so gorgeous, a mass of bulging muscle struggling to contain that massive 5.4 litre supercharged heart. It doesn’t look like a GT40 but it looks like a GT40 looks in your head. And it’s huge. Longer than a Volvo XC90 and as wide as a Hummer.

Which is why, on its first run, to London, it was like a blue and white Pied Piper trailing a stream of ratty hatches in its wake. Everyone was taking pictures, waving, giving me the thumb’s up. Never, not once in 15 years of road testing cars, had anything drawn such a massive crowd. And never had the crowd been so overtly supportive.

Of course you can’t run a car like this without a few problems rearing their head from time to time. It’s too wide for the width restrictions on Hammersmith bridge — backing up earned me a slot on the traffic news that morning. The turning circle means every mini roundabout becomes a three-point turn, and at oblique junctions, as is the case in a Ferrari Enzo, you absolutely cannot see if anything’s coming.

But set against this is a surprisingly quiet and civilised ride. It’s like a power station. Silent, as it gets on with the job of brightening up your life.

Mind you, you are constantly aware of the Herculean power that nestles just over your right shoulder. Partly because you can see the supercharger belt whirring away in the rear-view mirror and partly because it makes a deep, dog-baiting rumble when you do put your foot down.

Ford asked that I keep the revs below 4000 for the first thousand miles. But since 100mph equates to 1900rpm it’s not really a hardship. And at this speed you’re doing 15mpg, which isn’t bad at all. But three days later everything started to go very, very wrong.

Leaving the Top Gear studio, the immobiliser refused to un-immobilise itself. So the car was pushed into the hangar and I went home instead in a rented Toyota Corolla.

Ford sent a tow truck, changed the immobiliser and delivered the car to my house the following day. “Is it fixed?” I asked. “Yes,” they said.

It wasn’t. At three in the morning the alarm blew. And then again at four. This meant my wife started to refer to it as “that f****** car”, which took away a bit of the sheen, if I’m honest.

The next day, on the way back to the garage, I received a call on the hands-free phone from the tracker company. “Your car’s been stolen, sir,” said the man. “I’m sure it hasn’t,” I said, “because I’m in it.”

Fearing that I might be the burglar, the man asked if I could give him my password. Tricky one that, since I have a different password for everything on the internet and can never remember any of them. And that’s a big problem, because the man at the end of the phone has the power to remotely shut down the engine.

I threatened him, lightly, with some physical harm, but this didn’t work so I had to guess. “Aardvark,” I ventured. “Abacus, Aesop, additional . . .”

*
Eventually he took pity and I was able to deliver the car back to Ford with some stern warnings about the alarm, the immobiliser and the tracker system, all of which seemed to be malfunctioning. As a courtesy car they gave me a Ford Focus, with a diesel engine. Nice.

Two days later the GT was back. “Is it fixed?” I asked, again. “Yes,” they said

Five minutes out of the Ford garage I received a text to say my car had been stolen. And then, in the next half hour, three more. So, counting the two I’d received before I was even out of bed, that meant my car had been stolen five times before 9am.

This time I rang Ford and explained that I would personally come over there and insert the whole car up the chairman’s backside if it wasn’t fixed. And while I was on the phone a yellow warning light came on the dash.

“There’s a yellow warning light on the dash,” I bellowed, like Michael Winner, only angrier. “Oh, that’ll be something to do with the engine management system,” said the man with the bleeding ears. “You’ll need to get it looked at . . .”

When Ford gave me the car back after its third hospital trip in as many weeks, I didn’t ask if the security system was fixed. Because the notion of it still being broken was simply inconceivable.

So imagine my surprise when, one hour later, while at my daughter’s school play, I heard a familiar siren. I couldn’t believe it. The alarm had gone off again.

In a fury this time, I called Ford and explained, loudly, that Roush, the company charged with servicing and maintaining the 28 GTs in Britain, was plainly incompetent. And that there was simply no point asking it to fix the alarm again because it’d had three goes already.

I then did something the man at Ford wasn’t expecting. I asked for my money back.

And that, the next day, is what happened.

They put £126,000 in my account and sent a man to pick up the car. “Is it the alarm system?” he said. “They all do that.”

So there we are. A 35-year dream. A two-year wait. Ten years of damn hard work. And what do I get? The most miserable month’s motoring it is possible to imagine.

Strangely, however, as the GT rumbled down my drive for the last time, I felt like Julie Walters watching Michael Caine getting on the plane at the end of Educating Rita. I actually cried.

*
There’s a very good reason for this. I genuinely believe that some machines have a soul and I can’t bear to think of my Ford sitting in a warehouse now, unloved and unwanted. It is fine. It is perfect. It knows it’s a great, great car that was ruined by a useless ape who fitted a crummy aftermarket alarm system.

Ford has said I can buy the car back any time. It has even lent me an Aston Martin DB9 while I make up my mind. I don’t know though. I just don’t know.

Normally I finish these columns with an opinion of mine. But this time it’s the other way round. I’d love to hear yours.

One thing: I know I could sell the car privately and make a £50,000 profit. But I have never profited from my position as a motoring journalist. And I never will.

[Hyperion]

Is Top Gear on anymore? I watched it religiously & then it was gone.

[04_GTV6]

you have to download the vids its not on in the US anymore don't know why

[XeroState]

That was nice. Great commentary too. I love when he is in the Monte Blanc (i think) tunnel and he has this bored look on his face as he can't speed. And then when the plane catches up, he goes to DefCon 4 and just goes....lol.

Also the fact that if it lined up with the previous record holder, the Mclearn F1 in a race, the Veyron would rape it many times over.
The Mclearn F1 could gun it to 100mph and THEN the Veyron starts (yes, the F1 is going 100mph and the Veyron is at 0mph) the Veyron would beat it to 200mph....like wow.

[INNOVA]

Thank you SO much for that vid! It will probably be taken down by BBC auditors within the week!