I’m really not sure I’m doing this project car thing right. These stories are supposed to be full of skinned knuckles, bloodshed, anguish, despair and sorrow. On Monday my Audi update offered you nothing but a whimsical tale of low-stress ownership and perfect reliability. Today I follow it up with the latest on my 1997 Rover 825si Fastback, and it’s a story of low-stress ownership and perfect reliability.
Sorry about that.


Both my cars enjoy a far quieter life than they used to. Now working from home, my morning commute now takes me downstairs for breakfast and coffee, then upstairs again to my office, while the cars slumber contentedly outside, providing a terrific habitat for spiders which seem to love my exterior mirrors. Every now and again I’ll take one of the cars for a drive into the village, just because I feel guilty, more than anything.
When they do get used, though, they get used properly. The Rover quite recently did Sterling (yep) service providing my transport and spacious accommodation for the Goodwood Festival of Speed, behaving faultlessly throughout.
On leaving the festival I had the “fun” of somebody still high on motorsport latching onto my rear bumper, so with the lanes being narrow without anywhere to safely pull over and let them pass, I figured I’d put my foot down and proceed at the pace of Cap’n Tailgate.
It was fun! I had the KV6 singing in a sector of the tacho that I rarely visit- I usually tend to shift before about 3,000 rpm, just because any more than that isn’t really necessary for smooth progress. However, when exercised like this the engine shows the Hyde side of its split personality.
Closest engine sound I can compare it to is the VW group VR6 narrow-angle unit, which has a sharp-edged, metallic howl at mid to high revs. The Rover sounds like a muted version of the same, with an exhaust tuned for refinement and efficiency rather than power. It’s a great noise, and one that people really don’t expect to come from such a sedate, mature looking car.

Truth is this engine has always seemed like it would be far more at home surrounded by rather less metal. 175bhp isn’t even average by today’s standards, but cars have grown heavier, too, and the 800 can still hustle reasonably if it needs to. Bravery is needed in the corners, though.
Wrestling the Rover through a bend you become acutely aware of way tyres have developed in recent years. The fifteen-inch wheels of the 800 wear 65-profile rubber, so there’s a lot of sidewall bending to keep the 195-section tread in contact with the road, and you seriously feel it.
There’s actually a suprising amount of grip, but the way the car leans when punted into a corner merges with the way the tyre sidewalls bend, and any messages between the steering wheel and the tyre tread itself become smeared and confused. You actually feel more through your arse than you do from the wheel, and the sonic signature of four Falkens gamely hanging on with all their might is the greatest indicator you have that you have reached The Edge.
Anyway, I managed to sustain a reasonable gap from the press-on driver of the A6 behind me, who eventually turned off allowing me to sink back into a comfortable cruise.  I put the Hitchhikers guide to the galaxy cassette back in the Phillips and ambled home, marvelling at the way my air-conditioning still worked against all possible odds.
Not much later, this happened.

I love these little milestones.
There are few little peccadilloes that continue to infuriate about the Rover. The first is that the rear left passenger window button has a huge appetite for switch-cleaner. The second is that both the remote key-fobs are terminally broken, and will need replacing- this combines with another trait that makes daily operation alternately baffling and hilarious.
As a back-up to overriding the immobilizer, if the key-fobs pack in you can enter a unique code via the driver’s door lock, turning the key left, right, left, right a set number of times. This merry dance is now required at completely random intervals. After I returned from Scotland, the Rover having not been started for a fortnight, I expected to have to input the code, but no. Key in the lock, turn to the left, central locking actuates and flashing red light desists. Good to go, so I took it for a drive. Next day it wasn’t interested at all. Key in the lock, turn to the left, drivers door alone opens and horn beeps when I open the door, immobilizer LED blinking away happily.
Hey, it’s character. I’m down with that.
(All images copyright Chris Haining / Hooniverse 2016)