Car and Driver News: January 2015

January 31, 2015

First drive: BMW 2-Series Convertible

Yet another niche-busting BMW?

Not really. This is the replacement for the old 1-Series Convertible. And, spoiler alert, it's a whole lot better. Sharper to drive, for a start.

And the 2-Series Convertible is roomier, yet it doesn't look so much like a bathtub. That's not just because it's wider and longer, but it has wedgier styling that emphasises the rear wheel-arches.

But why not a folding hard-top?

Cost, weight and size. Having a folding hardtop instead of this soft roof would add another 100kg or so. And it would take up nearly all the boot.

The folding hardtop in the 4-Series brings all sorts of disadvantages, and it would be even harder to package in the shorter 2-Series.

Does the cloth top do the job, then?

This roof has five layers in all, so it's warm and pretty well as quiet as the 2-Series Coupe. You don't see as many vandalised convertibles as you used to, the nation's low-lives presumably being too busy nicking phones.

So how does this roof work?

It's entirely powered, and snuggles down flush under a hinged cover in 20 seconds. Press the button and it'll keep doing its thing even as you drive, provided you stay below 30mph.

In fact it has been tested to work in a 30mph headwind, so that's the equivalent of 60mph, but the electronics don't let you try that stunt. With the side windows up, the open cockpit isn't too blustery even at motorway speed, and the optional wind-blocker calms the draughts right down.

Roof folded, the boot gets a bit smaller, but it's still useful and accessible. And the rear seats fold so you can poke long items (BMW with tedious predictability cites a pair of golf bags) through the bulkhead. But definitely not a fridge or wardrobe.

When the seats are up, there's room for two, just, but shoulder-width back there is badly constricted. It's more of a generous 2+2 than a tight four-seater.

I'm guessing the decapitated shell is a bit floppy?

Not at all. Even on lumpy roads, there's barely a shiver through the body. Again, an improvement over the old 1-Series soft-top. Most of the time it feels extremely rigid, so the dynamics of the 2-Series shine through.

Meaning?

Well, I'm in the 228i. It moves with grace, and when you push on through a bend it's happy to have a bit of a laugh. Steering is natural, handling balance neutral and damping confident.

Thankfully it feels more agile and connected than most BMWs, which have become a bit remote in recent years. The 2.0-litre engine (part of the familiar N20 family, not the new B-series) sounds purposeful and smooth enough at high revs, but a bit drab in normal use.

Any other engines?

The 220d engine is from the new family, so it's very efficient - down to 108g/km with the autobox, but up to 190bhp. There's also a 220i.

But the killer will be the M235i. Prices scrape under £30k for the 220i and 220d, and run to £37,710 for the M235i. That's a hefty £3k more than the coupes.

Hmm, a 326bhp rear-drive convertible, just in time for the snow. Are they mad?

They thought of that, although again the timing is daffy. From summer onward you can get that one with optional rear-biased 4WD. Quite the year-round car.

First drive: Hyundai Genesis in the UK

What's this, then?

This is Hyundai's flagship, its ultimate. The Genesis is billed as everything the South Korean giant has learned about building competitive, desirable cars, squeezed into a behemoth of a sedan. The Genesis is just 2cm shorter than the BMW 7-Series, 10cm longer than a 5-Series saloon.

The cost? A not insubstantial £47,995. Yes, really. 2015 is the year of the £48k Hyundai.

Nearly fifty grand for a Hyundai?

Yes, the price is about as appealing as Marmite chewing gum, but, overseas at least, the Genesis isn't the no-hoper you might assume it to be. This is the second-generation Genesis, its predecessor having been a smash hit in the US and China. Offering luxury saloon levels of space for executive saloon money - and ticking every optional toy and goodie box as standard - is its bold recipe for invading UK shores.

Don't confuse this car with the rear-drove coupe Genesis that Hyundai offers in the US. The two's similarities end at being rear-drive, V6-powered, and ambitious as hell.

Ambitious but rubbish?

Well, Hyundai certainly isn't getting its hopes up about banking record numbers, forecasting UK sales in the tens rather than the hundreds. Why? That a thirsty petrol is the only engine option won't help.

Nice though it is to have a non-turbo, 3.8-litre petrol V6 on sale in 2015, 75 per cent of big executive sales in the UK are swallowed by high-torque, low-CO2 diesels. The Genesis doesn't even have an electric-afterthought hybrid system as a sop to hugging the trees that probably didn't give up their veneer for the suspiciously glossy dashboard.

