The Grand Tour (2016–…): Season 1, Episode 13 - Past v Future - full transcript

For the final show of the season, the Grand Tour tent arrives in Dubai from where Jeremy Clarkson and James May introduce a battle between their own, personal cars. Jeremy champions the ...

- Hello.
- Hello, everybody.

Greetings. Hello.

Hello.

Thank you so much.

Thank you.
Thank you very much.

Thank you.

Thank you so much,

and welcome to The Grand Tour,

which this week comes to you

from the United Arab Emirates!

Specifically...



Specifically,
we are in Dubai,

which means,
for the first time ever,

we are the three poorest people
in the tent.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Yeah.

I mean, look at that.

You think,
"How do they do that

with all those fountains?"

Well, I'll let you
into a little secret.

It's Perrier water.

Flinging it up into the air.

I heard another one
the other day.

A taxi driver
clearing out his cab

after a hard day at work--

umbrella, mobile phone,
usual stuff--



£800,000 gold bar.

Someone had left it in there

- and not even noticed.
- You would.

Mind you, that said, here,

you can just go to an ATM
and get gold out.

Look at this!
That's an actual ATM.

You know, at two o'clock
in the morning,

"I haven't got
an ingot with me."

But here you're fine.

You can even buy
tyres here, OK?

Which are studded
with gold and diamonds.

Look at this. £600,000 a set.

Even the authorities
are loaded.

We have here
a selection of pictures
of local police cars.

They have an Aventador.

They also have an SLS.

Yeah. Wait for it. They even
have a Veyron police car.

Oh, yeah. Obviously,

- because you need that.
- You actually do.

You need that.
It's important.

I've even got a photograph
of a local ambulance.

- Look, here it is.
- It's a Lotus!

Not quite sure how that works.

Presumably you have to break
the patient's other leg

to actually get him in there.

- Yeah.
- Then there's
public transport.

Now, OK, in the UK,
this is a bus, yes?

- Yeah.
- Let me show you

a photograph
of a local bus here.

- There you go.
- Wow!

155mph.

Costs £7 million.
Seats 23 people.

You telephone the owner.
He comes and picks you up

and takes you
to where you want to go.

Well, that's a taxi.

- No, James. No, no, no.
- Isn't it?

A taxi in Dubai
looks like this.

Oh, right. Yeah, of course.

You think I'm joking?
Look, "Uber".

Seriously, you call
Uber up here,

and you're given a choice--
Prius or helicopter.

Wow! Do you get
to rate the driver?

Do you think he sticks
his telephone on the screen

like in Britain in the Prius?

"I'm not really a pilot.

I'm doing this while
training to be a plumber."

"I want to get out!"
Just get out.

- Shall we get
on with the show?
- Good idea.

Because in our car show
this week...

James falls over.

Ow!

James fall over again.

And James falls over.

But first, there's been
a bit of an argument.

You see, James and I
both recently bought

five-door German hatchbacks.

His is a BMW i3, which
is powered by electricity,

and mine is a conventional
Volkswagen Golf GTI.

Yes, meaning my car
is from the future

and his is from the past,

making me enlightened
and him a dinosaur.

They have been arguing
like this for a while now.

The thing is, I don't doubt

that in the future
electric cars will work,

but they don't work now.

- Well, they do.
- They don't, James!

Well, why did you fit yours

with a petrol-powered
range extender?

Well, that's just
a little generator

that keeps the battery
topped up if I need it.

What you're saying is you
can't rely on new technology.

And your seats,
they're made

from the contents
of a Hoover bag.

Oh, says the man...

Says the man whose
seats are made

from Jackie Stewart's
old trousers,

which they are.

- It's- -
- Whatever!

The fact is, in the office,

we decided we'd had
enough of them bickering

and told them to go out
and do a proper road test.

So we did.

We began in London

with a real-world test

that Clarkson had thought of.

Right, James, we must now see

who can open their back door
in the shortest time.

- Why?
- There could be an emergency.

People will want to know.

Ready, steady, go!
Oh, mine's open.

Oh, dear.

Have you got
to open your front door

before you open that--
let's be honest-- a flap?

- It's not a flap.
- It is a flap.

Are BMW saying that,
in the future,

children will only be
three inches wide?

What are you talking about?

For a start,
it's hardly a hardship,

and that's
an enormous space.

You only wanted
to do that test

because you made a mistake.
He made a mistake.

I didn't. What mistake?

You did. You wanted
a three-door Golf,

and you didn't fill
the form in properly.

I know that.
You can't tick boxes.

Five doors
are better-looking.

No, they're not.

Nobody ever wanted
a five-door Golf GTI.

- It's really naff.
- We've got to get on
and talk about money.

He also wanted a red one.

He didn't fill that bit in
properly, either.

This car, with many,
many optional extras,

was £36,000.

Whereas James May's
BMW i3 was...

Well... let's find out,
shall we?

How much was your i3?

Well, it was £40,000,

but I got £5,000 back
from the government,

so actually it's £35,000,

which is less than yours,
I think.

You were given,
by the government,

£5,000 of taxpayers' money

so you could buy that car?

I didn't make the rules.
You can't turn it down.

It's not like
the Beatles' OBE.

That is obscene!

