The Grand Tour (2016–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - Opera, Arts and Donuts - full transcript

Thank you, everybody! Hello.

Thank you.

Thank you so much!

Thank you, everybody.
Thank you so much.

This is The Grand Tour,

and this week...
we've come home!

We're back!
We're back in Britain.

We're actually in Yorkshire,
which is...

There you go.

Which is where
all three of us grew up

- Specifically
- Yeah, specifically... Whitby!



We're in the fishing port
of Whitby. There it is.

Now, Whitby, of course, is
famous all around the world

for its unbelievable
fish and chips.

With scraps.

You what?

Fish and chips with scraps.
You get scraps.

Little bits of batter that
stay in the bottom of the fryer.

-Yeah, scraps.
- No, they're bits.

- Fish and chips with bits.
- No, it's scraps.

It is bits! Bits!

Right, hands up for bits.

- Wrong!
- Scraps?

- See, it's scraps.
- Don't argue with me.

Because I was born
in Yorkshire.



Every single one of my family back
to the 17th century's from Yorkshire.

I'm the most Yorkshire person
in the world.

You know, it's funny, cos you can't
tell. You really wouldn't know.

- Yorkshire people are famous
for speaking their mind.

And when you... We...

We never know what you're
thinking. It's just...

What am I thinking now?

You're thinking
you're brilliant

and I'm an irritating
little short-arse.

- How did you know?
- Yeah, it's just...

- It's incredible!
- Yeah, I'm psychic, mate.

Other things Yorkshire's
cricket. That's not interesting.

Ooh, and then there was a TV show
called Last Of The Summer Wine,

which was about three
very badly dressed old men

who fell over,

and everything
they ever did went wrong.

- It was rubbish.
- Yeah, terrible.

I don't know why
that took off.

Erm... Carmaking?

Well, let's put it this way.

It's not exactly the Detroit
of the British Isles.

No, it's not.

But there is a lot of
motoring-related stuff here this week,

because we're in town.

So, let's get on
with the show.

Yes, let's.

We begin in Victorian times,

when James May
was a little old lady.

You see, back then,
gentlemen of means-

-Rich people in tweed suits.
-Yes, rich people in tweed suits

would take what was
known as the Grand Tour.

They'd go off
to France or Italy,

and they'd spend a few months
learning about culture

and wine and music.

Nowadays, of course,
everybody goes to Magaluf

and learns about beer
and vomit and chlamydia.

Yeah.

Now, we think
this is a real shame,

so Jeremy and I went off
to Italy

to do our own modern take
on the Grand Tour.

A wonderful,
inspirational journey

that not only gave its name
to this show,

but also to 1.000 GT cars:

grand tourers.

Our start point was the
Tuscan hilltop city of Siena.

Home to the most exciting
horse race in the world:

the Palio.

Look at that! Wow!

It was the beginning of
what would be a very fabulous

and very cultured journey.

We'd visit the magnificent
cities of Florence

and Bologna and Verona

on our way
to the finishing point

in the most magnificent city
of them all:

Venice.

The cars we'd be driving
were fabulous, too.

James had chosen
the Rolls-Royce Dawn,

a new two-door, drop-head
version of the Ghost.

And I'd be in the DB11,

the latest in a long line

of elegant and beautiful
Aston Martin grand tourers.

Even its door mirrors
are beautiful.

Its wheels are beautiful.

This is...

This is one of the most
beautiful cars I've ever seen.

Shame it's brown.

-It isn't brown!
-Yes, it is.

It isn't brown!
It's Sunset Orange.

It's not brown in the way
that my car is green.

It's brown.

Your car is a convertible
BMW 7 Series.

No, it isn't.

But is it
a 7 Series underneath?

-Bits of the floor panel.
-There you go.

?265.000
for a convertible 7 Series.

It isn't!

If you're going to drive
across Italy,

which we're going to do,
taking in some culture...

-Mm-hm.
-...that's what you need.

-A brown car?
-It isn't brown!

-It's brown!
-Look, let's not bicker.

Actually, on this occasion,
let's get on.

We are both
going to drive across

what is, I think, our
favourite country in the world,

enjoy some culture,
enjoy some fine wine,

some food, some art, some...

What was that?

-Is that Hammond?
-Sorry I'm late.

We didn't know
you were coming.

We rather hoped you weren't.

Well, I am, and look at
the car I've brought.

Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat.

707 American horsepower,

and enough torque to pull
that old building down.

Just...
That "old building" is a...

Oh, well, never mind.

Hammond, Tuscany, not really
the home of the muscle car.

Yeah, you see, I was worried you two
were gonna be all boring and serious.

And I am here to make sure
this trip is fun

because don't tell me the
original Grand Tour wasn't fun.

It was like an 18th century
Cannonball Run,

only with old-fashioned
morphine instead of cocaine.

This is gonna be brilliant.

What's with your advertising?

Well, because the Americans
used to do the Grand Tour,

and they used to get sponsors
to help cover the costs,

so I've got myself
some sponsorship.

What, Bobby's...
What is a grit?

That's a... It's a...

a bit left over
after coffee or potatoes?

-I don't know.
-Well, it's there.

"Rodeo Lube 'N' Tune."

"Lube 'N' Tune."
Yep, look at that.

The things is, people will
look at me in that

and know
I am on a Grand Tour.

You, they'll think, "What are
these two old farts doing?"

- Seriously-
- You have made no effort.

You haven't got into
the mood for this.

Art, music, culture.

