The younger guttersnipes among you might take one sneery look at this big old French saloon - a 2003 Peugeot 607 - and then run off screaming that you can smell wee. The truth of the matter is that the 607 is only one generation old. First appearing in 1999, it wasn't replaced until late 2010, and the 508 that followed it is still very much part of the 2020 Peugeot range offering.
Which is why, when Shed looks at the 607, he doesn't think 'relic'. He has a real soft spot for the 607, and it's not just because the '0' in the back-end badge doubles as the boot release (although he does like that). He likes it mainly because most normal people don't.
Murdering big French saloons has been a fashionable pursuit since the Germans first began to dominate the executive scene. The 607 was so roundly panned on launch that Shed was quite worried about going on the press junket when the invites finally reached regional, farming and veterinarian motoring correspondents several months after the big boys had had their go. He can't remember the exact details, in fact he only just remembers it being in France somewhere, but the general memory of the drive that Shed enjoyed back then still gives him a warm feeling whenever he sits in a 607 today. And that's nothing to do with incontinence. Well, not all of it anyway.
This particular example of the 'lion king', as Wiki would like you to believe the 607 was nicknamed, is running the 2.2 HDi DW12 diesel, a 16-valver that was brought in by PSA in 1998 to replace the much-loved XUD diesels. In 2006-on twin-turbo DW12B format it squirted out a punchy 273lb ft, but even in our single-turbo 607 it was a torquey (230lb ft at 2,000rpm) and smooth engine that got plenty of love from European taxi drivers.
Stretched to its limit, the 135hp 2.2 would hit around 125mph, but for Shed that's really not what it's about. He probably wouldn't take a 607 to that many trackdays. Rather, he is the kind of chap who can glean pleasure from the simpler things in life, like cruising serenely along sunny European roads with his loved ones and Mrs Shed. For that sort of trip he would happily take a 607.
With lots of leather and wood and an old-school French feel to the ride, a 607 is very comfy, good looking when painted in a strong colour, and well kitted up for a car of that era. You got a decent satnav, leccy seats (heated all round, even in the back), auto headlights and wipers, lovely light steering that was just the job for visits to the library or the mobility centre, and hazards that came on if you woke up with a start and had to slam the brakes on. You even got double glazing so that when that nice man rang up to try and sell you some you could say you already had it.
Okay, so 607s are not the roomiest cars ever made, unless you're a suitcase, in which case you would be more than pleased with your accommodation. And, like the suspension, the auto gearbox operates in an old-fashioned French way; it changes gears when it feels like it, not just when some filthy Brit might like it to change them. Why should we be in such a hurry anyway? Why not just let the car make all the decisions and do all the worrying for a change?
The diesel 607 has one slightly dubious claim to fame. It was the first car to feature a DPF (diesel particulate filter). Nowadays, of course, we see the DPF as the invention of an angry terrorist and far more trouble than it's worth, but back in 1999, before anybody really understood what they were, DPFs were techy and exciting. A bit like disc brakes on a Triumph TR4, or the automotive equivalent of a vape. On the 607, DPFs contributed to the general throwing about of electrical fault codes. So did the windows, the washers, and the tyre pressure monitoring system, another technological step too far for an old reactionary like Shed. Some passengers in early cars wished there was a little more padding in the electrified seats, and some owners would have preferred if the driver's door didn't drop on its hinges.
2019's MOT occasioned a little ball joint work on the front suspension, on one front wheel bearing and on the reinstatement of a corroded rear subframe. It went in for a new MOT last month, just before the lockdown, when it failed on a low-tread rear tyre and an incorrectly functioning rear seat belt buckle. Both of these were rectified on the same day to generate a shiny new certificate, and it's just had new front brakes too so you're good to go.
Clarkson said that if Peugeot found more than four real customers for the 607 in the UK he would eat his own knees. The fact that he is still walking, sort of, belies the fact that this car had no trouble attracting admirers in Grande Bretagne. Does it still attract them now, at £990 or a potentially considerably lower 'take it off me 'ands' type price? Well, for one man at least it does.
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