Top Gear

Tonight, Maserati brings some V8 thunder to our track,

Mercedes brings some smoke

and we wave goodbye to Saab.

Hello... Hello, everybody and good evening.

Hello and welcome - thank you so much.

We begin...

We begin with a letter - thank you, everybody.

It's from a Swiss gentleman and it says,

"Dear Si Appelli, Top Gear.

"You're more than halfway through this series

"and yet you still haven't raced a car

"against something that isn't a car."

He's right, we haven't - and we should!

As with our off-road scooters last week, this race will take place in Wales.

And this is the rally car we'll be fielding...

a Skoda Fabia Super 2000.

Last season, this car dominated the championship,

winning seven of the 12 rallies and locking out the entire podium

with a 1-2-3 on four of those occasions.

But although the car is clearly no slouch, is it any kind of match

for the non-car thing we've got lined up for today?

In fact, if I were the car,

I might possibly be weeing myself right now.

Because today, it will be taking on Yves Rossy,

the world's first jet-powered flying man.

Yves, I have many questions.

Starting with, what exactly is this thing?

That's a wing, and to push me in the air, four engines. It's very simple.

Four jets? Yes. And you steer just with your moves of arms and legs...

So you haven't got like, levers to control the...? Nothing.

The only thing is a little throttle that I have here.

That's the only thing that command. Well, look, all the best.

Mm-hm. I'll be on the ground. Yeah!

'And THAT brings us neatly to the actual driving of the car.'

Now obviously, I could take the wheel of that thing myself

and show that Swiss cuckoo clock some real talent,

but under the Top Gear apprentice driver training scheme,

I've agreed to let the guy behind me, Toni Gardemeister, cut his teeth on this one.

To be fair, he's pretty good already.

Finnish rally champion.

Many, many World Rally podiums to his name.

But still keen to get some tips from me.

So, let's see how this race will work.

This is the course the car will be racing around.

Eight miles of prime Welsh rally stage.

As the car sets off, Yves will climb to 8,000 feet in a helicopter,

jump out, and then follow the course from above.

Now, Rocket Man can travel at a steady 120 miles an hour

and we can't.

Well, I could, but I'm not sure yet about our novice driver.

Anyway, you might think because of his cruising speed, we don't stand a chance,

but there's more to it than that. At the end of the race, Yves has to land,

so he has to cut his engines, deploy his parachute

and all sorts of technical rocket-man stuff has to happen.

So, trust me, we're in with a shout here.

'And also, we will be busy covering precious miles

'whilst his chopper is still climbing to launch height.'

Just relax, Toni, I'm here if you need me.

Obviously, Yves could cut a corner up there, but don't worry,

we've thought of that - we've put a farmer out there

with an air rifle with strict orders to shoot him down if he sees any infringement.

That's FIA rules all sorted.

As the chopper lifted, the flag dropped.

We're off!

Oh-hoh!

Oh, my God, he's quite confident.

Ye Gods!

Yeah, just as you are.

We are absolutely monstering this course!

We've got 265bhp down here. Toni is using, I'd say, all of them!

Yeah - whoaah!

'However, as we passed the three-mile mark, Yves was ready to jump.'

He's jumped!

Engines are good.

Well, he's dropped, I can't see him out of the car.

'But somewhere up there, he was following our course

'and closing the gap.'

Aaargh!

Hello! Just concentrate! OK!

As a new driver, you get giddy, you show off and it goes wrong. Oh...

Up there, Yves is hitting speeds of 120, 150, 80 miles an hour.

In just, well, a lycra suit a small crash helmet

and a kitchen table on his back.

How the hell did I get mixed up in this? I mean, I'm just baggage now.

'Within seconds, Yves had caught up.'

There he is, there he is!

He's ahead of us, he is ahead.

Ow!

'As Yves streaked into the lead,

'we still had just under four miles to go.'

Aaaaargh!

In the air... Ooh-argh!

Ye Gods.

Right, OK!

'Up ahead, Yves's journey was, unfortunately, almost done.'

There he is. There's his parachute.

We've got to just take advantage

while he's slowing through the air to land. We've got to give it everything we can.

We've got about two minutes now. Absolutely...

This is going to be so close!

Oh, my God.

There he is.

He's behind the hill.

He's behind the trees, I don't know, he's not down yet.

We still have a chance here.

This is it. Where is he? Where is he? Is he there?

Oh no! After all that!

Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!

Don't blame yourself. That's the main thing, man - don't blame yourself.