- Refinement.
- Yes.

Is this something
to do with you?

Yes.
Yes, they're here.

These are my spare tyres.

Because on a trip like this,

in a car with that much power
and that much torque,

I am gonna get through
some tyres.

-Tree.
-Yeah.

That lot was not gonna fit in
the boot, or trunk, was it?

That is luxury!
That is grand touring.

Reluctantly, we agreed to let
our vulgar colleague tag along.

Ha-ha!

Hammond, you're deliberately
making an irritating noise.

Please stop it.

I am, yeah.

I will freely admit that Hammond's
Dodge Hellcat is a remarkable car.

It would be perfect if we were
at a tractor pull in Milwaukee.

But we're not. We're here.

And here in Tuscany...

...you need one of these.

This is the all-new
replacement for the DB9,

and it is the perfect car
for the job.

It even comes with
three running modes.

You've got Sport, Sport Plus,

and the one I'm gonna use.

GT.

Grand Touring.

Up front, there's a 5.2
litre, twin-turbocharged V12

which produces
600 horsepower.

And they are smooth
horsepower.

Dreamy horsepower.

In the fullness of time, you'll be able
to buy a cheaper version of this car

with an AMG V8.

It's all part of a deal that
Aston have done with Mercedes,

and you can see evidence
of the deal already.

This has got Mercedes
switchgear, Mercedes electronics.

It's even got
Mercedes sat-nav.

And I've got to say...

Aston Martin and Mercedes,

that is the best
Anglo-German marriage

since Queen Victoria
married Albert.

James, though, disagreed.

Actually, this is the best
Anglo-German marriage.

It's perfect, in fact,
because it has all the things

that we like to think of as
being Britishness in a car.

The sense that it was made
by men in aprons,

that there are craft skills and
traditional materials involved.

But then you've got the Germans
there, with their hi-tech

and their
manufacturing efficiency.

It's absolutely wonderful.

It's... It's very serene.

There are a lot of numbers
I could quote on this car.

You know, the usual:
top speed, power, 0-60.

All that sort of
irrelevant rubbish.

But I'm not going to, because
that would be, frankly, uncouth.

Oh, talking of uncouth...

I'll admit,
this is not a quiet car.

You've got that big bass
rumble and roar

from the 6.2 litre V8 HEMI.

And over the top, that shrill,
manic whine of the supercharger.

Neither is it a particularly
economical one.

At full chat, it'll chew
through its 18.5-gallon fuel tank

in just 13 minutes.

And, in fact, it needs so much air to
mix with all that petrol it's drinking,

they had to remove
one of the headlights

and replace it
with a ram-air intake

to feed air to the engine.

So they swapped its eye
for a nostril.

The upside of all this,
however,

is that it's extremely fast.

It'll do the standing quarter
faster than a Porsche 911 GT3,

but it costs, what, ?50.000?

You could have five of these for
one of James May's Rolls-Royces.

Oh, hello. This looks like
a tunnel opportunity.

Stop doing that!

That is a genuinely horrible
noise that Hammond's car's making,

and he just keeps doing it.

He keeps stamping one pedal, then stamping
the other one, in his binary style.

Sadly, the engine noise
wasn't the only irritation.

Is this just going to be a
tour of Italy's petrol stations?

Well, it depends how far apart
they are, doesn't it, really?

Look at it this way, think of
the snacking opportunities.

You've come to Italy
for food.

Yeah, but not crisps.

No, not crisps and hideous
sausages from America.

You don't know. It'll be different
in different petrol stations.

-It won't.
-It will.

Are there any Renaissance petrol
stations we could visit? Baroque?

No. Nor are there any Renaissance
sausage rolls in there.

For God's sake.

Having filled up his car,

and himself,
we were back on the road.

A quick situation update.

I'm driving through
sunny It-

Shut up!

Bad news, James. I'm afraid
there's a tunnel coming up.

Are you ready?
Are you ready?

Don't do it, Hammond. Just
relax. Enjoy a bit of quiet.

Stop it!

You have got to love that!

Soon, we arrived in the
Renaissance city of Florence,

a traditional stopping point
on the Grand Tour of old.

Architecture.

Opera di Firenze.
This is what we're here for.

This is why we're here.

Best of all, though,

James and I
had managed to lose Hammond.

He's really offending you,
isn't he, with his Dodge?

Honestly,
I wouldn't say this lightly,

but I have developed
a genuine, deep,

deep, heartfelt hatred
for that thing.

I can tell. You're going to go like Inspector
Dreyfus in the Pink Panther films soon.

You're not wrong.
I've developed a twitch.

When he comes near me and I'm waiting
for that stupid noise it makes,

my eye starts quivering.

It's like somebody
constantly being sick on you

while you're trying
to read a nice book.

As we were on our own,

Jeremy and I
decided to head for

the renowned
Uffizi Gallery...

where we would enjoy
a bit of peace and quiet

as we appreciated
its treasures.

Who's hungry?
Cos it's doughnut time!

Yeah!

You can have that one!

Put sprinkles on that!

Party on the hill in...
wherever we are. Italy.

Ya-ha!

Finally bringing some life
into this place!

After Hammond
had fitted some new tyres...

...James and I abandoned
our visit to the Uffizi...

and escorted him out of town.

Hammond, we could see
the smoke from your tyres

from the other side
of the city.

I know! I know!

Nobody in history has ever,

ever doughnuted
an Aston Martin.

Yeah, they're not
young buyers, are they?