I mean, James May
is a wealthy man,

but that bus driver
has bought his car for him.

Where's the justice in that?

You're paying for his car.
Do you know that?

You have paid for it.

Just so you know,
you've paid for his car.

Has James May thanked you
for buying his car for him?

Jeremy will have
an opinion on this,

despite having bought a farm
on which, for many years,

he was paid
to not grow anything.

Congestion charge here.

It's £11.50
to drive into the centre.

- Not for me, it isn't.
- Of course it isn't.

The taxi driver, is he paying
for your congestion charge?

I suppose everybody
must pay a little bit.

It nearly works.

I'd had enough of this,

so I came up with a new way
of trying to prove

my car was better than his.

James, can I just ask,
why have you brought me
to London Airport?

Because I want to prove that
my car is faster than yours.

That's funny, because I
just heard you say

that your car's
faster than mine.

Yeah. Yeah, it is.

- 167 horsepower.
- Mm-hm.

Mine has the performance
pack, so it produces 227.

- Does it?
- Yes.

That's the official
figure, is it?

Yes, it is.

- From VW?
- Yes.

- And you believe them?
- Yes.

All right, listen,
I know what you mean.

0-150.

No.

Having not agreed on that,

we then failed to agree

on where the finishing
line should be.

James wanted a short race...

and I didn't.

- Compromise.
- It isn't. That's too short.

- It's not.
It's exactly right.
- It is.

But eventually,
we were ready to go.

Now, the thing to remember,
viewers,

is that an electric motor

delivers enormous
torque from nothing,

from really low down.

So over a short distance,

I should absolutely
cream this.

Here we go.

DCC-- normal.

Steering-- normal.

Drive-- eco.

No point in ruining
my own car to win this.

No need to rush.

I'm winning. Oh, yes!

I'm still winning.

Let's go get him.
Come on, Golfy!

No. No!

Quite sprightly, but er...

not sprightly enough,
methinks.

See you, James.

Bah! I've made the future
look rubbish

on the television.

And then,
to make it look even worse,

I told the benefit scrounger

that we were setting off
for Devon.

Erm...
Why are we going to Devon?

Because we have
two tickets tonight

to see Roger Daltrey
out of the Who

perform at a pub on Dartmoor.

Couldn't we just wait for him

to come and maybe
perform in London?

- Because I'm sure he will.
- Well, no.

Because it's a 200-mile
drive, or thereabouts,

it'll give us an opportunity

to see how our cars work
in the real world.

What he means is
it's an opportunity
for him to claim

that the car of the past
is superior.

To prove it wasn't,
I needed to top up

the charge I'd lost
by doing the drag race.

Right, if I look
at settings on my satnav,

I can look at
where all the charging
and petrol stations are.

I can even tell
what sort of charging point

I am being offered,

whether or not I have
the right card for it.

And soon, we found exactly
what I was looking for.

- It's the future.
- Another one.

- Oh, that's such a shame.
- Oh, shut up!

Because I didn't have enough
juice in the batteries

to make the next
charge point,

I had to turn on
my petrol generator,

which stopped them
going even flatter,

and engaged ECO PRO+
driving mode.

It does mean
I have to do 56mph.

That's where ECO PRO+
sets the maximum speed,

because that way you
get the maximum range.

But it means I'm effectively
a lorry driver.

Because I'm in ECO PRO,
I don't get any
air-conditioning

or climate control at all,

because that wastes
electricity,

so the car
is slowly steaming up.

It's now warning me. It says,

"Find a charge station,
you idiot!"

How many screws do you have
to have loose before you say

"Yes, I'm gonna buy a car,

which, when it's running
low on power,

has to be driven at 8mph,

with the air conditioning
off, and the lights off,

and the heater off,
and the radio off.

Why would you do that?

After several lifetimes

of driving in convoy
with James,

we finally found

a charge point that worked.

That's it.

- It's done?
- Yes.

You don't have to stand
and watch it.

It's not like petrol.
We can go off

and have a cup
of coffee, a sticky bun.

- How long is it gonna take?
- An hour or so.

- An hour?
- Yeah.

How much does it cost...
to fill it up?

Nothing.

- What?
- It's free.

- How could it be free?
- It's free.

You have to get the card,
but it doesn't cost...

- How much does the card cost?
- Nothing.

You fill a form in
on the Internet,

and it comes in the post.

So I'm paying for your fuel--

well, your electricity--
as well?

Probably.

I'm just staggered by this.

This is iniquitous.

After killing time
for a few minutes...

I'm just gonna try
and win some money

to pay for James May's
heating bill this year,

which... will undoubtedly
be down to me.

...I decided I couldn't be
bothered to wait any more,

so I recharged
the old-fashioned way

and, in moments,
was back on the road.

Britain only produces

5% more power
than it actually consumes.

That's now. So if everybody
starts buying electric cars,

the power stations
won't be able to cope.

There'll be power cuts,

and then there will be
looting and anarchy.

That's what James is doing.

He is bringing Britain
to its knees.

Oh.

Yes.

Here's something for Jeremy.

Assuming he's got
a CD player.

He's probably got
a cassette player

in his Golf GTI.

Actually,

May couldn't have
been more wrong.

This car may be from the past,
but check this out.

