After 25 miles of red-line motoring, the news from the Up! still wasn't good.
I've managed to average 23 miles to the gallon.
I've got to get that down. How do I get that down?
Right, the drag is now dramatically worsened.
Meanwhile...
I am feeling a bit sick now, if I'm honest.
Oh, is that a police car? Oh, dear.
There's the horrible evidence.
At a quarter distance, 25.5 miles,
I should have lost one of those four bars that I started with.
But it's not happening.
Come on, petrol! Sod off.
Okay, we've been pulled by the police.
They were wondering why I was zigzagging.
They're talking to the camera car in front.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting here at max RPM
to try and use some fuel while I'm stationary.
Whilst Hammond was deafening the police,
I pulled over to disable my engine management system.
How about that? Engine warning light. Yes. That's what we want.
So, what the engine has to do now is assume
a sort of worst-case scenario, because it doesn't know anything about itself,
so it'll assume it's very cold, the fuel quality is bad,
so, it must be less efficient.
Thirty miles from Chernobyl, all our cars were still running
and we were trying every trick in the book to make them conk out.
Look at that for drag, now.
Brake... then accelerate.
Then brake, accelerate.
Still got three bars! Come on!
There it is, 17.8 mpg! Oh, my fuel light's come on! Oh, yeah.
I'm doing 21 miles to the gallon. I'm not doing well enough!
Everything's on empty. The needle, on empty.
Come on, run out. Run out.
It's one degree out there. Nipples are sticking out badly now.
Ah! I believe this is Richard Hammond.
This thing should not be moving.
I'm going! I'm going! I am going!
Don't tell me you've run out.
Yes! Yes!
Oh, bliss! It's gone!
-I don't believe you. -It...
I don't believe you. Sit rep.
Richard Hammond is a... [bleep]
Go on. Go and meet your fate.
The un-turbo-charged Up! continued onwards and then...
Oh, wait a minute. What do we have here? Some kind of checkpoint.
The barrier marked the start of the 30km exclusion zone...
and now I'd have to go through it.
So would James.
But who would film what happened afterwards?
-Three main cameramen. -Yeah.
They're getting in a taxi and going back to Kiev.
-What? -They're not going in. There they go.
So, we're filming the most dangerous thing we've ever done with two...
I don't want to be rude, but camera assistants?
-I actually want to thank you. -Yeah.
Thank you very much. You're very brave. You're promoted official cameramen.
I know you want to get on in the world, but this is a bit much.
Those of us who were going in made their preparations.
Right. Air on recirc. Vents shut.
Geiger counter... on.
That really is a Geiger counter and it really is going tick, tick, tick.
The cameraman is having to film us from the back of a Land Rover, as usual,
but with the door closed.
Normally the tailgate is propped open.
There's something like 17 tons of radioactive waste
still in the exposed reactor core.
They're building an enormous sort of arch, really,
over the entire site, which will seal it off,
but that is not finished yet.
With eight kilometres to go, I had started to beg.
Run out. Run out now.
But it didn't.
That needle is definitely moving.
Now it had become imperative we didn't run out
until we were well past the reactor.
There it is.
That is the remains of reactor number four.
This is unbelievable.
I wouldn't want to appear to be gloating at a time like this,
but I do still have two bars of fuel left.
I didn't.
Oh, my God! Don't stop now.
And as a result, I was in serious trouble.
This is where the people who worked at the nuclear facility all lived.
Totally abandoned now. It has been for 28 years.
Look at it. Look at that there.
This has to be one of the world's most astonishing spectacles.
Oh, my... I've seen this!
This is it. This is the playground.
Whoa, big spike. It is definitely now time to get out of here.
Come on, little Up! Don't run out now.
Oh, that was... It coughed. Oh, that was a cough. That...
It's gone. It's gone.