No,
they're refined and cultured.

I envy you, Hammond, cos you
get to look at my Aston Martin.

-Yeah, but there's a big problem with it visually.
-What?

It's brown!

Sunburst Orange
is what it is.

Jeremy, I shouldn't worry.
We all know the expression.

Brown sky at night,
shepherd's delight.

That bloke's been done
for that theft, you know?

They caught him brown-handed.

I'm starting to imagine

what Richard Hammond would look
like without a head... or skin.

Once Hammond had finished
rubbishing the Aston's colour,

he started to challenge
its performance.

Hammond is driving along behind
me now like he wants to get past.

Stupid boy.

What is the top speed
of that car of yours?

199 miles an hour.

Exactly. This will do 200,
so back off.

Well, yes,
but it's 100 grand more.

That's a very expensive
mile an hour.

Rather than get into
a pointless war of words,

I decided
to put Hammond in his place

and invited him
to pull over here...

...at the Mugello race track.

Why have you brought me to
this not-at-all cultural place?

Because I want to teach him a
lesson about what real speed is.

But he's got
over 700 horsepower.

Yes, I know,
but you remember Jaws:

big metal teeth, huge man?

James Bond simply threw him
through a window,

and that's
what I'm gonna do to him.

- Do you mind
if I don't take part in this?

I'll do it.

So, as Hammond
had some new tyres fitted...

again, I took to the track
for some sighting laps.

Now, let's get one thing
straight from the start.

Aston Martins are not really
designed to do track work.

They're designed
to look good, and that's it.

Yes, the chassis on this,
the DB11,

was developed
by a former Lotus engineer,

but they actually told him

to tune it more for comfort
than handling.

That being said,

this has an aluminium chassis
and some aero trickery.

Air is sucked into holes
behind the rear windows

and then shot out of a vent
on the boot lid,

giving me
a sort of air rear wing.

Giving me grip...
a lot of grip.

And the traction control
is simply astonishing.

In most cars, it's like somebody
hitting you on the head with a hammer,

but in this, it's just going,

"Erm... Hang on, hang on,
hang on." There you go.

Bloody hellfire!
This is very, very good.

Certainly it's good enough
to be able to totally destroy

Hammond's idiotic Dodge.

This does not have
a magnesium roof,

carbon-fibre prop shaft.

The engine isn't made from
aluminium, it's made from cast iron.

And you get the impression they'd
have made it from stone if they could.

What it does have
is vast reserves of power,

and even vaster reserves
of character.

This thing is just hilarious.

Look at him
in his little brown Aston,

being all in control, and
just not having fun, is he?

I mean, what's the point?

Showboating.
Probably thinks I can't.

Well, I'm sorry, Hammond,
this is a 600 horsepower,

rear-wheel drive
Aston Martin.

So I turned
the traction control off,

and all hell broke loose.

It will do this all day.

Meanwhile...

One of the purposes
of the original Grand Tour

wasn't just to look at things
and learn about things.

It was also to enhance
your capabilities.

You would learn to do things.

You might do... I don't
know, writing sonnets,

playing musical instruments,
regional cooking, maybe.

I'm having a go at
watercolour painting.

It's absolutely delightful.

Apart from my reverie
is occasionally interrupted

by the... disgusting bellow
of Hammond's muscle car.

Mr. Hammond appears
to have organised a helicopter

to record the event.

Ha-ha, Clarkson!
Get past me now!

Smokescreen you.

What a moron you are,
Hammond!

Get out of my way!

This is not a particularly
cultural thing to do...

but it is very good fun.

Even though Hammond and I
were having a big smoky riot,

we'd learned nothing at all.

So we decided
to get scientific

and do a proper
timed flying lap.

This matters.

This is for Britain.
This is for Europe.

No silly business.

Let's just get round this
as fast as we can.

With the flying lap
completed,

we met to compare times.

-Go on, then.
-All right, then. Two...

-Yes.
-Yes.

18 seconds...

-18?
-Yes. Why, what have you got? What are you?

18. B-But...

-You're not making that up?
-No. Two minutes 18...

Ooh!

...point 79.

Oh, thank God for that.

I'm... It's crushing.
Three-five.

Well, it's hardly crushing,
is it?

-No, cos that's...
-I don't know why you accepted the challenge.

It's less then half a second
for your extra 100 grand.

Well, hardly a big gloat,
is it?

It's ?100.000 for half
a second and 1mph top speed.

240 years of independence and
that's the best they can do.

As Hammond cheered himself
up with some doughnuts...

...and then
another set of tyres...

...I went to join James.

Oh, shit.

Agh!

-Did you beat him, by the way?
-Yeah.

Good man.

As the sun slipped
behind the Tuscan hills,

we spent an enjoyable hour
or so painting.

But then...

Ooh.

What are you doing?

I'm defusing a bomb, Hammond.
What do you think I'm doing?

I'm baking a cake.

-It looks like you're painting.
-We are painting.

Hammond then decided he'd
like to have a go as well.

Right.

That one.

Mm-hm. Mm-hm.

Soon,
our art was finished.

I think I've rushed mine.

Still, could be worse.

It was difficult,
before I saw this,

to imagine anything more
hideous than the actual car.

But you've done it, Hammond.

It's the way that you've managed
to eradicate any sense of place.

Yeah, I know.

Your twitch!
He's twitching!

Even when he looks
at the picture of your car,

he's actually twitching!

All of the work...