It's accelerating now,
you can probably hear that,

but I'm not doing it.

The radar in front of me

is maintaining a safe distance

behind the car in front.

He goes faster, I go faster.

He slows down, I slow down.

Car pulling out now
into the middle lane.

The car will sense that.

Yeah. It's now dropping me

back from that.

I don't even have to steer,

because it'll keep itself
between the white lines.

Look.

Google is making a big fuss.

"Ooh, aren't we clever?

We're making
a self-driving car."

It's already here!
I'm driving it.

And it's from 1978.

After an hour's charging,

I was back on the move.

I actually think the service
station on the motorway

should have an
electric-car driver section,

where there are, you know,

very complicated jigsaw
puzzles and a Monopoly set,

or maybe some
painting-by-numbers.

It is 170 miles to go.

God, look at it.
It's all the way down there.

Many miles ahead,

I was busy firing up

the GTI's
Apple CarPlay system.

Right, I'm gonna send
James May a text message now,

which would be illegal
in most cars,

but not in this one.

To whom
should I send your message?

May.

What was that again?
Uh-oh, something's wrong.

Can you try again?

Edit that out.

To whom shall I send it?

May.

I don't know what you
mean by "Barry".

- To whom shall I send it?
- I didn't say "Barry".

May.

This is not doing well,
Volkswagen. Come on.

OK. What do you
want to say to May?

"May,
you're a blithering idiot,

and your stupid car
is ruining my day."

Your message to May says,

"Your brother is idiot and
your stupid car is ready."

Ready to send it?

"Your brother is idiot"?

What?
He's never met my brother.

How does he know
he's an idiot?

Because I'd
turned off the motorway

to take the more direct
route to Dartmoor,

I thought I'd better let
James know that as well.

Erm... I'm going
on the A34 and the A303.

I'll see you there.

Your message to May says,

"I'm going on the first
floor of the three RC."

Ready to send it?

I, meanwhile,
was using the longer
motorway route

because there'd be
more charging points.

But I had my foot down.

And now... the electric car
of the future

is overtaking
a Porsche 911 Turbo S.

There we go.

I'm driving along
in a car on the motorway

at motorway speeds,

overtaking everybody.

Oh, no. Since I filled up,

I've used...
an eighth of a tank.

Oh, no!

And soon I was deep
in the Devon countryside,

where my excellent
motorway cruising machine

had become a GTI.

We're in full sport mode now.

It's got an astonishing
front differential,

so you can hurl the car
into any corner

at any speed
that takes your fancy,

knowing you're gonna come out
on the other side OK.

I'm not kidding.
On a road like this

with wet leaves
and mud everywhere,

this car is as fast
as any Ferrari.

It just is.

Many hours from now,

James May's going to be
coming along here saying,

"Right, I've got
13% battery and 2% fuel,

so if I do 13.8 miles
to the gallon, I should..."

Who wants to do maths

when they could do
lift-off oversteer?

In the i3, thanks
to my exuberant driving,

I was indeed
having to do some maths.

Energy management update:

I have 36 miles
of electric power remaining,

if I'm driving like this,

and 34 miles
of petrol range left.

So I'm going to stop
at these services

and I'm going to fill up
the little fuel tank.

Nine quid.
That is absolutely...

I've overfilled it, in fact.

If you drive a GTI,

you're going to get to where
you're going more quickly,

which means you're going
to meet more people,

have more experiences,
learn more stuff.

Speed makes you cleverer.

Whereas,
if you drive a BMW i3,

you're gonna
get everywhere late.

You're gonna miss out
on things.

You'll miss out on theatre,
culture, poetry.

Love.

You'll be a hollowed-out
husk of a man.

"Connect your vehicle
and validate."

What do they mean, "validate"?
I've already validated.

And here we are.
My quest is at an end.

I'm in good time.
All is well.

And I was in for a treat,

because joining
Roger Daltrey on stage

was legendary guitarist
Wilko Johnson.

The fabulous Wilko Johnson!

"Station waiting for a charge
request from the vehicle.

Initialisation. Charging."

It's not charging.

OK, viewers,
here is where we're at.

That last charging station
wasn't working.

We have about 60 miles to go.

So the answer is...

eco driving.

I'm not switching it
into fast mode.

It's too wasteful.

It is 18 miles to the pub.

I have 16 miles
of electric left.

Is there anything else
I can turn off?

Finally,
after much range anxiety...

Roger Daltrey, here I come!

...I made it.

Thanks
for coming, and good night!

Oh, cock!

So... Hang on.

- Your car of the future...
- Yes?

Two of the charging points

you went to on that simple
journey, two were broken?

Yes, that is very unusual.
But the point is,

if I'd been
allowed to set off

with a full electric charge
and a full little fuel tank,

I could have got there--
admittedly a lot at 56mph--

but I would have
done it with one stop.

56mph. The future does
sound boring, James.

And you still would have
missed the gig.

That film is out of date.

You don't get £5,000 from
the government any more.

- You only get £4,500.
- How will people cope?

I think what we've
done there is prove

his car is not really
worth buying just yet.

- Don't argue. It isn't.
It's not quite finished.
- Don't start again.

Before we move on,
I want to tell you
a little bit more

about that Volkswagen
system of texting.

