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.‘I’m just too busy to go away but I’m working on it,’ he says.Maybe it is as a result of there being no women on the factory floor.I dunno but I do know there is no obvious reason why the average Daihatsu is a whole lot more reliable than the average Eurobox.‘We don’t have hooligans,’ suggested one hopeful individual who helps make the cars, but I hardly think that all Rover SDIs broke down because they were vandalised on the production line.After the factory tour it was back onto the bus for a lesson in why Japanese interiors are so universally awful – have you seen the interior of the new Toyota Landcruiser? It’s disgusting.But it’s nothing when stacked up against that bus, which in turn was positively tasteful compared with the innards of a Japanese taxi – I’ve been in a Nissan Cedric and let me tell you that if it were fitted with a tachograph, the damned thing would blow up.They actually like crushed velour seats, antimacassars with scenes of Japan on them, swinging things on the rear-view mirror and gaudy striping to go with the fake stitching.And chrome.Oh boy, they can’t get enough of it.To complicate matters, they simply couldn’t understand why we all clutched our mouths and went green when presented with this sort of addenda.A problem here is that while they realise the British and the Japanese have different tastes, they seem to think we are like the Americans.I haven’t heard such a loud chorus of ‘Oh no we’re not’ since I was at a pantomime back in 1968.Funnily enough, Daihatsu are one of the better interior stylists.God knows how they do it.It’s hard, as I said earlier, to form cast-iron opinions after two days of fact finding, but certainly, the Japanese cannot be underestimated.We already know that a great many Japanese cars are equal, if not superior, to their European equivalents but this is not the issue here for a couple of reasons.Firstly, such discussions are getting boring now and secondly, Britain, at least, is protected by import quotas.It’s the latter point which is what I’m most concerned about and not just because every Japanese company, including relative minnows like Daihatsu, have either established some kind of assembly base in Europe or are about to do so.No, come 1992 when internal borders between member states of the EEC are broken down, the gentlemen’s agreement that currently limits Japanese imports to 11 per cent of the UK market will be worth less than a Lira.Daihatsu admit they expect to sell more cars in Britain after 1992.One day, someone is going to have to get round a table with the Japanese manufacturers to see what can be done; and I don’t envy whoever gets this job.He’ll feel honoured with all the bowing, he’ll be overawed at the politeness, particularly if he’s French, he might even feel sorry for them.Certainly, long periods of sitting on the floor will make him uncomfortable and, thus, he might concede more than he might otherwise.One thing, though: he must never be rude.I learned this by telling the driver of a Toyota Crown Royale that his car was very nasty.Luckily, we moved off before his verbal abuse turned into a full-scale kung fu demonstration.We must face facts.In ten years’ time, I shall be driving a Daihatsu Charade.If it’s the GTti, I won’t mind an iota.Clarkson on CarsPedal PusherIf the Queen were to have a sex change, one of your eyebrows might shift inadvertently upwards an inch or two.If Mike Tyson were to be exposed as a closet ballet dancer, the other would surely join it.If I announced I had bought myself a bicycle you would faint and probably die.The bicycle was not invented for people with beer bellies like barrage balloons and lungs like Swiss cheese.People like me in other words.Nevertheless, two weeks ago, in a moment of unparalleled rashness, I decided to invest in a three-speed Raleigh Wayfarer.This is why.Platform boots may come and lamps with oily bubbles in them may go, but the White Horse is here to stay.This drinking establishment situated in the heart of Sloanedom, on Parsons Green in south-west London, regularly takes in excess of £4000 a day.And much of this income is my personal responsibility.Since it became fashionable to drink there some six or seven years ago, a host of competitors have opened up, ranging from champagne bars to riverside inns to spit and sawdust pubs resonating with some of that renowned London character.But they’ve failed and you still can’t get a drink in the White Horse without queuing up for hours.Days even.Since I moved to Fulham back in 1984 I have lived within an easy stroll of this cultural oasis, this spiritual haven
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