All of the work that
Rolls-Royce put into that Dawn

to make it quiet and refined and sublime,
and all those things you'd expect,

it all counts for absolutely nothing
if it's anywhere near your Dodge,

because that's all
you can hear.

Do you know something
about that Hellcat?

OK, I've done
some research into it.

The Hellcat is based on
the old Chrysler 300C.

Underneath,
it's the same car.

And the 300C, underneath,
is a 1990s Mercedes E-Class.

So what Dodge
has done with that thing,

if they put 700 horsepower
in a 20-year-old taxi...

that's what it is.

Anyway, if you want
to listen to two old men

dribble on about music
and opera whilst I have fun,

there'll be more of that
later on.

But now it's time for us
to check our mirrors

and make a smooth left
into Conversation Street.

It is.

Now... I have to say,

James was very, very excited
about coming to Whitby,

because he'd heard that it's the
centre of the British jet industry.

He was very much
looking forward to spending

a couple of days looking at
old drawings of Concord,

but then he discovered that
Whitby jet is actually this.

It looks like coal.

-It is coal.
-Is it?

Thing is, though,
they've worked out...

Obviouasly, you can't
burn coal any more

because Al Gore goes nuts
and a polar bear falls over,

so they polish it up
and then say it's precious.

That's interesting, this,
cos I've got the blurb here

from Whitby's oldest retailer
of the stuff, and it says,

"Unlike other gemstones,

jet is actually
fossilised wood."

Yes, because unlike
other gemstones, it's coal.

Yeah, but...

-But it's...
-It's coal, isn't it?

Unlike other gemstones,
Hammond, it's a lot cheaper.

Well, yes, it would be.

Well, seriously, you can get
a jet ring, look, for 32 quid.

You get a sack of it
for ten quid. It's coal!

Thing is, though...

We were thinking
the other day,

you know carmakers now they
use bamboo, ash, walnut

and carbon fibre
to decorate bits of a car?

-Why don't they use jet?
-Exactly.

Anybody would like to have
some jet in their car.

Actually, we've been doing a little
bit of experimenting, Hammond.

I've made a prototype. This is
a gearstick with a jet knob...

...on the top.
It's brilliant.

I mean, it's not polished
yet, but you change gear.

It does make your hand
a bit dirty.

But, no, that's
a handy reminder. It is.

Exactly. No, you're absolutely
right 'cause you know,

sometimes you drive an unfamiliar
car, you're on the motorway

and you think,
"Oh, did I change into sixth?

Yeah, I did."

Here's some conversation...
for Conversation Street.

Erm... Bad news. There is a
problem right now in this country.

Not enough people are
learning to drive. Seriously.

In 2007, just over 16.000
driving tests were conducted.

Last year,
that had dropped to 4.650.

That is a true fact. In less than
ten years, 16.000 down to 4.000.

And I know why.

It's because kids
leave school these days,

they've no idea who Hitler
was, they can't add up.

They just know cars are bad.

cars are bad, cars are bad,
cars are bad.

Then, when they do get
out of school, after what-

after school's finished,

they go around and see
speed cameras, traffic jams,

signs saying "Please don't overtake
cyclists" and think, "What's the point?"

"No point learning to drive.
I might as well just use Uber."

Exactly.
If I were a carmaker,

I would be fighting
like a Kilkenny cat

to make sure every car I made

was as interesting
and as amazing as possible.

But instead... Renault,
they give us the KADJAR.

How many children...

How many children will say, "If I
work really hard and do my homework,

one day, maybe,
I can have a KADJAR"?

Cos that's the car
they grow up seeing.

Worse still, Nissan Juke.

-You really hate the Juke.
-No, I hate it.

-No, he genuinely hates...
-No, I hate...

I object to it existing. It
shouldn't exist. I loathe it.

On the motorway, you
see them with their stupid,

like, double bug eyes.

Smug little...

If I see one, I'm mad.
I can't help myself.

And it's cruel, and I'm
sorry if you're in one.

But I do, I see them.

"I hate..."

He does. I was driving along
with him the other day...

I was busy
telling him a story,

and he was looking out
the window going,

"I hate you! I hate you!"

I hate them.

What's the most boring car
on sale in Britain today?

That's a good question.

Brown Astons!

Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!
- Who said that?

Get out. Get out.

Security, kill him.

"Brown Astons" my...

I tell you what, if I were
the boss of Volkswagen,

I'd go and find the
man who did...

What's that tall Golf called?

Oh, the SV.

SV, that's it.
The one that's like a Golf,

but for people who have
stovepipe hats.

And I would bludgeon him
with a tyre iron.

"Why did you do that?
Nobody wants one!"

Just to be fair, I think VW have
bigger concerns at the moment.

OK, I want to talk about
the Oxford Ring Road.

I know it's miles away from
here and from anybody watching,

but the thing is, OK,
for the last two years,

they've been working on
shrinking - slightly shrinking -

two roundabouts and putting
some traffic lights up.

Now, do you know how much
the budget was for that job?

Er... Two roundabouts, ten grand a
roundabout. I'd say 20 grand overall.

?9 million.

-Million? Nine million?
-Nine million.

Can you imagine the builder's face
when he came out of that meeting?

"They're gonna give me
nine million quid

to shrink a couple
of roundabouts!"

Well, that's why it's
taken him two years.

He had to make it look like
nine million quid's worth.

"Really difficult."

This is not a word of a lie.

?9 million will buy you
a 30.000-square-foot house,

OK, like this.

That is a nine-million-quid
house to build.

