torque talk
A Gleaming Icon: The 2002 Jaguar XJ8 Polished Aluminium Saloon
A Gleaming Icon: The 2002 Jaguar XJ8 Polished Aluminium Saloon
A Gleaming Icon: The 2002 Jaguar XJ8 Polished Aluminium Saloon
by Lee Jones
During our recent Haddenham Classics trip to the British Motor Museum in Gaydon, I found myself strangely drawn to a car that seemed to defy the very concept of ageing. There it stood, resplendent under the museum lights, its mirror-like finish reflecting not just the room around it, but also the essence of British automotive ingenuity and what might have been. The 2002 XJ8 Polished Aluminium Jag. Not just a car, but a statement, a piece of art even.
But beyond its shimmering surface lies a story that spiked my interest and led to this article. It’s a story of not only innovation and ambition, but of a bold step into the future of automotive design. Let’s take a closer look at this gleaming Jag and explore why it remains such a standout piece in Jaguar’s history.
The shiny car’s debut: a car ahead of its time
Cast your mind back to the early 2000s, a fascinating period for the automotive industry. Manufacturers were grappling with the challenge of blending tradition with modernity, and Jaguar was no exception, often being surpassed by its German and Japanese rivals. Enter then the X350 series, the seventh generation of the now ageing XJ lineage, which debuted in 2002. This then was Jaguar’s answer to a rapidly evolving market, and was a bold one at that.
The X350 series marked a significant departure from its predecessors. This was thanks to its all-aluminium unitary construction bodyshell. Yes, Audi did it first back in 1999 with its polished alloy A8, but let’s not go there. This wasn’t just a minor tweak, it was an ‘up yours’ revolutionary move that redefined what a proper luxury saloon should be. To showcase this innovation, Jaguar created two pre-production models with polished aluminium finishes –
one left-hand drive and one right-hand drive, pictured here.
The polished aluminium XJ8 made its debut at the 2002 Paris Motor Show, where it stole the spotlight. Let’s face it, journalists and enthusiasts alike could not help but be captivated by its mirror-like finish, which highlighted the car’s graceful lines and showcased Jaguar’s engineering prowess. It said, ‘the British have arrived’, and to reserve a seat at the top table.
Engineering excellence: lightweight, luxurious and legendary
The decision by Jaguar’s design team to use an all-aluminium construction wasn’t just about making the car look good (though I think we can all agree it certainly achieved that). It was a strategic move to enhance performance, efficiency and longevity of a now ageing land yacht.
Weight reduction
The use of aluminium made the car significantly lighter and this weight saving translated into tangible benefits. The XJ8’s acceleration was blisteringly quick, its fuel efficiency improved, and its handling was more agile for a barge. It was like swapping a heavy overcoat for a spandex leotard – everything just felt more responsive.
A Gleaming Icon: The 2002 Jaguar XJ8 Polished Aluminium Saloon
A Gleaming Icon: The 2002 Jaguar XJ8 Polished Aluminium Saloon
Handling
The car was lighter and more nimble because of its aluminium body, and that made it a joy to drive on winding roads. Its double-wishbone air suspension system also further enhanced its ride, offering a blend of comfort and control.
Corrosion resistance
Guess what, in the UK it rains, but the Jag’s now aluminium body was resistant to the tin worm that plagued its forbearers, consigning them to the scrapheap. This Jag laughed in the face of rain and salt, ensuring the car’s longevity. But let’s not mention electrolysis!
The X350 also featured a silky smooth six-speed automatic transmission and a taller structure that increased its interior space, but without compromising its elegant proportions. Here was a car then that combined cutting-edge technology with timeless design – a rare feat at that time when it was all aerodynamic jelly moulds.
So what was it like to drive?
Unfortunately, I have no experience of driving one. But my research suggests that driving a 2002 Jaguar XJ8 was an experience that engaged all the senses. Slide into the supple leather seat, grip the leather-trimmed and hand-stitched steering wheel, catch yourself in the rear view and you’d have been immediately struck by the sense of occasion. You had made it big and you were a somebody! The cabin was a sanctuary of British luxury, with its mirror-matched walnut burl wood trim and meticulous attention to detail, this was a gentleman’s club on wheels.
Turn the key, and that 4.2-litre V8 engine woke with a refined growl, simmering down to a purr of contentment. Not aggressive, but rather a confident murmur that hints at the power beneath the bonnet, not unlike my Rolls Royce Silver Spirit 2. Pull away, and the six-speed automatic transmission would shift seamlessly, delivering smooth, effortless progress that a captain of industry deserved.
