Abbie Eaton Races Clarkson and Hammond in a Broken Old Renault | The Grand Tour

Well, May, what did you have in mind? I bought this Renault 9. The GTL. And Abbie is here to drive it. We drove 50 miles to a place called Paradise Garden... Why don't we go where we need to go? I just said we're going to Paradise Garden. -Well. -It will be fun. Abbie has a two minute lead. -You can't catch her. -Well... No way. -Two minutes advantage. -Yeah. And you think we won't catch her in 50 miles. -Does she drive that? -That doesn't look good. It wasn't very expensive. Start the engine, please. I see... Now we are the cigarette. -Are you ready? -Purrs like a kitten.

Three, two, one. Go. -Professional driver. -Yes, she is good. -You bought a dog. -He doesn't work. The James May experiment. Is a twin-turbo Aston Martin DBS faster than a rusty old Renault 9? Eighteen seconds. Don't seem too excited about this ridiculous escapade. Two, one, start. Let's start with this farce. And prove that James is crazy. The thing about a GT car with a lot of power is that it feels good, but it's not fast. All cars in the world travel at the same speed because speed is determined by external factors and not by the car itself. Traffic lights, speed cameras, other cars, pedestrian crossings.

There are all kinds of things that hold you back. If you have a powerful engine, you will get home faster at night and have more time for your children. This prevents them from becoming glue sniffers later. Soon we left the city and hit the highway. But there was a problem. There are radars every 100 meters. It's strange. But Abbie has the same problem. She can't escape it. But we're not going to reach it either, right? -No. But as we exited the highway, Hammond and I sped through the brown checkpoint. Abbie is a brilliant driver, she really is.

She is much better than me. But I have 14 times the horsepower. To get to her, all he had to do was reach for her. But that wasn't easy. Continuous line. I'm not allowed to overtake. We are behind a Lada. Oh God. A car is coming. Come on. Jeremy Clarkson is sitting behind a truck. Like me. PARADISE GARDEN The goal was close. When we reached the edge, Paradise Terrace, Abbie came into view. We knew we would win, but then it turned out that the goal was in the 14th century. Heavens. Narrow. Very closely. I don't know how much my carbon fiber spoiler costs, but it's probably a lot.

But Abbie wasn't worried about that. It was the sound of a crow rubbing a Russian stereo. That was not right. Hello. Hammond, I'm stuck. I'm going to look for another route. Is it really here? Now there is a lot of noise coming out of the trunk. In the meantime I had found a route that wasn't much better. Oh God. This is James May's ideal car race. I'm going six miles an hour. Meanwhile, he knew that he had lost, so he needed an excuse. I need the head. The hat. This is not for the Bentley. This is...Land Rover territory.

James May, you're an idiot. Update, there was a man at my window who took 30 units of currency and now I have this hat. Finally, Hammond and I found Abbie's winning Renault at the finish line.