We try to keep our group tests somewhat relevant, so it's not often that a Lamborghini Revuelto and a Skoda Superb meet on the same shoot.
But it eventually happeend because of logistical reasons, which led me to the delightful discovery that the two share a handbrake switch. We sometimes criticise expensive cars for using components from cheaper ones, particularly when it's in a prominent place and the part in question doesn't feel appropriate.
Fiat 500 door switches aren't a good look in a £200,000 Maserati Granturismo, for instance. But deep down, I love a game of parts bin bingo. In the case of the Lambo, the handbrake switch is hidden in the lower part of the dashboard, and it doesn't feel particularly cheap, so it's ultimately inconsequential that it's shared with the Superb, the Audi A3 and probably several other Volkswagen Group cars.
I actually really enjoy the instances when it's done well, when the borrowed part integrates so well into the rest of the car that it seems entirely bespoke. Take the upside-down Vauxhall Cavalier rear lights on the TVR Griffith, or the Pagani Zonda's gauge cluster that's actually a Lancia Ypsilon's with a swishy font.
With so much physical switchgear giving way to touchscreens, that sort of thing is much harder to find, and recognising the same software in a DS 9 as in a Peugeot 208 just isn't as exciting. Meanwhile, low-volume sports car makers, historically the masters of clever usage of parts bins, are fewer in number and higher in professionalism than they once were.
The Morgan Supersport I'm driving at the moment isn't as fertile a hunting ground as I had hoped. Sure, it has the obvious BMW gear selector and throttle pedal, plus a column stalk and shifter paddle assembly from a previous-generation Peugeot, but its lights and buttons are all bespoke. The traction control button even has a picture of a skidding Morgan on it.
Morgan used to have my favourite parts bin application: the inspired use of Lancia Thesis rear lights and Mini headlights on the Aeromax and its various descendants. I wouldn't be surprised if Lancia made more money from selling lights to Morgan than it did selling entire Thesises.
All is not lost for the keen spotter, however. Lotuses sport some very smart Volvo column stalks, and while the steering wheels in modern Bentleys and Aston Martins look bespoke at first glance, they reveal themselves to be Audi and Mercedes-Benz items in (quite a good) disguise when you look more closely.
What's pleasing about finding these shared parts, particularly across companies that aren't in the same group, is the sense of friendly cooperation. Morgan isn't going to steal sales from the Peugeot 308, is it, so why not let it buy some column stalks?
Even though these are there for all to see, it delights a car nerd like me immensely to be able to spot and recognise them. The joy of feeling like you're part of some secret society of component diviners is not to be underestimated.