Cos I was using that
to send a text from my car

the other day
to my youngest daughter,

and I put four kisses
at the end, which is normal.

And I said "X-X-X-X", OK?
This is what she got.

Oh, no!

Oh, that is awkward!

Oh!

What did she say?

- Oh, that is awkward.
- Say it, "X-X-X-X".

That's what comes out.

What sort of face did she pull

when she got that
from her dad?

Vomitous. Vomitous.

We haven't spoken since.

Katya, I'm sorry.
It was the car!

- Move on!
- Yes, let's move on.

It is now time for us
to visit the headquarters
of Chat & Co,

who are, of course,
based on Conversation Street.

Best one yet.
Anyway, we begin...

We begin with Dubai, in fact.

Cos the first time
I came here, which was...

was only 20 years ago,
it was like a small village.

I was the tallest thing in it.

Were you?

Now look at it.
It's unbelievable!

- It's not that now, is it?
- It is unbelievable, that.

Do you know,
this shirt is older

than everything you can
see out of that window.

James, that shirt is older
than Carthage, mate.
Look at it.

It is getting on a bit.

Anyway, the point
I'm trying to make is,

a few years ago,
when I first came here,

there were virtually
no motoring laws at all.

I woke up one morning
in my hotel--

the hotel,
there was only one--

in the hotel, thinking,

"How did I get
back here last night?"

Looked out of the window,
two wheel marks

right over the ornamental
roundabout.

And in the flowerbed,
my Range Rover.

Jeremy, were you very tired
when you parked it?

- I was off my face
with tiredness.
- OK. OK.

- OK.
- Barely able to concentrate.

But it was an extraordinary
free-for-all,

which I bet it isn't now.

It really isn't now.

There are now very many rules

and many stiff punishments.
I've got some of them here.

Getting behind on the
repayments on your car loan,

you go to prison.

Making rude gestures at other
motorists, you go to prison.

They're all just
the things I did

when I was 17 every day.

I quite approve of that.

I'm just thinking
of all the things

that you could be sent
to prison for in Britain

if we ran it properly.

A very good conversation,
isn't it? Here's one.

Anyone who takes
more than five seconds

between getting in their car
after filling up with petrol

and driving off.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Definitely.

Do you know what I mean by--

- Definitely.
- What do they do?

- I know.
- What?

Restaurant owners
who serve food

on a piece of wood.

Erm, It's not very
car-related,

- is it, really?
- No, it's not, but--

Heston Blumenthal does that.

Yes, he does. Exactly.

Heston, if you're
watching... prison.

You, prison.

I hate that--
food on a piece of wood.

I tell you what I hate.

I may have mentioned this
a couple of times before.

And I think it should
be imprisonable.

Any pilot who allows
the cabin of the plane

to be more than 68°F.

- Oh, God. Here we go.
- I'm with you on that.

- All planes are
too hot these days.
- They are.

It's just a standard moan
of yours.

- I know. I know.
- Oh, God.

We do have to fly together,
but I make every effort

not to sit near Jeremy
Clarkson for a long flight.

But eventually, you know,

they turn the lights off
and it goes all dark,

and after ten minutes
this voice over
in the blackness goes,

"It's literally the hottest
place in the world!"

- It is.
- "Are we flying into the sun?

If it gets any hotter,
I shall open a window!"

I've heard all of this
so many times.

Honestly, why do they do it?

Why?
Are there any pilots here?

- Yeah.
- You are a pilot?

Why do you do it?

Why do you boil us all?
Who do you fly with?

- Etihad.
- Etihad.

- How hot are the planes?
- Very warm.

Well, there's a new rule.

I'm telling you.
I'm warning you.

I'm seriously warning
you on this one.

You land. If it's gone
over 68 in the cabin,

straight to prison
for 50 years.

Can I also say,
since you're in here--

- We've gone off topic.
- It's worth pointing this out.

Since you're in here,
when we're trying to sleep,

don't tell us
the outside temperature

is 57 below zero,

cos we don't give a toss.

Cos you can't open
the window anyway.

We care about the temperature
in the plane.

Just a few rules.

Anyway, let's move it on.

Shall we get back on
to some cars?

Yeah, travel--

Well, sort of
travel-related stuff. OK.

I've got a photograph here

of Britain's idea

of infrastructure
investment, OK?

This is in Cambridge.
It's erm...

It's a T-junction
that they've designed,

for reasons known
only to themselves,

to look like a roundabout.

Yeah, and let me guess.

It cost 100 grand to do it?

No, it was £500,000.

- Of course it was, yeah.
- Half a million pounds

they charged
the taxpayer for that.

- For some paving slabs.
- Exactly.

Anyway, Dubai's idea
of infrastructure investment

is a little bit different,

cos what they're planning
is this.

It's called the Hyper Loop.

It's like a tube train.

And it'll go from Dubai
to Abu Dhabi,

which is about 100 miles away,

- in 12 minutes.
- 12 minutes!

12 minutes. That's
how long that will take.

So how fast does it go?

500 miles an hour.

I mean, that is just
breath-taking. It really is.

- Did you say
it was 100 miles?
- Yeah.

It's going 100 miles
at 500mph in 12 minutes.