How thirsty is it?

Claimed economy is 25mpg - our test car slumped to 15mpg while bumbling through central London, but soared to, er, 22mpg on the motorway. Gaseous emissions are a relatively volcanic 261g/km of CO2. A BMW 535i is almost fifty per cent cleaner. It's safe to say the Genesis is less likely to be your fleet manager's next pool car than a Porsche 918 Spyder.

Does that hefty engine make it fast?

Dispel any notions this is a performance car, even with 311bhp and 293lb ft, and ignore the spritely 6.5 seconds 0-62mph time. A BMW 535i or Audi S6 would leave the Genesis for dead on any road you care to select. The Hyundai does make an awful fuss going about the business of accelerating.

That V6 is very vocal - not an unpleasant rasp, but neither one that should invade the cabin of a supposedly mature saloon quite so intrusively. The body is also prone to squatting heavily onto the rear axle on getaway, with the nose rising skyward like an overloaded yachting pleasure craft. In some respects, this isn't really a disadvantage, as it forces you to re-hone your driving style like you're taking some sort of chauffer test. Smoothly does it.

It's a comfort barge, then?

Yep. The low-speed ride is what really betrays the Genesis as a product aimed at retiree Americans - it floats and porpoises around like a li-lo. So, on rubbish UK roads, it's like riding a li-lo down white water rapids. The eight-speed automatic's gearbox's hesitation doesn't help matters.

Above town speeds, everything's much more settled and controlled. This is a nicely refined mile-muncher, especially when the active cruise control and lane-keep assist come into play. Obviously we wouldn't recommend it, but if you set the radar cruise speed, then leave the car to sniff out the white lines on a quiet motorway itself, the Genesis can be completely, hands-free autonomous. Apparently.

Still, fifty large for a Hyundai...

You get a lot of kit, at least. The Genesis comes in one fully loaded specification in the UK, crammed with toys from the adaptive part-LED lights up front to the auto-open tailgate out back. It'll self-park (though there are sensors and several cameras about the bodywork if you fancy taking over), you sit atop supremely comfy, Volvo-like heated-and-cooled electric leather chairs, while the truly cinematic stereo system will deafen passengers at will.

It's worth mentioning that the build quality is as high as you'd hope too - tight shutlines, not a squeak nor rattle inside, and the critical ‘thunk' from the closing doors is all spot on.

However, eye the low-rent-looking touchscreen and controls pinched from Hyundai superminis, and the sense of being blinded with toys to blinker your senses from that price and that badge returns.

Should I buy one?

In isolation, the Genesis is far from terrible, but you'd have to have looked at, sat in and driven literally none of its British or German (or American) rivals to choose it. In objective terms, there's not a task at which beats any of its competition hands down. And even if it did, would you really lay down fifty grand on a Hyundai? Us neither. Not yet.

SPECS
3778cc, V6, 311bhp, 293lb ft
25mpg, 261g/km
0-62mph in 6.5secs, 149mph
1890kg
£47,995

First drive: 2015 Mazda MX-5

What's this, then?

It's the all-new, fourth-generation Mazda MX-5.

And by all-new, you mean ‘a bit different to the old one'?

No, all-new. Fresh from the ground up, and both lighter and smaller than the car it replaces. The MX-5 has lost 10 per cent of its body weight, over 100kg, and is now even shorter than the 1989 original. That's virtually unheard of.

It looks dinky in the flesh, but has real presence, and yet there's more cabin space. The MX-5 is a very, very clever piece of packaging, as you'll deduce if you open the bonnet and see that the whole of the engine sits behind the front axle line. That's good for weight distribution, and the only penalty is a lump in the footwell underneath your calf, where the gearbox is.

Moreover, the engine is mounted lower in the chassis, which means the bonnet is lower. Thanks to that, the driver's hip point has been dropped, too. So you sit nice and snug in it.

Looks smart, too...

Doesn't it just? In fact, with its scowling eyes there's a newfound edge of aggression to the fourth-gen MX-5. Lightweight aggression, though. A bit of cheekiness. And the back end is very nicely sculpted indeed, even better than the front. There's a harmony to the design of the fourth-generation car that's been absent since the first one.

How's the cabin?

I'll tell you what's most impressive. You know how you can see where corners have been cut in cheap cars? In the MX-5 you can't, despite the fact prices are likely to start around £19,000.

