Smooth operator…
If you’re not likely to put your foot down often, a Vanden Plas is probably the best Maestro in the real world. You get lovely wood cappings, leather trim if you go for a later one, or a digidash if your favoured variants are pre-84. Power steering was a later option, and automatic transmission was available for those who like myself prefer the lazy life.
Some readers may question my logic in reviewing this car in addition to the MG1600 and 1.6 Mayfair, but trust me on this. This is a nearly mint – save the signs of an attempted theft six months ago – original low mileage car in a nice colour scheme and the right spec. Indeed, it’s last owner had an agreed valuation of £1400 placed upon the car. Bought by Oli South late last year with a suspected seized engine for just £50 – the owner needed it out of the way – the car had nothing wrong with it upon closer inspection. The engine was seized, but in a display of what must have seemed like idiocy at the time Oli stuck it in gear and let the clutch in sharply whilst being towed – on the basis it was going to need a new engine anyway it was worth trying to free off the existing one, and the gamble paid off.
So a mint Maestro Vanden Plas – with a four figure agreed value – for fifty quid. This warranted further investigation. Five minutes after I asked to see the car, Oli and I got out of his 620 in front of a row of nondescript lockups about six miles from his house – I have outlined the man’s driving style on these pages before. Strolling to the one on the far end, which he then opened, Oli revealed a slightly dusty Maestro Vanden Plas. Getting into it – via the passenger door due to the way it was parked in the garage, he brought the car forth into the daylight.
And it’s not bad. The winter last year had taken it’s toll upon the rear arches and the offside rear door, but the rest of it was in quite good shape. The interior, especially, was mint – I suspect the rear seat has had just two occupants and then only because we sat there whilst discussing the car’s history.
This car has a manual gearbox, no power steering, and a previous owner had converted it to manual choke also. Yet despite these spec failings, I was interested enough for a quick spin.
I got to sample the car from a passenger’s perspective first as Oli hadn’t driven the car himself in a while. It’s refined, comfortable, and I enjoyed the ride. From the drivers’ seat it’s as pleasant as I remembered Maestro 1.6s as being – torquey, smooth, and with a gearbox that divides opinion. When it works, I’m in favour of the VW box – but I’d still rather swap to the PG1 fitted to later 1.6s and all 2.0 cars. The lack of power steering in this example didn’t pose a problem – it felt a tad heavier at low speeds than the assisted Mayfair I’ve drive, but when moving there was very little in it between this and that Mayfair – the steering is pleasantly weighted without being unduly heavy. On the run I offered him what he paid for the car, as despite having nowhere myself to store it and scant funds with which to run it, I like Maestro VPs and this is a very nice example. He turned to me, and smiled “I’ve no intention of selling it yet, but if I ever do I’ll give you a ring – I’d rather it went to a good home than get top dollar for it and risk it being abused, and I know you’ll look after it.”
There are many people out there who don’t ‘get’ Maestros – who would question my love of them and laugh at the frequency of their appearance on these pages. Even my mate Mark – former owner of an MG EFi, a Turbo, and that car’s saloon sister the MG Montego Turbo – upon finding out I was known in Club circles suggested I keep it quiet. But those of you who understand my love of the Maestro will know why I’d rather like a phone call from Oli telling me he wants a change from F200FNB. It’s an utter cracker.