That means it accelerates
to 500mph instantly.

- Mm.
- You're gonna have trouble

holding on to the drinks
trolley in that.

Ah! Ah!

When it sets off,
you'll poo yourself.

Then, when it stops,

you'll wee yourself
at the end.

It's a...
Are there any doctors here?

I'm just saying.
It's not a medical argument.

- I'm just saying.
- I'm not sure you're right.

Well, think about Newton.

If you set off,
you'll poo yourself, yes,

but when it slows down,
you'll un-poo yourself,

because everything has an
equal and opposite reaction.

I'm roughly right, aren't I?
Any physicists here?

- I think we should move on.
- Yeah.

Right at the beginning
of the series,

Richard Hammond and I came up

with a rather brilliant
idea called...

...Making James May

Do Things He Doesn't
Want To Do.

Yep. A brilliant idea
for an occasional feature.

We made him go to a
doughnuting festival
in South Africa.

- Yeah.
- He hated it.

Then he thought
we'd forgotten about it.

But we hadn't.

This is
the sort of countryside

where people
can do nice things,

like go for a walk
or a picnic.

This, however,
is the sort of countryside

that will be my home
for the day-- mud.

Yes, I love mud.

When I say I love mud,
I mean I hate mud.

But the people with me here
today really do love it.

They dream of the stuff.

These people behind me
are called winchers,

and what they like doing
is winching.

They will drive,
deliberately,

into something like
that puddle over there...

..until they get stuck, and
then winch themselves out.

When they've done that,
they'll find another one...

and do it again, and again,

and again, and again,
all day long.

Winchers seem to be obsessed

with making life
as difficult as possible.

They put orienteering punches

in almost unreachable
locations...

and then try to get their
4x4s right up to them,

as Seamus Doyle, my winch
buddy for the day, explained.

There are 50 punches

dotted around in different
parts of the site.

We have a punch card
on the side of the vehicle.

You've got to get this
punchcard to the punch.

The punch will be on a string

maybe 2ft long from
the tree, or maybe 1ft.

So you've got to punch
the number.

- Like a hole puncher?
- Yes.

When you get stuck,

because you're
gonna get stuck...

- Yes. Yeah, yeah.
- I have to get out

and attach the winch
to a tree?

Yes, you'll get out,

and you'll get
your strap with you.

The strap goes round the tree
to protect the tree.

Then you bring your wincher
up to the tree,

or whatever obstacle
we attach it to,

and I'll operate the buttons.

- Your English is excellent.
- Thank you.

I've been practising
for a long time now.

A lot of practice
has gone into that.

As soon as the contest began,

Seamus made it plain
that my new role in life

was to be his winch bitch.

OK, got to go, go, go.

- What, I've got to get out?
- Yeah.

Where the hell do you
think I'm gonna go?

Go with the winch rope
to that tree over there.

Oh, man!

This is like being a...

hippopotamus.

OK, the clock is ticking.

Having got our first punch,

I was hoping the day might
get a bit less terrible.

But it didn't.

- Oh, man!
- James, come on, will you?

Ow!

I'm winching myself.

Oh, that's much better.

Well, I say
it's "much better",

it's less shit.

Go!
We've got to make up time.

- I've got a great idea.
- Yes?

- Why don't you get out
and get the punch?
- No.

Why do I
have to keep doing it?

Me being the driver,
it doesn't work that way.

Right, where next
on our lovely Sunday drive?

- We're going down here.
- Don't be stupid.

Ow!

We're stuck again.

Get the winch out here,
buddy.

See the tree over there?

The place is full
of trees.

This is terrible.

Christ!

On the odd occasion
when I did manage

a sit-down in the car,

Seamus even managed
to ruin that.

That wasn't even necessary.

You just did that
to piss me off.

No, no, no.

We nearly made it, James.

Yeah, but you didn't.
Now can I go home?

Ground anchor over the hill.

- You just sit there, OK?
- I'll be here, OK, yeah.

It's four hours
we've been in here now,

and we've travelled,
in reality...

...150 metres.

All the things
I could be doing today

that I would rather do,

which include self-harm.

Mercifully, the contest
eventually came to an end,

and we were finally on our
way back to prize-giving.

- The good news is
we're not gonna come last.
- How do you know?

Because one of the boys
broke down since ten o'clock.

Lucky bastard.

Oh, geez!

I'm on it. I'm on it.

No, you're gonna overdo it!

No, it's OK. You're OK.

- You idiot!
- Your fault!

It was you driving,
you fool!

It stinks down here.

God! What is this stuff?

England.

At last, we made it back
for the prize-giving.

So, here's a quick sum-up.

Er... At the end
of a seven-hour day,

I've... been stuck
50-something times.

Erm... I've fallen over,

I haven't actually
been counting,
something like 25 times.

I've nearly drowned
in three puddles.

And that wouldn't be so bad

if I was gonna win a winch
or a winch cover

or a new piece of rope
or something like that,

but, in fact, in the rollover,

we tore the punchcard off,
which means, technically,

we've got to start again
from the beginning.

But I've decided to go
and drown myself instead.

- I like Seamus a lot.
- Yeah, I like him.

- Seamus is my new
best friend.
- Yeah, definitely.