I got in it for the first time at night and was immediately struck by how strong the headlights were, how simple the infotainment was to operate, that the stereo had good clarity, that the seats were brilliantly shaped (if a bit narrow across the shoulders), and how well assembled everything was.

It was even remarkably refined, too, with just a rustle of wind noise from the tops of the doors where glass meets roof. For a car that weighs less than a tonne, that's fantastic.

The boot's deep, there's somewhere to put your phone, and even a pair of USB slots. There's a lovely body-colour door cap that, when you sit in the car, makes a line that runs past the A-pillar, straight out along the front wing. The MX-5 melds interior and exterior design better than any car I can think of.

No fussy electric roof?

No, a simple manual with a single latch in the centre. Unclip that, throw it back and press down to click it in place. Simple. It takes about three seconds without moving from the driver's seat, and if you've got a bit of shoulder strength it's just as quick to throw it back up.

There's a feeling with the Mazda, before you even drive it, that there's real integrity to the design and engineering. They've kept it simple, but made sure they've done the simple stuff well.

How is it to drive?

It's just fun. Not wide-eyed fun like a Porsche GT3, or sweaty-palm fun like a muscle car. Just light, easy, peppy fun. The MX-5 moves really, really well, asking nothing of you but darting merrily along like it's having the time of its life. It seems to whistle cheerily to itself all the time.

The chassis is a peach, and because there's little weight involved, the skinny 195-section tyres grip better than you'd believe. Keep the power on and some squealing will eventually occur, but the front end doesn't give up on you.

Doesn't it have electric power steering? Is that a good thing?

Rarely, and if I'm honest it's the same here. There's not much feel, it's a bit light for my taste, and personally I'd like the nose to have a little more bite on the way into corners. But the MX-5 has been designed for your aunt as well as you, and aside from that, and the slight chassis shimmer over cats' eyes, there are few dynamic complaints.

The damping is great: gone is the weird initial lurch you got from early Mk3s when you turned into a corner. Well, most of it. It's capable of acting the grown-up on motorways, and is a proper hoot in towns: city car small, and with a responsive, perky engine.

Is it thirsty?

According to the trip computer, our car did 50.5mpg on a 100-mile trawl northwards out of Barcelona. On that evidence, you could well decide this little 1.5 litre four pot is all about efficiency. After all, with only 129bhp it's hardly a ripsnorter, is it?

But if I hadn't been told otherwise, I'd have sworn blind this was the 2.0-litre. It may not be turbocharged, but the base-engined MX-5 has enough low-down pick-up, and enough mid-range to run with it. True, it's not fast-fast - though Mazda hasn't released official performance stats, you're probably looking around eight seconds to 60mph - but it's got enough punch to make exiting corners fun.

And, although not as charismatic as a Honda VTEC, the little four-pot has a certain amount of character and a cheeky exhaust note. I also love that it gives you 500rpm more than you need when you fire it up, a chest-puffing little flare of revs.

Good gearshift?

The best. A cracker of a six-speed manual, and the pedals are nicely positioned for a spot of heel-and-toe if you like that sort of thing. Which you will do in this, as it comes so naturally.

A good egg, then?

Completely. The MX-5 is a simple car, but the simple stuff has been done really well. It hasn't been overcomplicated with active-this and electronic-that. It's a great little mover, one that enjoys being thrashed and always has a spring in its step.

With many European cars you get the sense that the marketing men identified a niche, and the engineers had to build something to fit it. The new MX-5, however, does what it's always done, but does it better, I think, than ever. It's got the design, engine and handling chops that have been absent as a package for a couple of generations.

So why have other car makers abandoned the small roadster market?

Who knows? Maybe they don't think they can better the MX-5, a car which, let's not forget, has now sold almost a million examples.

More likely it doesn't fit their marketing strategy, and it would be too expensive to develop a compact rear-drive chassis. Shame.

I'm just glad the MX-5 exists. The world deserves a small roadster as good as this. It brightens things up, and we all need a bit of that in our lives.

January 30, 2015

First drive: 2015 BMW X6M

What's this, then?

On the face of it, the X6M is a texting elephant.

Eh?

If the good lord had meant pachyderms to compose SMSs, he'd have given them opposable thumbs. And if 2.3-tonne SUVs were meant to attack racetracks...