You can have that or two shaved
roundabouts... for your nine million quid.

No. No, actually. No.

Because - and this, again,
is not a word of a lie -

a few months ago,
builder man -

and it must have been a bet -

he went back to the council
and he said,

"I need another
million quid."

And they paid?

And they paid! They paid!

He probably shuffled in.
"I broke me spade."

"Another million?"
"Yes, of course. Happy to."

Can I be cross for a moment
with BMW?

It'll be difficult
to stop you. Yes.

The thing was, last year
they introduced this.

They showed...
They went, "Look at that."

And everybody went,
"That is fantastic!"

It's an homage to the old
CSL Batmobile from '72.

Everyone was going,
"When will you make it?"

"We're not. It's just to show
you what we could make."

Why did they show us?

- Just don't do that!
- Yeah, exactly.

Actually, no,
it doesn't matter,

because they've come up
with something else instead.

This look.
This is actually an homage

to the original 2002, which is
the old car on the left,

and that, I think,
actually looks pretty fab.

-It does. Are they gonna make it?
-No.

Well, why show it to us,
then?

"Look what we could make
but we're not."

It's a good job BMW don't run
the emergency services, isn't it?

"Oh, look! You have drifted a long
way from shore there, haven't you?

We could drag you back
behind our speedboat."

"Will you?" "No. No, we just
wanted you to know that we could."

What they're being
is prick-teasers.

Oh, you can't say that.

I don't think
you can say that.

I'm not sure
you can say that.

Can you say "prick-tease"?

- A cock-tease!
- Is it allowed today?

"Cock-tease"? That's no different.
You've just changed the name!

It's a different way
of saying "prick" or "dick".

You could have said "penis
tease". It doesn't matter!

Conversation Street's
taken a really bad turn.

The point I'm trying to make
is BMW must stop doing that.

Whatever... Whatever it was.

Now, if we had
a Grand Tour medal,

and we don't, but if we did,

I know who the first
recipient would be.

Cos we heard this amazing
story the other day.

You know speed camera vans?

Sit at the side of the road,
blacked out windows,

civil servant sitting inside
watching YouPorn. OK?

That's what it is. Waiting
for someone to trip his camera.

Now, someone, the other day,

snuck up
behind the speed-camera van,

quietly undid
its number plates

put them on his own car

and drove past
at 100 miles an hour.

I mean... literally
the funniest thing ever!

Well done, you, sir.

Top work.

- Absolutely...
- I love that.

That is top, top work.

Can I talk about
the Alfa Romeo Quadrifoglio?

-No.
-Why?

Because we've got to get
back to our film.

Tonight we are on
a Grand Tour of Italy.

There's James
in a Rolls-Royce,

Jeremy in an Aston Martin,

and me in a Dodge Hellcat
with two trucks full of tyres

so I can do doughnuts
whenever I want.

Yes, and we pick up
the action on day two

of what was becoming,
thanks to him,

the journey from hell.

As the sun rose
over the silent,

misty Italian countryside...

OK, let's get these out.

...and Hammond
extricated his entourage

from the hotel car park...

...James lowered the roof
on his Rolls-Royce.

-Morning.
-Morning.

That is the "silent ballet".

-There's nothing silent about your lorries, Hammond.
-No, not those.

That's how Rolls-Royce
themselves describe the roof

going up and down,
in this, look.

-What, "silent ballet"?
-"Silent ballet", that's what they say.

They also talk about "the Dawn
provides an erotic tingle on the skin."

-Whoa!
-This is all their words.

-Actual Rolls-Royce...? -This is
their words. Yeah, this is their bumf.

They also say, "The car is a
contemporary take on the casino lifestyle.

It is intended to attract...
people."

-What sort of people?
-People...

People who put
their seatbelts on?

Exactly, people who put
their seatbelts on and off

and relish both freedom
and sophistication.

-"Casino lifestyle"?
-Casino lifestyle.

What?

Can we go?

Have you got
your seatbelt on?

We then set off

and decided to do a bit more
road testing of our cars.

I began by talking about
the Aston Martin's interior.

On the upside,

Aston Martin have reprogrammed
the Mercedes electronics

so the warning beeps and
buzzers are now less... Germanic.

If you don't put your seatbelt on,
for example, you get a discreet cough.

A...
...rather than a klaxon

and somebody shouting,
"Achtung!"

On the downside
is everything else.

Er... The centrepiece of this
dashboard here looks like a...

How can I put this?
...like a lady part.

And then the door lining
here, well, it's just hideous.

It look like a footballer's...
kitchen worktop.

It's annoying, cos Aston have done such
a good job with the rest of this car.

I was staggered

by how good it was
at the track yesterday.

And yet, they've let it all
down with this ghastly interior.

In the Hellcat,
Hank J Hammondberger

hadn't noticed the quality
of the fixtures and fittings.

He was too busy
playing with the toys.

Oh, now, look at all of this.

Timers, gauges...

Oh.

In my performance mode
screen,

I can measure G-forces,
braking distance,

reactions times,
quarter-mile timer,

eighth-of-a-mile timer,
lap history.

It's brilliant!

Irrelevant twaddle.

"Irrelevant twaddle."

Oh, I've just seen
my average MPG.

What is it?

6.6.

Six miles to the gallon?

I like to think
of it as a healthy appetite.

How many miles to the gallon has your
Rolls-Royce been doing, James May?

15.7 in the last 48 hours.

Mine's been doing
21 miles to the gallon.