- Ruined James May.
- We need to do
a lot more of those.

- Yeah, a lot more.
A lot more.
- Many more.

So, James, was there any
aspect of that that you liked?

- No.
- Good.

So, moving on, it's time now

to play Celebrity Brain Crash.

- That doesn't get any better.
- It doesn't!

Anyway, our guest today

is a shining star from
the world of Formula One.

He's also
a very brave young man,

because, even though
he is fully aware

of all of the calamities

that have befallen
all the other celebrities

that have tried
to come to our tent,

he's elected to arrive
in a hovercraft.

Ladies and gentlemen,
Daniel Ricciardo!

- And there he is.
- There he is.

Putting his helmet on.

That's a wise move,
I think. A wise move.

I genuinely, genuinely
like Daniel Ricciardo,

because he is
a truly nice man.

He's a truly nice man,

and he's also extremely
happy and cheerful.

I just... Well, I know
from personal experience,

hovercrafts
are tricky to control.

Yeah, Jeremy,
he's a Formula One driver.

- He's got this covered.
- No, but it's windy.

Oh, here he comes.
Here he is, arriving now.

- He's fine with that.
- Wrestling with the controls
and doing well.

- Yeah.
- Oh, he's overshot.

He's overshot a bit there.
Oh, dear.

Oh, no!

Oh, there's been...
No, there's been a... No.

Oh, God!
He's going in the fan!
He's going in the fan!

Oh, no!

Oh, that...

The helmet...

The helmet has now
thankfully jammed
the motor with his head.

Yeah, it's too late.

Erm...

- Does that mean
he's not coming on, then?

Well, James, he's been
liquidised and now he's
all over the window,

so, no, he's not.

Yeah, he's not in the tent
so much as on it.

Yeah. Uh...

- What do we do next?
- We've got to do something.

Well, I'm gonna clean
that off, if you don't mind.

It is distracting
and off-putting.

How do we fill the time?

It's all right,
because I thought

something like this
might happen.

So when we arrived
last night,

I went out and I made
a little film.

Thank God for that.
What was it?

- Well, let's just...
- We'll cover this up.

I'd like to talk
to you now--

- No, we need
to tighten the shot.
- Good idea.

Tighten it on him.
Just our faces.

Concentrate on me
and what I'm saying,

and not on anything else

that you might be
tempted to look at.

Erm... Now, the Porsche 918,

earlier in this series
of programmes
we saw it in action

and proved that it is
the ultimate

of the hypercar Holy Trinity

when we put it against
the Ferrari and the McLaren.

But I've always wondered,

"How would it fare
in a straight race

against a Bugatti Veyron?"

And as we are in
the home of the hypercar,

this is the place
to find out.

Yeah. Now, tight on me.
Are we tight? Good. Erm...

This is, then...

This is a... It's a race

between the future
and the past.

Second time this evening.

Yeah, much like your film,

only this one is exciting.

So, here we are.

The grand old man
of performance

coming out one more time
to defend his title

against one of
the young upstarts.

Here's how it all
pans out on paper.

0-60, 2.5 seconds.

Power-to-weight ratio:

523 brake horsepower
per tonne.

0-60, 2.6 seconds,

but a power-to-weight ratio

of 535 brake horsepower
per tonne.

However, as we learned
when we raced the 918

against the LaFerrari
and the P1 in our first show,

hard facts like that
count for nothing.

In the end,
it's all down to this.

And I'm ready to race.

Actually...

Yeah.

Last bit of dead skin.

- OK.
- race mode.

Representing the future here.

I think...
if I can just stay ahead...

This is going to be so close!

The future is gonna take it!

So sorry, Veyron,
but your crown is gone.

Wow!

What a device this is.

I was gonna call it a day
at that, obviously,

but there's a bloke here
wants to race his Nissan.

It's a bit
embarrassing, really,

but you don't want
to upset the locals.

So, OK, race is on.
Here we go.

Let's get this over with.

Do race, apologise, move on.

What?

He's pulling away
in a Nissan Patrol!

What... just... happened?

So, hang on a minute.

At the beginning
of this series,

we bigged up
the hypercar Holy Trinity

as the three greatest cars

ever to have been conceived
and invented.

- Yeah.
- And the fastest
of all of them...

- Yes.
- ...was beaten
by a Datsun van.

Yes. Yes.

What the hell engine
did it have?

Well, it turns out
it's got 1,900 horsepower.

- What were Porsche
thinking of?
- I know.

Back to the drawing
boards, lads,

- and we'll gloss over that.
- Exactly right.

Your embarrassing
mistake, Porsche.

Now, I'd like to make
a confession, actually,
and it's this.

- I've never been able
to drift properly.

It's just...
I know, just ignore him.

Nothing to see.
Nothing to see.

Nothing to see here.

It's just a man doing his job.

I've never been able
to drift properly.

I can provoke a car,
you know, into a slide,

but I couldn't hold it there.

It would always just
spin off and crash.

No, exactly. I mean,

everything you've ever seen
in the past of him drifting

has been done with smoke,
mirrors, clever editing

and, let's be honest,
stunt drivers.

So I decided when we
started making Grand Tour

that I had to go out
and change that,

and learn
how to do it properly.