You did a great job. Thanks for the guiding. I was there for you.

Thank you. I'm going to sit here for a little bit now, just...

You look a little bit dark now.

Yeah, do you know, I'm just going to sit here for a minute.

BLEEP!

Was that a bit scary? Yes! Very. It's so fast.

You said at one point, something was getting loose.

Yeah, me - my bowels, specifically! It was really scary.

But what gets me about Yves, flying, is there must have been

a first time he did that - you can't work up to being a jet-powered man.

You can't start with propellers.

Oh, no! So there must've been a first day.

He woke up one day and thought, right, it's today.

I'm going to jump off a helicopter with a kitchen table strapped

to my back and a couple of jets and I'm pretty confident I can fly.

Anyway, we must now do the news and we begin with this.

What is the worst thing in the world?

Trying on trousers.

He's right, actually. You're right.

But the second worst thing in the world is when you're going on a journey somewhere

and someone in the car says, "do you mind if we stop"

for some reason - "look, there's an ancient monument".

I don't want to look at that! I want to look at my friends who we haven't seen for five years.

You're absolutely right. There are some people

who stop on a journey at a motorway services to play a fruit machine.

Those people who say, "I need to stretch my legs".

If you're Alec Guinness and you've been in a box in a Japanese prison for six months, yes,

you need to stretch your legs, but after 30 miles in a car, you don't.

It's when people say they need to stop to eat. Why?

I can't imagine a journey long enough that means YOU will need refuelling.

Well, if you were driving from Cairo to Khartoum... Yes, but not in Britain.

If you're going from Leicester to Birmingham, you don't need food. You won't starve in that time.

No, and I'm glad you brought this up because this is where I'm going, OK?

One place I could never understand why people stopped at

was Little Chef, because what they did was they took ingredients

and then ruined them.

I once stopped at a Little Chef very early in the morning

and I said, "Could I have an omelette?"

The woman said, "No, I'm sorry sir, the powder hasn't arrived yet".

That's not a good sign, is it?!

I once dropped a sausage from my plate in Little Chef and it bounced.

They made it out of old squash balls!

The other day, we heard they'd shut getting on for half their outlets,

and we weren't surprised, but the other day we stopped at one that was still open.

I went in and this guy gave me a paper cup,

he said it's a casserole mash.

I thought, that's just going to be bits of placenta...

Oh, God!

Garnished with the chef's bodily fluids. Nice.

It was the second nicest thing I've ever put in my mouth. Second?

OK. It was brilliant. I loved it, to be honest.

It's because they've got Heston Blumenthal doing the menu.

Yes, he cut his teeth, didn't he, in Heston services?

BMW has sent us news of a new Mini. It's a concept, here's a picture.

It's a twee little van with "Buckingham" picked out

in old-fashioned sign writing and it looks like

the sort of thing we might have been driving just after we won the war.

Oh, for God's sake, please! Don't go there. Won it.

Don't go there. They've done this before, BMW.

A year or so ago they did a Mini, but at the back,

it had a wickerwork picnic hamper and a silver tea set.

The point is, we would like to extend an invitation to

people of Germany to come over here, not in a bomber...

Not all at once. Not in uniform, marching... And not at night.

No, not at night, but come over here as tourists

and we'll show you the Shard, for example, in London. Modern skyscraper.

We'll show you the Range Rover Evoque.

We'll take you to an Adele gig. Maybe not Adele.

Not if ITV are covering it, cos you'll just get that...

Then there'll be an advert for panty liners.

Germans need to come here, they really do - to come here

and understand we're not driving around in twee little vans,

tugging our forelocks at the squire any more.

They're obsessed with this, bless them.

They always say, "ve love your England, viz your tweed and your little houses mit-out electricity".

We should go to Germany with mullets and leather shorts

and wander about whistling Scorpion tunes and see how they like it.

Racial stereotyping - which we don't do.

News from the Continent! I've always wanted to say that.

"News from the Continent."

The French have announced that from July 1, you must, by law,

carry a breathalyser kit in your car.

You can understand the logic behind that

until you think about it carefully, and then there's a flaw.

You come out of the bar, you've had a glass of wine and you think, "am I OK for driving?"

You use your breathalyser kit, it says yes, you are,

but then you can't drive, cos you've used your kit.

It's a one-shot deal?

You'd have to walk to the chemist and buy another kit before you set off.

Don't they also make us carry warning triangles?

Yes, and in France, you've also got to carry a full set of spare bulbs and a high-visibility vest.