That's cos it's boring and
that's because it's brown!

Oh, no.

And, with that,
the road test ended

and another day of
Hammond-based irritation began.

It's orange!

You join us
at another petrol station.

I don't need any,
but guess who does.

This car is excellent
for ornithologists.

It's so quiet going along here,
I can listen to the birdsong.

Hello, James.

Oh, for God's sake.

Party button!

Stop doing that!

Stop it!

Go away!

I genuinely am worried about the
sanity of Chief Inspector Dreyfus.

Many frustrating miles later,

we reached the next stop
on our Grand Tour:

the region around Modena,

which is home to three of the
world's greatest carmakers.

And, while Hammond sped off

to give his cultural take
on Lamborghini's history...

Oh, my God.
That is pure filth.

...James and I went off

to buy
a goodbye present for him.

I think scissor doors
actually make me horny.

And when he'd finished
his Brian Sewell routine...

...we met up to hand it over.

We have had it done for you.

-It's brilliant!
-I know.

It's in the style, actually,

of an 18th-century Italian
artist called Pompeo Batoni,

who made a pretty good living

out of painting visiting
Americans on the Grand Tour

and making them
look like refined,

cultured English gentleman.

Yeah. Think of it
as a souvenir of your trip.

Thank you. Except a souvenir is
what you get at the end of a trip.

-Yeah, exactly.
-Erm...

While Hammond struggled to
get the painting in his car

for the long trip
back to England...

Er...

...James and I set off alone
into the glory that is Italy.

Oh, my word.
Look at that view.

Holy moley!

That evening in Verona,

we dined well at a
Michelin-starred restaurant,

and then we went to see
something called Carmen,

which wasn't at all
what we were expecting.

He hasn't gone home, has he?

The next morning,
we were up at first light

to attempt another escape.

James... that's his room.

This has a quiet-start facility on
it, but I don't know how it works.

Push it.

I could... It's really quiet.

You start...
You'll be all right.

Don't bong!

That's amazing, isn't it?

That's firing
80 times a second, roughly.

Ah, no noise.

I can just drive out of here.

Oh, hello! Car trouble?

- Yeah.
- Typical Aston, you see!

It's broken down.

You haven't got long
to get it going

cos I'll be down again in a
second, changed and ready to roll.

Ya-ha!

Whilst Hammond was upstairs,
chiselling off his sweat...

...James and I
made a run for it.

And, in case he caught up
with us on the motorway,

we took some precautions.

This is the work of a genius.

We are now protected
from Mr Hammond completely.

James's head was a bit of a problem
with this plan, but we've solved it.

Don't worry if you don't
recognise me, viewers. It's me.

The question was, would
Richard Hammond recognise him?

Here comes Richard Hammond.
Just look straight ahead.

Look straight ahead.

And the answer was...

Not looking.

Oh, God. He's waving at me!

Well, he's clocked us,
hasn't he?

I think you're better off getting
stone chips than looking like that.

Mayday. Mayday.
I'm disintegrating.

Whilst James
unwrapped himself

and Richard filled up
through his ruined present,

I had another brainwave.

I'm gonna lead him into
the centre of Vicenza, yeah?

Yes.

I've sent out a tweet,
and I put this on Facebook,

saying that Richard Hammond will
be appearing in the main square, OK?

-Yes.
-So he gets out.

-He's mobbed.
-Yes.

-We scarper, OK?
-Very good. I like it.

-Have you done it in Italian?
-Yes.

Oh, good. Only thing is,
I've made a slight mistake.

I have said here that
Richard Hammond will be -

I wanted to say "appearing" but
I've put "exhibiting himself".

Well, it'll get a crowd.

Back on the move,
I put my plan into action.

I thought we'd turn off
the motorway here, Hammond.

Vicenza's got
a doughnuting area in it.

Has it?

Yeah, no old statues.

There's Starbucks,
McDonald's, Dunkin' Donuts.

I'm right, aren't I, James?

I think they've got an American
football team, haven't they, in Vicenza?

They have,
the Vicenza Red Bears.

OK.

We'll have
a little mooch about.

Soon, we were approaching
the centre of the town.

I just need a crowd
big enough

to keep him occupied
for 20 minutes.

I don't know how many people
will have read my tweet.

A couple of hundred.

I was nearly right.

Oh, my God.

This has gone really wrong.

-This has gone so spectacularly wrong.
-Jeremy!

Oh, my word!

Hello. Is there an event on?

It's Mr Hammond
you're looking for.

Mr Hammond is in the Dodge.

Oh, this is unnerving.

Is it always this busy here?
What's going on today?

Look at that, we're free,
and Hammond is stuck.

Yes. Yes.

We're out.

Hammond is doomed!

He's doomed!

Leaving Hammond
in what he thought

was the muscle-car capital
of Italy...

They like a rev.
They do like a rev here.

...James and I
headed out of town.

Right, good.
Venice, 23 miles away.

I think it's fair to say

that this entire trip
has been a total disaster.

But the Aston Martin has been
the complete opposite.

It was much, much better than I
thought it was going to be on the track.

It's staggeringly civilised
and quiet on the road.

It really is a superb
grand tourer,

and it is achingly pretty.

Especially with this
beautiful orange paintwork.

Jeremy may have been
won over by his brown Aston,

but I was truly smitten
with the Rolls-Royce.

What is it about
a Rolls-Royce?

A lot of people would say
this isn't a car-lover's car.

