Wolseley 1500

Britain says no to fancy EU cars, and yes to the Wolseley, which goes from 0-60mph in a leisurely 24.4 seconds.

The post-Brexit poster boy, the Wolseley 1500.

I feel like such an idiot. For 20-odd years I have been foolishly, as it's turned out talking about cars from exotic places such as Germany and Japan. I've spoken breathlessly about turbocharging and exciting new lightweight materials. And I've tried to bring to life what it's like to drive a 700bhp Ferrari on the Transfagarasan Highway in Romania or a promenade in Paris.

Stupidly, I believed that you might be interested. I thought that, thanks to social media and cheap airfares and exotic new takeaway restaurants, I was speaking to an audience that was sophisticated and international. Broad-minded.

Global. But it seems I was wrong.

The Brexit vote has shown me and everyone else in the sneering metropolitan elite that, actually, Britons want to live in a black-andwhite world with Terry and June on the television, pints in glasses with handles on the side, prawn cocktail chips, powdered coffee and no one speaking bloody Polish on the bus.

You weren't remotely interested in torque-vectoring differentials or sat nav systems, because you only go to Bridlington once a year and you know the way already. So you don't need some electronic German barking orders at every roundabout.

You want it to be the 1950s all over again, because Britain was great then, apart from the lung diseases.

You weren't interested in buying a Renault, because it's bloody French.

And you were never going to buy a Fiat, because it's bloody Italian. What you've always wanted is the postBrexit poster boy, the Wolseley 1500.

Compared with the modern-day equivalents from abroad, it's not very fast. It goes from 0 to 60mph in a leisurely 24.4 seconds, but the top speed is 78mph, and that's plenty because 70mph is as fast as you need to go here on this, our fair and sceptred isle. Obviously, the Wolseley would be a bit out of its depth on a German autobahn, but you don't care about that because you aren't going to Germany any time soon.

By modern standards the handling is extremely poor. The steering wheel is connected to the front wheels by what feels like a bucket full of rapidly setting cement, and there are alarming levels of lean in the bends.

The car was painted in a fetching shade of grey; the seats were made from leather and the dashboard from wood, which is entirely right and proper. Around the doors were strips of red velvet, which gave a very regal feel, and that's what you want. The car smelt of home. By which I mean it had the aroma of a headmaster's wood-panelled study. There was that familiar fustiness, caused possibly by the carpets gently rotting after they'd soaked up the tears of all those abused pupils. Those were the days.

I eased the MG gearbox into first, and off we set into the Brecon Beacons, which are more beautiful than anywhere else in the world.

Apart from Bridlington, obviously. And soon, in my wake, there was a lengthy traffic jam made up of various foreign vehicles. The Wolseley is not even on nodding terms with speedy, as I've said, but that's OK. Why do you need to get anywhere quickly?

And, anyway, there's so much to enjoy from behind the enormous wheel of this fine British motoring car. There's an indicator stalk with a green blinker light on the end. Not sure that green is the right colour, mind. It's a bit Muslim. But the switchgear had that reassuring feel we crave. The wiper knob, you just know, was attached by a man with a Birmingham accent who was wearing a brown store coat and loved Harry Worth. Which is probably why it came off in my hand.

I was going to say that the 1.5-litre engine pulled well in a high gear (fourth), suggesting that it had good torque. But torque sounds French and is therefore not a word that we should be using any more.

After a couple of miles I tried to pull over in a lay-by to admire the view, but the weakness of the brakes — which are basically milk bottle tops — meant I missed it completely and ended up in a Costa Coffee car park several miles further down the road.

This is how life's going to be. It's what more than half the voting public want. The country as it used to be.

FAST FACTS

WOLSELEY *

1500 MK 1

ENGINE: 1.5-litre four-cylinder petrol (32kW/96Nm) Average fuel 8.1 litres per 100km

TRANSMISSION: Four-speed manual, rear-wheel drive

PRICE: On sale 1957-60; seen online for $6000-$8800