On the motorway, the XJ8 was a consummate cruiser with the air suspension gliding over imperfections in the road. Yes, roads did not have bomb craters back in those days. The cabin eerily quiet, allowing you to enjoy your premium sound system in peace, cocooned from the other peasants on the road. But it was on winding roads that your XJ8 truly shined. Because of its lightweight aluminium body and well-tuned suspension, this baby was a surprisingly agile car for its size. It would have felt planted and composed, with just enough feedback through the steering wheel before all the modern gizmos were introduced, to keep you engaged.
A Gleaming Icon: The 2002 Jaguar XJ8 Polished Aluminium Saloon
Now if you had a polished aluminium exterior like this one, you’d probably be pulling admiring glances from all, but likely as an industry exec, you’d have gone for a dark colour, to match your debonair image. But it’s the driving experience that would have left the lasting impression as you got to the office. The XJ8 was a car that rewarded its driver with a sense of connection and involvement, something that’s often missing in modern-day luxury saloons.
The polishing process: a labour of love
The mirror-like finish of the XJ8’s polished aluminium exterior is nothing short of breathtaking and no small feat. But that got me to thinking, how do you achieve this level of perfection? The process of polishing aluminium panels is incredibly labour-intensive, and would likely have taken hundreds of hours to complete.
Surface preparation
The aluminium panels would have had to be meticulously cleaned and smoothed to remove any imperfections, scratches, or oxidation. This would have involved a lot of sanding with progressively finer grades of sandpaper, a process that could take dozens of hours alone.
Polishing
Once the surface was as smooth as a baby’s bum, it would be polished using specialised compounds and buffing wheels. A step repeated multiple times to achieve the desired level of reflectivity. Each panel would have had to be treated individually, requiring a steady hand and a craftsman’s eye for detail. And you’d be well peeved if your mate Kev from the factory trimming department came in and lent on the car, while he told you what he did at the weekend.
Finishing touches
After polishing the surface, you’d need to treat it with protective coatings to prevent tarnishing and maintain its shine. This step is crucial, as bare aluminium can quickly lose its lustre if not properly cared for.
The result was a finish that looked like a gangster's ride! Highlighting the car’s graceful lines and showcasing Jaguar’s craftsmanship and at a time when money was tight, this was a testament to the brand’s commitment to excellence and its willingness to go that extra mile.
Pricing: then and now
When the X350 series was launched in April 2003, the XJ8 carried a price tag of approximately £51,500. That was a huge wedge back in the day, but adjusted for inflation, it is equivalent to around £85,000 in today’s money and just enough to pay your annual electric bill, for the EV parked on the drive. To put that into perspective, you could buy a top-of-the-range Jaguar F-PACE today for roughly the same amount.
Back in 2003 though, this pricing positioned the XJ8 competitively within the luxury barge segment. It was a land yacht that offered a blend of performance, luxury, and heritage that was hard to beat. Today, it’s a classic that represents incredible value for money, especially when you consider its unique place in automotive history.
Buying a used XJ8: what to look for
If you’re tempted to own a piece of Jaguar history, here’s my buyers’ guide.
Air suspension issues
Not surprisingly, the XJ8’s air suspension system is a common pain point. Air springs can leak, and the compressor can fail over time. Listen for unusual noises and check whether the car sits level when parked or sinks to its knees when it’s left overnight.
Electrical gremlins
Now I’ve had my fair share of these with my Roller, and Jaguars of this era are no different and known for their complex electrical systems. Issues with the infotainment system, window regulators, and central locking are not uncommon. A thorough inspection by a specialist is highly recommended, unless you want to give up a kidney.
Timing chain tensioners
The 4.2-litre V8 engine is generally robust, but its timing chain tensioners can wear out. Listen for a rattling noise on start up, which could indicate a problem, and then run for the hills!
Rust
While the aluminium body is resistant to rust, the steel sub-frames and suspension components are not. And so if you want to avoid buying a car more akin to a Swiss cheese, check these areas very carefully.
How much to pay
Top-tier, low-mileage, well-maintained examples, with a full service history fetch £15,000–£20,000. Mid-Range, solid cars that may require some minor work fetch £8,000–£12,000. A project car for the brave and budget-conscious would fetch £3,000–£5,000, but expect to pay double that and again, to bring it up to scratch.