It's not sporty,
it's not dynamic,

it doesn't have modes
for you to set.

You can't even change
the gears.

You can only put it
in forward or reverse.

And yet, I think this is a
car for people who love cars,

because it gives you an entirely
different driving experience.

There is no other car that's
quite like a Rolls-Royce,

no other car that cossets you
in the same way.

This is a car
that is kind to you.

I think it is actually impossible to
be unhappy if you're driving this car.

And look at what
I've had to put up with:

Richard Hammond
and Richard Hammond,

Richard Hammond,
the Dodge Hellcat,

Richard Hammond, the Dodge
Hellcat, and I'm still happy.

As we arrived in Venice,
we were in good spirits.

And, the next morning,

we did
what all our predecessors

on the Grand Tour
would have done.

We took in the sights
from the water.

It's so nice without Hammond.

Dinner last night...

Nice to order food without somebody
going, "Have you got any chips?"

Yeah. "Where's the ketchup?"

He is never, ever going to get
out of that square. I mean never.

I assume he's been crushed to
death by now, or torn apart.

Have you seen that?

-Yeah.
-What a moron.

An inappropriate
brown powerboat.

Orange.

Is that allowed round here?
I'm surprised, actually.

Lads!

What a yob. I thought
his Hellcat was bad.

Hammond, no.

That's really inappropriate,
Hammond. Don't do that.

This is very wobbly.

Don't...
Don't do that, Hammond.

Yeah!

Who's hungry?
Who's for doughnuts?

Hammond, stop it!

Whoa!

Yah! Water doughnut!

Stop it!

Hammond! Hammond!

What?

Grand Tour. We can
do it again next year.

Next year?
Do it again next year?

Not only
did you knock us into

the sewage-infested waters
of Venice...

you cut the present
we gave you in half.

No, hang on a minute.
No, it was only like

a two-piece jigsaw puzzle, and
I put it back together again.

Look, there it is.
See? Perfect.

-Hammond?
-Yes.

Art galleries
do not saw artworks in half

just to get them
up the stairs, you moron.

Anyway, listen,
before we move on,

can I just say something
about that Aston Martin?

Not to wind you two up.
I genuinely mean this.

It's an amazing car.

I know the steering wheel
is square.

-And it was brown.
-Yes.

And I know the interior
wasn't very nice,

but, genuinely,
it's affected me.

It's been living up here
ever since I got back.

And talking of up here,

it's now time to play
Celebrity Brain Crash.

Yes, it's time
for a top celebrity

to try their hand at our
fearsome test of skill,

co-ordination
and observation.

Now, so far,
I should explain,

no celebrity has actually
made it to the tent.

No, they've all died.

Yes, but our fingers
are crossed for this week,

because our guest
is a huge star.

You'll have seen him
in Mission Impossible,

Star Trek,
Shaun Of The Dead, Hot Fuzz,

and he's here to talk about
his new movie -

Spielberg movie -
Ready Player One.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we've got Simon Pegg!

And there he is.

There he is, ladies and
gentlemen, with his Cornetto.

Always a Cornetto.

He's battled aliens,
he's battled zombies,

he should have
no problem at all

with a short stroll through
this pretty little town.

Of all his films,
it's Paul that I like best.

-I think that stands out.
- Paul was the forerunner of Ted, really.

-It was.
-It was first. It came first.

Hot Fuzz. It's Hot Fuzz for me,
just because of the fight scenes.

There he is.
He's on the bridge.

- It looks like he's being
hassled by seagulls.

They're after his Cornetto,
I think.

Yeah, they're after his...
Oh!

Oh!

Oh, God.

There's literally
nothing we can do.

We're gonna get a reputation.

Does that mean
he's not coming on then?

Well, James...

...he fell into the harbour, and the icy
North Sea waters are now filling his lungs.

It's a no.
He's not coming on.

Oh, God...

Well, look, I...

-Oh.
-I anticipated something like this.

-Did you?
-Yes.

And so I prepared something else
we can do to fill the time.

It's this. You know Google have been
trying to build a self-driving car?

For seven years
they've been at it.

We've got a picture of it.
It's absolutely hideous.

I was thinking,
"Well, how hard can it be?"

Oh, God.

Ten days ago I thought,
"I'll give it a bash", okay?

And I've already finished it.

-Have you?
-Yes, it's here.

-Is it?
-Yes, it's here.

Let's bring it out.
It's phone-operated.

-So, erm... Hang on. Just set...
-What?

No, here it comes.
Right, forwards.

Forwards.

Please try not
to be distracted

by the harrowing scenes...
of...

Left, left. Straight.

...the harrowing scenes
of Simon's lifeless corpse

being fished
from the harbour.

I know that's upsetting
for some people.

Right, we need to make a bit of
a a hole in the crowd back here,

cos I'm gonna bring it
into the tent studio

so you can see
how brilliant I've been.

Forwards.

- Really?
- That is brilliant!

-It's...
-Cheer, everybody.

Left. Left. Left.

-It's hideous!
-Left. Forwards.

-It's... So, hold on.
-Stop. Stop.

It's not brilliant.
It's hideous, is what it is.

How can you say it's hideous?

I've copied Google's
styling completely.

Is that a septic tank?

Yes, it is.

Cut in half, and then
I've mounted on the top

this chaise longue,

so the owner can recline
in great comfort.

Yeah, yeah.
How does it actually work?

Brilliantly. Down here, a
very small little camera.

That feeds a view of the road
ahead to the system inside.