...they wouldn't be 2.3-tonne SUVs?

Quite. They'd be a whole lot lighter and lower. If you were making a BMW M-car, would you start from an X6?

No. So it's a disaster as a fast car?

Oh no. Not in a straight line anyway. The M department has thoroughly revised the X6's twin-turbo V8 so it now makes a staggering 575bhp and 553lb ft of torque. It's got colossal grunt low down in the rev range, spins to 7000 and never really shows lag.

Even when it's burdened down by all that tonnage, the V8 gives an amazing account of itself. It swats the X6M to 62mph in just 4.2 seconds, a time admittedly flattered because it doesn't faff around spinning its wheels. Yet the X6M's real party trick isn't its acceleration at low speeds. It's the way it just steams onward into three-figure velocity.

All the engine needs is a more charismatic noise. It lacks either true V8 burble or an M-specific high-end bark. The new AMG V8 can teach it things in that regard.

But, y'know... corners?

In measurable terms, it's amazing. It can pelt round at thoroughly improbable speeds, hardly leaning, keeping control of pitch and heave, and then catapult away thanks to that brutal engine and near-unbreakable AWD traction.

The X6M boasts an active anti-roll system, clever torque-vectoring diffs, adaptive dampers, huge bespoke tyres, vast six-piston brakes and all sorts of other technologies aimed at bolstering the Newton-defying craziness of it all.

But is it any fun?

It's far from no fun. It can't be no fun given its speed and grip and capability. And in some way the X6M is willing to join you in some games. Part-way through a bend, you can usefully tighten or loosen the line with throttle. But this means going at track speeds - and, yes, I was on a track.
Out of tight hairpins with the DSC off it'll actually oversteer. But the steering and brakes have a fuzzy character: there isn't the sharpness of a properly sporty car. Not even of a Cayenne Turbo, I fancy, though I'd have to drive them back-to-back to be sure.

Also, because of the huge weight, you have to drive the X6M in a particular way, turning gently into corners to avoid cumbersome understeer. Again, though, this is at track speed. Out on the road, you'll always be driving so far beneath the big BMW's limits that you won't ever form an intimate relationship with it.

And now you're going to point out that all this track-readiness has ruined it as an SUV?

Not quite. OK, the tyres will be shredded by off-roading and they're probably too wide to be grippy in real snow. And they make a lot of noise at motorway speed.

But amazingly some shred of comfort survives when you venture out onto real roads in real traffic. The ride, when you soften off the dampers, isn't at all harsh. You sit in regal splendour in your luxurious throne, high above the world.

Things aren't so great for anyone in the back, underneath the tapering rear roof, but the boot's big. And if you want a more conventional SUV package, there's always the dynamically identical X5M. Which happens to be £2900 cheaper. Probably not a significant margin when both are the wrong side of £90k.

Still, BMW delights in pointing out that with the revised engine and two more speeds in the autobox, these cars are 20 percent more efficient than last year's, at 25.4mpg in the official cycle.

How can we get so far and not mention the looks?

Because this thing is just so polarising that you will already have your opinion, and reading mine won't alter it. For what it's worth, I think it's unspeakably vulgar and plain hideous.

Compared with last year's X6, the new car's sheet-metal has more deep creases and feature lines, thereby tackling the desperately difficult task of making it look smaller. But they just make it even uglier.

First drive: the Jaguar XE

So is this the new X-Type?

Ssshh, don't mention the X-word. I made that mistake. I'd been about two hours with the XE and the Jaguar people who made it, and accidentally referred to the XE as the X-Type. It was a verbal slip, but not, I swear, a Freudian one. This car is a far more committed and forward-looking than Jag's previous attempt to get into the vast but treacherously fought market for compact premium saloons.

How so?

The V6 engine with a supercharger and direct petrol injection, and the eight-speed ZF transmission, come out of Jag's F-Type sports car. The XE's bodyshell is an all-new architecture, 75 per cent aluminium. Much of which is high-strength grades, using pressings, extrusions and elegant thin-wall castings. The steel is mostly for the door skins and at the rear of the car, to balance up the weight distribution.

The suspension is also aluminium, and a complex design at both ends of the car in the name of reconciling handling precision to an absorbent ride. The lion lying down with the lamb. So it's double wishbones at the front, an integral link design at the rear.