One option would be to go

to a supermarket car park
on a Saturday night,

but instead
I came here to France.

Specifically,
to the top-secret

Ladoux test centre,

where Michelin
develops its tyres.

There are several reasons
why I'm here.

First, they have the space.

Twenty-seven miles
of test tracks and skid pans.

Second, if you want
to understand drifting,

you have to understand tyres,

and this place
is a tyre temple.

Third, and most important,

if you want to know
about tyres,

you have to know
how to drift,

and that is where
this chap comes in.

His name is Jérôme Haslin,

and he is Michelin's
chief tyre tester

for BMW, Porsche,
Ferrari and Bugatti.

Rubber compound
runs through his veins.

He is a Zen master of grip,

a Kung Fu Panda of drifting,

and I am to be his new pupil.

This is what he means
by "over the limit".

He uses power to kick
the back of the car
out of line...

and then a delicate balance
of throttle and steering

to keep it there.

Your steering-wheel
technique is amazing.

I play a lot
with the gas pedal.

And if you work a lot
with the gas,

you have nothing
to do with the steering.

You can do all with one hand,
like this.

- So you're steering the car
with your right foot?
- Yes.

Jérôme, this is brilliant
that I learn how to do this

because you read those lists
on the Internet

of things that women
appreciate in a man,
don't you?

And there's always honesty,
integrity,

loyalty, fidelity, drifting.

It's always there.

On that note, it was time
for me to begin my lesson.

You can pull up the seat
more.

- More what?
- More close
to the steering wheel.

What are you trying to say?

OK. So, here we go.

Provoking oversteer, coming
off, and then feeding...

No, and then going round
in a small circle.

My challenge was to drift
the car for one complete lap.

Gas, oversteer.

- Release gas, counter-steer.
- Release gas, counter-steer.

- Oh, I've spun!
- OK.

Gas, gas, gas, gas!

Oh, bugger!

Soon, the constant spinning

started to have an effect
on my teacher.

A little bit more power. No.

Yeah, off the gas.

This is weird. I thought
this would be so easy.

- OK, is it possible
to take air? Fresh air?
- Yeah.

Because I will be ill
in two minutes.

Is this going badly?

While Jérôme went off to say
hello to his breakfast...

I continued plugging away.

Begin power and begin
counter-steer immediately.

Now hold it.

And soon,
it started to click.

What I am doing is drifting.
There's no denying that.

Oh, yes! Yes!

I've connected the steering
wheel to my feet.

This is a whole new feeling.

This is not reacting
to a slide,

this is deliberately
provoking it

and keeping it
right on the point.

Ha-ha, Jérôme, you French...

drift-and-ski-instructing
dude, you.

He'll be impressed with this.

And he was,

so we immediately progressed

to the next level.

Just before we start, Jérôme,

are you going to make this
look really annoyingly easy?

Yeah, you are. OK.

He did.

This is called
transitioning--

drifting the car one way
and then the other.

Get it right
and it's almost balletic.

That is beautiful.

From that to that,
seamlessly.

Which, sadly, couldn't be
said of what followed.

Brake!

Brake, brake, brake.

Oh, bollocks.

Does BMW know
we're using their car?

- I don't think so.
- OK.

Eventually, though...

Yeah!

Yes, that was a transition.

Your first.

By the end of the day,
I really had got it mastered.

I'd become,
for the first time,

a driving god.

It really is...

It really is the most
amazing feeling

when you get just the right
amount of power

to spin the back wheels,

but not so much that you
don't spin the whole car,

and you hold it on the edge.

No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
He came back from France,

where he'd spent one day

saying,
"Well, I'm brilliant now."

Yeah, well, I am.

Well, now, I'm sorry.

Hammond, it took me ten years

to learn how to drift a car.

- Mm-hm. Mm-hm.
- Ten--

But because I'm not an ape,

I did it in one day.

- You didn't!
- Well, I did.

Look, anyway,
it doesn't matter.

To find out
if he was a driving god,

Clarkson and I arranged
for Richard Hammond

to take part
in a drifting contest.

Yeah, we did. We fixed up
the car for him.

We fixed up the competitors.

We did everything.

This is the car.

It started out
as a Nissan 200SX,

but it's been fitted with
a 700-horsepower 6.2L V8

and a modified
steering rack,

so it can do this.

Its owner, a chap called
Steve "Baggsy" Biagioni,

said that, to prepare
for my competition,

I needed to put some melons
on a row of traffic cones.

What are we doing with these?

Can I put mine down?
They're really heavy.

Well, in a drifting
competition,

you have what's
called clipping points.

- Yes.
- So these would be

determined
points on the track

made by the judges as to where
they want to see the car.

- Our clipping points
are melons?
- Melons, yes.

My orders were to get

as close to the melons
as possible

without hitting them.

We're just gonna concentrate

on looking for the middle
of the track, yeah,

and aim the back of the car
near them melons.

OK.

Right, when you're ready,
go for it.

Bollocks!

Having not really mastered
this at all...

Oh, shit!

...it was time for the event

organised by Clarkson
and May to begin.

What they've done
is told me to report here,

Rockingham Raceway,

where they've arranged for me

to take on two drifters

in some competitive drifting.