-What system?
-Well, there's a bonnet here.

Come round, I'll show you
the... the gubbins. Ready?

There it is.

Well, it's just a man!

-It's just a man in there!
-It isn't.

It is!

No. No.

It's not just a man.
This is a Romanian man.

I am providing employment
for newcomers to our country.

-Oh, God.
-What do you mean, "Oh, God"?

Think about it. Google, yes?

Google, they use electronics
to take away the work of a man.

This gives him a job,
it gives him dignity.

-Dignity?
-Yes, dignity.

It's a bit feudal, isn't it?

It's a bit brilliant is what
it is. Let me close the bonnet.

I'm gonna go for
my first-ever drive.

I'll go to t'foot
of our stairs here,

which is a Yorkshire
expression.

The great thing is, it's so easy
to get in and out of, you know.

Look, there I am.

-Now I don't need the phone. I can use my speaking tube.
-Oh, God!

There's a man in there!

What's Romanian
for "backwards"?

Înapoi, I think.

Înapoi. It is, obviously.
It's bilingual.

This is evil!

Google hasn't made it work,
I have.

Îna... Backwards.
I'll just stick to English.

Backwards. Backwards.

Thank you so much.

British engineering,
ladies and gentlemen,

with Romanian parts.

What a combination that is.

Shit! Ah, my head!

Yep. Whatever.

-Anyway, I'm glad he's gone.
-So am I.

No, I'm particularly glad
because of what's coming up next.

Oh, yes! Yes. Now, right at
the beginning of this series,

Jeremy Clarkson said, when we
were at a race track in Portugal -

and he said it
on the television -

that if his McLaren P1
wasn't faster

than Hammond's Porsche 918
or my Ferrari The Ferrari,

we could
knock his house down.

Well, it wasn't,

so, one weekend when
Jeremy was away, we...

Well, roll the tape.

This is it,

200 years old and built from
beautiful Cotswold stone.

Now, I want to make it
absolutely clear

that this is Jeremy
Clarkson's actual house.

Yeah, it really is. I'd swear
to my children's lives on that.

It's Jeremy's house. He bought it
when he fell in love with the view.

It is a lovely view,
actually.

It is. It'll be even better
soon, without a house in it.

Our plan
was to smash the place down

with some big
demolition equipment.

But there was a problem.

In this country,
you can't knock a house down

if the council find evidence
of bats living in it.

Well, they did,
and now we've been told

we've got to take the roof
off, quietly and by hand,

to give the bats the chance
to go and live elsewhere.

James, I can't help but notice
I am doing all of the work here.

Yeah, you're gonna
have to. I don't like it.

It's just a ladder! It's a simple
enough thing to operate. Climb it!

Not if you're me, it's not.
How many bats are there?

-One.
-One?

-Yes, a bat.
-Just kill it.

We'll go to prison, mate.
We can't.

Just because that little
winged-mouse bastard

is hanging upside down in there,
feeling smug with himself

cos I'm up this ladder, we
can't knock the house down?

We've got to do it, no choice,
so get up here and get on with it.

Hammond, I hate... I hate
heights. You know I do.

I hate ladders, I hate bats.

Many hours later,

and with no help at all
from Spider-Man,

the roof was finally off
and the bat was free to move.

But would it?

Why doesn't it go and live
in there?

Because, let's be honest,
that's perfect if you're a bat.

Yeah, well, it might, but
it's got to decide to do so.

-Can we encourage it?
-Yes, James.

Why don't you go and stand in that barn
and squeak in a sultry and erotic manner?

That night,
Spider-Man stood in the barn,

squeaking in a sultry
and erotic manner...

...and the bat
eventually succumbed.

So, the next morning,
we were ready to go.

This thing really works!
This rocks!

Oh, my word!

At this rate, we'd be done
and dusted in no time.

However, my finickity
colleague had an issue.

-Hammond!
-What?

-Stop!
-What?

Stop! You don't just
smash it to pieces.

You're supposed to dismantle
it and leave it in neat piles.

It's got to be tidied up.
You can't leave it like that.

It's actually quicker
if you do it methodically.

Oh, God.
Only you would say that!

You want neat piles of bits
that can be carted away.

You need to work on that bit
and that bit to start with,

then the rest
falls neatly into a heap.

How can you make
even this boring?

It's not boring. It's the
way... I've watched it done.

That's how you do it. You
don't just smash it. I'll do it.

James then commandeered
my machine...

so I got another one
and carried on regardless.

And bang!

Ah! I've got it!

Oh, it's like winning one
of those things at the fair.

Thanks to me, at least,
progress was being made.

However...
I'm stuck on something.

Oh! Oh, I've broken
my digger. Oh, dear.

With me out of action
and James achieving nothing,

a new approach was needed.

But first,
we had to clear the site

of Jeremy's
most treasured possessions.

Shakira.

Shakira.

Shakira.

Oh!

That is a... strong image.

It's a tiny doll with pins
in it, and your face.

Look, this is his photo album.
It's probably really precious.

-Oh, it's a bit disturbing.
-What?

-They're all of me.
-Yep.

At this point, we decided not to clear
the site of his treasured possessions

and moved swiftly to plan B.

Short ceremony,
say a few words?

Nah.

- That...
- That got it.

Done.

So, let's just get this
straight.

You blew up...

that picture of me
on the horse?

-Yep.
-Yep.

Yep.

And on that terrible disappointment,
it's time to end. Thanks for watching.

See you next week.

Good night!