I’m sure I speak for many when I admit that this week’s Pill had me at “Capri.” But, trust me, this gets better. Ford’s blue-collar coupe has been on a long journey when it comes to the emotional responses it triggers. It started out aspirational when it first arrived in 1968, a European mini-Mustang much more fresh and exciting than the Cortina that lurked underneath. But by the time the Mk3 version finally died in 1986 it had already become many people’s epitome of automotive naff, a role that continued for at least another two decades. 

In popular culture, this critical passage was marked by the roles the Capri got cast into in different TV dramas. There was the handbrake turning, bonnet-sliding cool of the twin 3.0S-es that elite CI5 operatives Bodie and Doyle drove in The Professionals. Then there was the knackered Mk2 that features in the opening credits of Minder, Dennis Waterman’s Terry character then driving a succession of banger-grade examples during the show’s long run. But the Capri’s true nadir has to be the luminous green ‘Pratmobile’ that Del Boy buys in a later season of Only Fools and Horses, a car more tragic than the famous three-wheeler. The Capri had turned into a well-pummelled punchline.  

Not any more. As nostalgia drives prices ever higher the joke is on those who laughed too hard, or sold one cheap. I’m a one-time member of the club; at the ripe old age of 18 I bought an ‘X’-reg Capri from auction for the princely sum of £15, or £65 after fees. This had two months of MOT remaining, various dents and a strange aroma in the cabin which turned out to be the remains of a mouldy takeaway in the centre console (I drove with the windows open.) 

My Capri’s boot lid claimed it to be a 1.6 GL, but a more knowledgeable mate reckoned it had been unofficially upgraded to the more potent 2.0-litre Pinto. Even with only 100hp it certainly span its rear wheels with enthusiasm in gravel car parks and on damp roads. I had two weeks of dicey fun it it, discovering the joys and perils of power oversteer, then put it back through the same auction, where it sold for £25. 

These days even low-spec Capris in need of TLC are into five figures, with the more desirable V6-powered versions often going for serious money. At the moment the cheapest in the Classifieds is a low-mile 1.6 Laser from 1985 up for £12,965, the most expensive a 585-mile 2.8 Injection Special at £71,195. But most V6s are in the £20s, £30s and £40s – and seemingly selling at that to judge from turnover.

Which is a long run-up to making the case that this monstrous V8 version is less expensive than it might first seem. Yes, a £45,000 asking price is obviously chunky for a car that Capri perfectionists will likely look down on for being non-standard. Yet anybody contemplating a similar project from scratch would need to spend a significant percentage of that figure just on a base car, especially as it this one started life as a 2.8 Special with the rare option of the more muscular ‘X Pack’ bodykit.

It’s also had a huge amount of money lavished on it. The advert variously quotes £80,000, £70,000 and “in excess of £60,000” for the costs involved. The difference seems to be between the amount laid out by the original builder – who sold it before it was finished – and the more recent costs of getting it completed. Recent spend includes a glass-out respray into red and the rear spoiler, it was previously green. 

Our Pill’s biggest and bravest modification is the fitment of a 5.0-litre Windsor Ford V8, reworked with competition cams and an Edelbrock quad-barrel carb. This is reportedly good for 350hp by itself, but clearly wasn’t enough for whoever created it, because it also has a Nitrous Oxide kit capable of adding another 150hp to the output. Given that the standard 2.8 Injection was under 1,200kg even with the weight of the bigger engine this one is probably still most of the way to having 400 horsepower/ tonne when the NOS is flowing.

Reassuringly there have been plenty of other modifications, highlights including a Quaife limited-slip differential, coil overs at each corner and upgraded brakes with four-pot calipers up front and rear discs in place of the standard drums. Equally impressive is the attention to detail in keeping the Capri looking close to standard, even if it definitely won’t sound that way. The X-Pack arches are relatively subtle, much more so than the optional faired front end they were often combined with, but which this car doesn’t have. The non-standard wheels are obviously different, as is the ‘5.7 Injection’ sticker on the tailgate, but the overall effect is one of enhanced muscle rather than steroidal aggression. 

It is the same inside, with a reminder just how shades-of-grey the cabins of late Capris were. The restoration has wisely kept the car’s original Recaro seats, always one of the star features, these bringing matching mini-buckets in the back. But apart from the chunkier-than-standard selector of the Tremec five-speed gearbox – and the huge NOS bottle in the passenger footwell, the rest of it still seems close to standard. As you’d expect, as with almost every other surviving Capri, it also boasts a set of retro-kitsch furry dice dangling from the rearview mirror.

The MOT history includes a clean pass in April and confirms that mileage has only gone up very slowly. The Capri had recorded 51,600 miles at the time of its first digital era pass in 2015, with this having increased at almost exactly a thousand miles a year since then. 

Considered purely as an investment a little-used late Capri V6 would undoubtedly make much more sense. But doing that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as this spectacular creation, one that will make a whole generation of wistful petrolheads jealous whenever it rumbles past.