Even so, overall weight isn't much different from a C-Class (which is half-aluminium anyway), because all of this is future-proofed for several bigger cars. Within a year it'll be used, with different dimensions, in the next XF and the F-Pace crossover.

It doesn't look all that radical though, does it?

Certainly the XE stops well short of eccentricity, because this market doesn't want anything wilfully oddball. But when you see it in the metal, it's taut, clean and also far from being just a shrunken XF. The nose and roof-line are especially strong. The tail-lights and the little chromed wing vents carry a squirt of F-Type sports-car sauce.

And inside? Have they banished the awful graphics of JLR's standard dash screen and navigation?

Indeed. The new system has higher resolution, a quicker brain and graphics that harmonise with the rest of the dials and switches. Plus it hooks into some useful iOS and Android apps in service of your travel, news and social needs. Oh and just to remind you that your car wasn't developed in southern Germany, the phone icon on the home screen is a photo of a red Gilbert Scott phone box.

Does it feel... premium?

Yup, it's a confidently drawn cabin, with precise fits, sharply turned-out jewellery and finger-friendly surfaces. But premium isn't just about how lush the dash looks and feels when you first jump in. All the controls are well-judged, the bodyshell feels stiff, and there's highly effective suppression of suspension and wind noise. The seats support you well and the driving position is fine.

By the way, though the brash signwriting on the doors says ‘prototype', there was almost nothing in this car that wasn't finished, and it felt thoroughly complete too. Deliveries start in May.

How's the petrol V6?

Borrowed from the F-Type, and a lovely thing. At 340bhp from 3.0 litres, it's slightly more powerful than a 335i, and slightly less efficient in the official fuel cycle, while paper performance is no better. But even so, the Jag's is a hugely enjoyable motor.

Thanks to the supercharger, its quick initial reactions make even BMW's clever turbo motor seem a bit dull of wit. In the mid rpms its sound is a woofly hard-edged baritone amusingly redolent of Jaguar's old straight-six XK engine on SU carburettors. The eight-speed ZF transmission's shift strategies are deft, and if you paddle your own shifts they arrive promptly and smoothly.

Can the rest of the car cope with 340bhp?

No-one much in Britain will buy an XE with this engine - the diesel will be the big seller. But it's worth testing this supercharged S model because if the shell and chassis can work under that sort of duress, things look good for the four-cylinder versions. Not to mention the head-banger 186mph V8 supercharged XE R that will arrive later.

So can it cope?

With ease. The XE has electric assistance for its steering, and yes, you might crave a little more raw feel. But you can't argue with the precision and progression. It carves neatly into bends of all shapes, following your intentions with fine precision and agility.

Give it more hurry-up and you can feel the natural balance, or you can ladle out a dollop more power and feel the rear tyres start to take some extra exercise. One of the most impressive things is the way the XE will steam down a bumpy, cambered straight road holding its line with amazing composure.

You can switch to a sport mode to the adaptive dampers and it sharpens things up a little more, but it brings a ride penalty.

Sport mode excepted, does it ride well?

It does. Really well. In the dampers' normal mode, the suspension has a lovely pliancy over small bumps, and fusslessly rounds the hard edges off bigger ones. The relatively firm springs give the primary ride a well-controlled tautness. And the audible thumping and tyre roar are extremely well muffled. The handling doesn't kill the ride.

Jaguar obviously knows that a sports saloon that concentrates on the 'sports' part of its CV to the exclusion of all else would be a dead end. So the XE serves up long-distance quietness, stable cruising, and a pliant city ride. Probably better than a 3-Series in those areas, point of fact. And people want style, luxury and the sense of premium. Consider that box ticked too.

But what about the left-brain hygiene factors?

You'll find a full suite of sensors - cameras and radar - to deliver the expected panoply of driver-support and active safety aids. The XE's running costs have also been carefully benchmarked against the opposition, though the supercharger's fuel figures are bettered by a 335i. The boot and back seat are (just) big enough for contention.

Will it tempt people away from Germany?

Interesting - and vital - question. The XE is certainly good enough, a properly thorough effort. The only question is whether it's actually different enough from the German competition to give people a good reason to shift. We would.

For more on the new Jaguar XE, pick up the February issue of Top Gear magazine, on sale Thursday 29 January in print and digital form

First drive: BMW 2-Series Convertible

Yet another niche-busting BMW?

Not really. This is the replacement for the old 1-Series Convertible. And, spoiler alert, it's a whole lot better. Sharper to drive, for a start.