Didn’t Audi get there first: the A8 silver car and German rival
While the Jaguar XJ8 was making waves with its polished aluminium finish, Audi had already brought the t-shirt three years earlier, with the Audi A8 ‘Silver Car’ that it unveiled at the 1999 Frankfurt Motor Show. This one-off concept was based on the first-generation A8 (D2) and showcased Audi’s aluminium space frame (ASF) technology. Like the XJ8, the A8 Silver Car featured a polished aluminium exterior, but it approached the concept with a more technical, precision-engineered ethos.
Key differences
Design: The A8’s angular, modern design contrasted with the XJ8’s timeless elegance.
Engineering: Audi’s ASF technology was more radical, using extruded and cast aluminium components for a lightweight, rigid structure.
Driving Dynamics: The A8’s quattro all-wheel-drive system gave it superior traction, while the XJ8 focused on a balanced, engaging ride, the A8 left it for dust.
Both cars were ground-breaking in their own way, but the XJ8’s charm was its character and set it apart as a true British icon.
Conclusion: a shining legacy
So was the 2002 Jaguar XJ8 Polished Aluminium Saloon more than just a car? Was it a symbol of a time when Jaguar dared to dream big? Well yes, it was, they don’t make them like this anymore judging by the new marketing. Here was a car that combined the cutting-edge with timeless design, that offered a driving experience that’s as engaging as it was luxurious.
Whether you’re a seasoned collector or a first-time classic car buyer, the XJ8 is a car that deserves your attention. Just be prepared to spend a shedload of time (and money) keeping it in tip-top condition. After all, as any British car enthusiast will tell you, the joy of ownership often lies in the tinkering.
So, if you’re ever at the British Motor Museum in Gaydon, take a moment to admire this gleaming icon as I did. It’s not just a car – it’s a piece of history, polished to perfection.
Holts Tyreweld review – a classic car enthusiast’s perspective
by Lee Jones
There’s nothing quite as deflating, literally and figuratively, as a slow puncture on a classic motor. And if, like me, you’re running some period tyres on less than perfect alloys, you’ll know the unique frustration of rim leaks. Not quite a puncture, not quite a blowout, just an insidious loss of air that leaves you topping up the pressure more often than you check the oil.
Enter Holts Tyreweld, a temporary tyre repair in a handy can that claims to get you back on the road without faffing about with jacks, wheel braces, or your roadside dignity. But does it actually work? I put it to the test.
What is Holts Tyreweld?
Holts Tyreweld is an aerosol-based emergency tyre sealant designed to reinflate and repair punctures, without requiring tools or tyre removal. Unlike the older-style tyre foams that leave a permanent, rubbery mess inside the tyre, this is a wash-out formula, meaning it doesn’t condemn your expensive rubber to an early grave. Once it’s done its job, the tyre can be properly repaired by a professional if required.
It works by injecting a latex-based sealant and compressed gas into the tyre, filling small punctures and re-seating minor bead leaks. Officially, it’s meant for punctures in the tread area rather than sidewalls or rim leaks, but in the spirit of all good classic car ownership, I decided to ignore the instructions and see what happened.
My experience using Tyreweld
My 1991 Rolls Royce Silver Spirit has tyres as soft and fluffy as a Marks and Spencer Victoria sponge. And as is often the case with ageing alloys, they’ve developed slow leaks around the rims, causing the front tyres to lose pressure over time. I’ve had the tyre boys look at them twice before and £30 later they were still leaking.
Rather than resort to tyre sealant beads or costly alloy refurbishing, I grabbed a of can of Holts Tyreweld (large size, for 16-inch+ wheels) and set to work in the pouring rain as you do. Officially, it’s one can per tyre, but being a bit of a cheapskate, I split a single can between both front tyres.
The result? It actually worked! The slow leaks have stopped, and the tyres have held pressure for weeks. No more morning rituals with the compressor. Impressive.
The catch – how not to wear Tyreweld
However, one minor gripe arose during application: if the tyre isn’t completely flat when you inject the sealant, it has a habit of blowing back down the inflation tube. The result? A fine coating of sticky white gunk all over your hands, shoes, and possibly a silhouette of you on the side of the car parked alongside!
I lost about a quarter of a can to the great tyre god of wastefulness, but even with only three-quarters of a can spread between both front tyres, it still did the job. That says a lot about the product’s effectiveness.
You also need to have a compressor handy in the boot if the tyre is already flat.
