LAST ONE STANDING?

When Renault unveiled the 30 in March of 1975, it was their first post-war offering with six-cylinder power and Europe’s first large executive hatchback. It is quite a challenge to convey just how exotic the first RHD examples appeared to the Great British public in the late 1970s. Just envisage the following scene – you are travelling to Fareham on a Woodbine-infused Leyland National when you espy a svelte-looking five-door saloon powering its way down the A27. The contrast between this Renault and the various various Commer PBs and secondhand Hillman Hunters is wider than the gulf between the Beatles and Britain Has A Dearth of Talent.

Nor should it be forgotten that the 30 made its bow in an era when anything out of the ordinary arriving in suburbia really did prompt a formation bout of curtain twitching, while certain parties would gather in a branch of Lankester & Crook to mutter about the Renault 30’s decadence. The electric front windows may not have prompted a re-enactment of The Wicker Man on the village green, but some