Rubbish Cars We Love: Ford Capri Mk III – The Car You’ve Always Promised Yourself

Ford are no friends of this site. They make dull cars for dull people, and everyone mistakenly thinks they’re British (they’re actually American). However the Ford Capri Mk 3 is an exception to this rule. It’s our very own Mustang.

The Lowdown:

For some inexplicable reason Ford has never officially shipped their Bullitt (DVDs) Mustang to the UK. Even the current 2005 update is forced to languish around import bays as a left-hooker, with only a handful of right-hand drive conversions making their way on to M1 traffic jams.

Back in the mid-1960’s, when the Capri was first conceived, Ford wanted to create their very own European Mustang. They succeeded too, because the Capri would make even ice-lolly cool Samuel L. Jackson blow a gasket. The Mark 1 Capri screeched onto the UK’s still dreamily empty roads in 1967, but we’re most interested in the final production Mark 3. Why? ‘Cos you can still buy a half-decent one if you look around.

Interesting point of fact for pub bores, the name Capri comes from a gorgeous Italian island and should be pronounced with the emphasis on ‘Ca’ and not ‘pri’. Now you know and, quite possibly, now you care.

Hairy Chest Not Standard:

It’s a shame that these days the Capri can only conjure up images of seventies medallion men with a bottle of Le Piat d’Or under the seat to impress the ladies. Truth is that most of these guys didn’t actually drive a Capri as they couldn’t afford one. They wanted to, sure, but that’s because they loved The Professionals (DVDs). Back in the day anyone who worshipped a bit of mindless violence and overt stereotyping did too. Which in the 1970’s would include everyone but Harry Seacombe.

The Mark 3 Capri appeared in five episodes of The Professionals in total. Most memorably freewheeling across a golf course while fuzzy-haired Doyle (Martin Shaw) attempted to dismount before the brakes could take hold. Helped along with Lewis Collins as Bodie, The Professionals was bigger Saturday night fare than The X-Factor in its heyday. Simply seeing a Capri veer past the camera was enough to guarantee a sale. Ford, as usual, played this ace as green as James Hewitt on Celebrity Poker Club. They didn’t supply The Professionals’ producers with enough cars, or even the right ones for that matter, resulting in Triumph eventually getting most of show’s free adverting instead.

It Even Had Tartan Seats:

Some of the Mark 3’s did, yeah. You could even order smoker’s favourite JPS (John Player Special) bodywork colours straight from the factory if you wanted. Cancer was all the go in the early eighties, don’t forget.

Moving on from its previous guise the Mark 3 was quite an evolution. It had a rack of quad headlights fitted at the tip of an even more generously elongated bonnet, a classy-as-signet-rings plastic spoiler on the boot lid, and a smaller, sportier steering wheel. Little touches to supe-up an already sexy car.

We’re not doing the irony thing here. ‘Kev’s’ didn’t drive Capris until the end of the eighties, when the Mark 3 was launched it could still cut more than enough mustard on the pub circuit. Cancer and drink driving - twenty-five years ago even Clen Campbell’s road antics would have looked a bit wet.

Driving a Capri is the ultimate retro car experience. It handles like a slidy motorised skateboard, compulsive and as dangerous as Hell. The huge front-end screws up weight distribution, meaning roundabouts become ice rinks after just a light shower. Own a Capri in muddy Manchester and you could be dead inside a week.

Sounds Fun. I Want One:

Buying a second hand Mark 3 isn’t that easy, not in getting a decent one anyway. Your best option would be to refer to the many buyers guides dotted around the internet. But we can give you a little helping hand if you’re just after something able to take twelve stone rolling across the bonnet.

Rust, rust, rust, that’s your main worry. If a Mark 3’s been in a accident it’ll be covered in the stuff, so walk away before you get overexcited at seeing the word ‘Laser’ stamped on the boot.

Don’t bother with any engine less than the 2.0 or 2.8 litre. The 1.3 model was a bad joke to let milkman embarrass you on their morning run. The 1.6 ‘pinto’ was more pokey but offers nowhere near enough grunt against modern racers.

If you can pay over £3,000 then expect nothing but a near-perfect example with low-ish mileage (-70k) and some expensive history. If you want a furry-dice town cruiser for less than £700 then expect a little less.

Beware of clattery engines as they can mean a camshaft problem (say thank you and goodbye), again rust - apart from inside the filler cap, tailgate and such like - means it’s hit the side of a pillar box ("I’ve got your number, haven’t I?" then get going). Never bother with an automatic gearbox either, they’re all cack.

Got a Whistle Wetter?:

Yep, here on ebay, and it’s thoroughly deserving of further investigation. It looks rough enough to make the starting price of £200 believable. The seller’s ‘nearly a full MOT’ description is a bit of chin scratcher, but if you live anywhere near Hartlepool it’s at least worth a drive by. And this is a British site so that doesn’t mean shoot it full of holes, all right?

I’m Really Happy Now, Thanks:

You’re welcome; a Capri does that to people. Your mates will take the mick out of you, your partner will refuse to be seen anywhere near it, but we swear you won’t give a monkey’s. Grab yourself a Cult TV compilation, crank up Laurie Johnson’s Professionals theme on the stereo and enjoy the irony of looking like a prat in the coolest car ever made.

Ford sold the Capri as ‘the Car You’ve Always Promised Yourself’. It is, and for less than a thousand pounds you’re not worth that much either.

[story by Chris Laverty]