Verdict – a classic car toolbox essential?
Holts Tyreweld isn’t a miracle cure, and it won’t fix major punctures caused by potholes (don’t get me started there), sidewall damage, or properly warped rims. But if you’ve got a nagging slow leak and don’t fancy shelling out for a tyre shop visit just yet, it’s absolutely worth having in the boot.
Just make sure the tyre is properly flat before applying it, or wear gloves unless you fancy looking like a Starbucks cappuccino.
To drive or not to drive: The Great British winter classic car conundrum
by Lee Jones
Ah, the British winter. A time of festive cheer, questionable jumpers, and roads that resemble a third-world banana republic. For classic car enthusiasts, this season brings with it a dilemma as old as the Mk1 Ford Escort’s rotten arches: should you brave the salted roads and drive your pride and joy, or tuck it away in the garage (or under a cover) like a hibernating hedgehog? Let’s weigh up the pros and cons of both options, with a healthy dose of British humour and a nod to the practicality of owning a classic from the 1970s to the 1990s.
Let’s face it, your classic isn’t a museum piece (unless it’s a Capri with 12 miles on the clock, in which case, why do you even own it?). Cars from the 70s to the 90s were built to be driven, not to gather dust. Driving your classic through winter keeps the mechanicals happy, the battery charged, and the cobwebs at bay. Plus, there’s something oddly satisfying about cruising past modern cars in a vehicle that actually has character.
Okay, did someone say pass the salt? So salt is great on your chips but not on your classic. But if you’re diligent with your cleaning routine, you can minimise the damage. A thorough rinse underneath after a day splashing through the salty potholes will help keep the rust at bay.
Driving a classic in January is like turning up to a winter country ball in a kilt with nothing underneath – it’s ballsy, flipping cold, but earns you serious respect. Just imagine the look on your neighbour’s face as you fire up your MGB GT on a frosty morning while they’re de-icing their Nissan Juke.
But let’s not sugarcoat it. Even with the best cleaning routine, salt is a sneaky little blighter. It’ll find its way into every nook and cranny, and before you know it, your sills will be full of holes. If your classic is already a bit crusty, winter driving might accelerate its transformation into a pile of iron oxide.
And then there’s the issue of grip. Let’s be honest, finding winter tyres for a Citroen 2CV is like trying to find a sober person at a beer festival. Most classics weren’t designed with modern winter conditions in mind, so grip can be… questionable.
The Great British weather doesn’t help either. Rain, sleet, snow, and the occasional apocalyptic storm means your classic will spend more time looking like a muddy rally car than the gleaming beauty it is. And let’s not forget the joy of defrosting a windscreen at -5 degrees with no heated elements.
On the other hand, by keeping your classic tucked away in a garage or under a cover, you’re shielding it from the salt, grime, and general misery of British winter roads. Your car will emerge in spring with no rust and looking as fresh as Tom Cruise.
No need to worry about icy roads, frozen locks, or the existential dread of finding a pothole deeper than the Grand Canyon. Your classic can enjoy a well-deserved rest, while you sip tea and reminisce about summer drives when it did not require a second mortgage to fill up your car.
Let’s be real, classics from the 70s to the 90s aren’t getting any younger. By keeping yours off the road in winter, you’re preserving it for future generations (or at least until next year’s MOT).
But storing your classic for months on end can lead to neglect. Batteries go flat, tyres develop flat spots, and mice might decide your wiring loom is the perfect place to raise a family.
There’s nothing quite as frustrating as staring longingly at your classic while it sits idle. You’ll find yourself dreaming of the open road, only to remember it’s currently covered in slush and despair.
And if you’re lucky enough to have a garage, it’s probably already full of car parts, tools, and that lawnmower you haven’t used since 2003. Storing your classic inside might require a Tetris-level reorganisation.
So, what’s the answer? Well, it depends on your classic, your tolerance for rust, not to mention your willingness to brave the elements, and oh that line of credit you took out with the Bank of England. If your car is a solid, well-maintained example and you’re committed to regular cleaning, driving it through winter can be a rewarding experience. However, if your classic is prone to rust, it’s probably best to tuck it away until spring.
Ultimately, the decision comes down to this: do you want to be the person who drives their classic year-round, salt be damned, or the one who preserves it like a fine wine, only to be enjoyed on special occasions? Either way, just remember to keep the kettle on standby – you’ll need it after a long day of winter motoring (or garage reorganising).
Happy driving (or storing)!