The Ford Capri - A Memory Maker

Everybody Loves a Ford

I can't remember where I heard it first, but I know I've heard it plenty of times: everyone's had an experience of a Ford. The brand is so entrenched in British culture that it's impossible to avoid having been in one. Certainly impossible to have never been near one. Look out your window now - if there's not a Ford of some sort nearby, I'd be amazed. 

For different people, they mean different things. For my generation, the Fiesta is sacrosanct - tiny engined snot rockets they may have been, but there was no finer car for propelling giddy teenagers around the countryside or to school. Escorts took young families about their business for a spell, Escort vans get tradespeople around with room to spare. Cortinas were a source of pride, Transits have almost certainly delivered something to your house, GT40s will have wowed some (and irritated countless Italians), Mustangs were attainable dreams or hired to do the all-American road trip… and then there's the Capri. The UK's very own muscle car, albeit one that comes with mixed reviews. Depending on which corner of the internet you find yourself, it's a sainted beast never to be spoken ill of on pain of a lecture (with PowerPoint and LOTS of 'I think you'll find'), and others think it was a bit cack and call it the 'Crapi.' There is little in between. 

The New Electric Era

There's a new Capri now, and it's an electric coupé SUV that doesn't look too much like the original, but with the right boxes ticked, it'll outrun the car from the 20th century without much trouble. Underneath, you'll find VW's MEB platform and the bones of an ID4/5, vehicles not without issues. Still, with some Ford magic, perhaps the ID's underpinning can be brought out of its shell a touch. A few weeks living with it is just the ticket to find out.

Not just any few weeks, though - the time over Christmas. I didn't set out to use the Capri as a track weapon, or to do big skids, or… whatever, I wanted to use it as a family car. It did the basic stuff brilliantly - endless runs to Sainsbury's to get bits I'd forgotten to buy, jaunts across town to drop off (or pick up) presents, and other such fun. In Premium AWD spec with a 79kWh battery on board, I didn't worry about range. It can take up to 185kW chargers (AWD only), so if I did need to brim it, I could time it with a supermarket run and get some electricity while I searched, in true middle-class fashion, for frozen bao buns. 

Being a dutiful son, and as my partner and I were hosting our respective parents, the Capri was used to ferry retirees from place to place. Before London could fill itself with traffic on Christmas Eve, the Capri and I ventured to Cambridge to pick up my mum before heading home to drive my partner's parents from their digs nearby. On the motorway, it was quiet and comfortable, and its heated seats were most pleasant. The giant infotainment screen hides a cubby hole, which, when opened, is a neat dollop of surprise and delight for passengers (I stored a black pudding in there for a spell). CarPlay works wonderfully, and Chris Rea's dulcet tones filled the cabin and my heart with joy. 

"It's not like the old one was!"

When it came to passengers… "What is this?" Was the common question. "The new Ford Capri!" I'd jauntily cry, and, as the parents remember it the first time around (rather vividly in one case), there'd be a sort of huffing noise and then a comment about how it's not like the old one. They're right, of course, it's nothing like the old one. But we also don't smoke in offices any more, institutionalised sexism isn't actively encouraged (apart from by people you don't want to hang out with), and the average life expectancy is just shy of ten years greater now than it was when the Capri first came out in 1968. Despite its coupé-esque looks, the new car doesn't feel especially sporty - with 340hp on tap it's quick, but it's also heavy, which rather rules out heroics. It's not unexciting, but it didn't make me want to hoon around like a fool. Times change, and so do cars. If you don't like it, you can walk. Ahem. 

Being 'the most wonderful time of the year,' and to do something a bit different than simply binge food'n booze all day, I pressed the Capri into service for a drive around the city. I did it during the lockdown Christmas and seeing London at its barest is an otherworldly treat I wanted to share. 

Bleary-eyed, the parents all clambered in, and off we went to see the sights. Tourists spending the season in town were still there, albeit nowhere near as many as usual. The roads were quiet enough to not spike rage, and the whole place felt like… ours. 'Look at that… oh, isn't it pretty!' one would say. Another voice would marvel at how quiet it is. The Capri's panoramic roof meant that the three parents in the back could see Big Ben for a touch longer and gawp at the lights lining Regents Street. 

Everyone was comfy, no one complained of a numb bum, and only one thing stuck out as irritating - the front passenger seat isn't electric, while the drivers' side is. Most peculiar, but not the end of the world (that said, for £56,175 before options, I'd hope for two 'leccy seats up front). 

This all sounds very saccharine, but there's a point. Christmas 2024 was a baton pass - the kids were hosting, and the parents could have a rest (and a drink). We wanted it to be special and memorable. The Capri let us do that. It was a vehicle to make memories, to see the world a little differently. Yes, it could have been any five seat car, but we kicked off our Christmas in a Capri looking at a city at rest. And it was wonderful. Everyone's had an experience with a Ford; I've had hundreds, but this one will stand out as being pretty magical. 

words by Alex Goy
photography by Ford UK and Julia Riddle