The course was a series of
classic transitional bends...

strategically peppered

with the dreaded
clipping points.

Baggsy was on hand to explain
how the scoring worked.

The main thing about drifting
is that it's a judged sport,

and the judges have placed
the clipping points where
they want to see the car.

So that'll either be the rear
or the front of the car.

The closer you get
to the clipping points,

the more points
you're gonna get awarded.

But the key is
to not hit them.

If you can brush them,

you're gonna get
maximum points.

When I say "brush",

I mean don't knock them over.

If you can be

within half a metre,

you're gonna score high.

I'd also score points
for holding the car

in as impressive a drift
as possible.

You've got to keep
the throttle in

so that you maintain
the drift with good angle,

and that's only up to you
about how much steering input

and how much accelerator
you put in.

The cars are designed
to run at almost 90°.

They've got massive amounts
of steering angle,

so you can drive
on the end of your rack.

OK. So I don't get
awarded points

for how quickly
I do the whole thing?

No, that doesn't
come into it.

It's all about angle, line,

and how much
you excite everybody.

It's judged showing off,
isn't it?

- Basically, yeah.
- Yeah, OK.

As my car was prepped
for the big event,

the competitors,
organised by my colleagues,

finally arrived.

And they weren't
what I was expecting.

It seems James and Jeremy

want their old mate
to do well after all,

because, unless I'm mistaken,

it would appear
that I'm up against a child

and a man with no arms.

OK.

That's my competition.

With the judges in position,

it was time for
the contest to begin.

First up was
the disabled gentleman,

Bartek OstaBowski
from Poland.

The fact is, Bartek...

is deficient
in the arms department
to the tune of two.

When I say "deficient",
I don't mean deficient.

He... He has...

He has no arms... at all.

So, I mean, it's brilliant
that he's having a go.

Really, it's tremendous.

Bartek, who lost his arms
in a motorcycling accident,

overcomes his disability
by steering with his foot

and changing gear
with his shoulder.

And unfortunately for me,
he's rather good at it.

How is he...?

Good for you!

Really good for you!

Yeah! Good!

This was nice.

Out of a maximum
of 30 points,

the judges awarded Bartek
a score of 22.

And then it was the turn
of the child,

Conor Shanahan,
who's just 13 years old.

Here we go. Primary-school
drifting with Conor.

He'll go ten yards, get bored,

and start crying
for his mummy.

However...

Whoo!

He's 13! I mean,
he's five years off voting!

The judges awarded
the cocky little sh...

talented young man
a score of 27.

And then it was my turn.

Right, this is it.

My shot at glory.

Everything I'd learned

would be brought
into sharp focus.

Gas, gas, gas, gas, gas!

The key is to not hit them.

Here,
in the moment of truth...

I'm waiting for amber.
There it is.

Amber and...

Forward to glory
for Grand Tour!

Clutch kick!

Oh, shit!

Oh! And across the line!

Yeah!

Yeah, I clipped the flag.

That's probably
an extra point, I imagine.

Erm... I'll just restart,

because I wanted to stop
there for a minute.

Yep. Oh, I've stalled again.

Yep. Yep.

Thank you.

So...

Hold on.
What was your final score?

Two.

- Two?
- Yes.

You were useless!

No, listen, gentlemen.
Gentlemen.

I have to say, I'm delighted

that you now have, albeit
limited, drifting skills,

cos it means
I have a playmate,

as this short montage from
the last 12 weeks shows.

Yeah, you see?

Yeah. Yeah. On the edge.

Now, I admit...
I admit it's not...

It's not important work,
really.

No, we haven't actually
cured anything.

No, we haven't brought peace

to troubled parts
of the world or any of that.

No, but it is a job.

It is a job,
and we're very good at it.

- No, you're not
very good at it.
- We are.

No, well, I've got some items

from the unseen footage bin

that would suggest otherwise.

Unfortunately,
we don't have time for that.

Sadly. Cor, that's a pity!

No, no. You're wrong.
We do have time.

Who wants to see that?
Nobody.

OK. Let's roll it.

Here is Richard Hammond.

Can he contain
170 horsepower?

No, it would appear not.

Jeremy Clarkson,
Porsche 911 GT3.

Oh, there we go.
You see, I have actually
made a mess of that.

Yes, you have, and we saw it.

Richard Hammond negotiating
Your Name Here.

Your name, in this instance,

is Total Bell End,
it would appear.

Clarkson,
has he tamed the GT3?

No!

I've had an idea. Hold on.

I bet it wasn't this.

Watch this. Ready?

Never say that.

Even if you're just in
a four-door family saloon,

it's disastrous.

Right, Richard Hammond,
has he got it yet?

Yes, I think he has.
Yes! Yes!

No. No, he hasn't got it.

- I tell you what--
- Nobody's perfect!

- A couple of moments.
- Yeah, just two or three,
four, five.

Don't worry. Don't worry.

In the future, we'll just get

an armless man and small boy
to do those bits.

Shut up! Shut up!

As opposed to a fat man
and a small boy.

Anyway...

Listen, on that
terrible disappointment,

it is time to end
not just the show

but the entire series.

Thank you so much
for watching.

Thank you all for coming.

And we'll see you
later in the year

for more of this.

Take care. Goodbye.