And the 2-Series Convertible is roomier, yet it doesn't look so much like a bathtub. That's not just because it's wider and longer, but it has wedgier styling that emphasises the rear wheel-arches.

January 28, 2015

First drive: 2015 Subaru Outback

What do we have here?

Subaru's latest Outback, something of a forgotten TG favourite. You get the space of a family estate, full-time all-wheel drive, some extra ride height and general sense of invincibility without the brash image of a posh SUV.

What you don't get, for the thick end of £30,000, is a posh badge. Which is why, in the face of the VW Passat Alltrack and Audi A6 Allroad, Subaru expects to shift fewer than 1000 Outbacks in the UK this year.

What's new?

Lots. Subaru said its loyal Outback buyers demanded the same silhouette and reliability of the outgoing model, but a dollop more refinement and lower running costs. So the shape is now more slippery for reducing wind noise, and the three drivetrain options are more frugal.

The usual boxer engines, I suppose?

Yes. Subaru's mantra of offering all-wheel drive and boxer engines in every car (forget the BRZ anomaly for a second) remains in force here, with the choice of a 2.0-litre turbodiesel and 2.5-litre n/a petrol sitting low down behind that redrawn, bluff grille. The 163bhp petrol is (sigh) CVT-only, but the 148bhp diesel gets a six-speed manual as standard. Most economical is the manual diesel, which claims around 47mpg and 145g/km.

CVTs are always pants. Why does Subaru bother?

Because the anti-CVT lobby here is a whisper compared to the sales racked up elsewhere. In 2014, Subaru managed record sales in the USA, Japan and Australia. In North America, total sales were over ten times that shifted in the whole of Europe.

And guess what: those countries are CVT evangelists. The smoothness in traffic and simple, rugged technology has buyers clamouring for the belt-driven transmissions, while we dual-clutch happy Europeans complain the elastic-feeling response and droning noise spoils the package. Fact is, we're in the minority.

And in fact, the Outback's isn't a bad CVT execution. True: uphill gradients and hard acceleration still leave either engine pitched in a constant moo of high revs and modest forward motion. In the petrol, it's not really a deal-breaker, but the diesel feels a bit strangled by the CVT, as if robbed of the meaty slug-of low-down torque you'd normally expect. Decently judged ‘steps' in the transmission can be manually selected with the paddleshifters if you're really struggling, but 9.9seconds to 62mph is the official getaway speed.

How's the rest of the drive?

Wow, is this car comfortable. Tall, squidgy tyre sidewalls and a refreshing refusal to make any aspect of the car ‘sporty' means the Outback is one of the most comfortable cruisers you can buy.

Niggly ridges that'd have you wincing in a Nurburgring-honed German simply don't register in the Outback, which feels tough enough to join a mission to Mars as NASA's choice moon buggy. An S-line Audi A6 Avant rides like a track car in comparison, likewise an Allroad wearing fashionable 20-something-inch footwear.

The diesel's a touch more fidgety because Subaru has tightened up the damping to cope with the extra 100kg of nose weight. Of more irritation is the diesel's rough grumble, which is still present in the cabin even at a 75mph motorway cruise. Your dog will do its nut trying to work out where the threatening growl is emanating from.

Can it rally?

No. The Outback isn't the sort of wagon you can grab by the scruff of the neck and hurl down a road with real aplomb. There's plenty of grip even when hustled, but there's no real pleasure to be gained from driving it like a tall WRX STI.

If the lack of tyre-squeal and relative lack of body roll is impressive on the road, the manners off it are frankly remarkable. You can attack an unmade, gritty, muddy or snow-covered road with gusto and the only real giveaway is the patter of debris in the wheelarches and a quickly opaque rear window.

Sure, it's no Land Rover Discovery, but with 200mm of ground-clearance and full-time all-wheel drive, not a reactive, part-time system, the sense of go-anywhere unstoppability is brilliant.

One note of caution - we drove a car specced with winter tyres, while UK-bound Outbacks get regular ‘summer tyres' as standard. The dealership will still sell you winters or all-season rubber as an option.

Any tech on board?

All CVT models get a camera-based safety system called EyeSight as standard, which peers 110m into the distance to give you super-smooth adaptive cruise control, auto city braking and errant pedestrian detection.

It's been around in Japan since 2012, and even that less advanced version has apparently prevented 50 per cent of owners from having a shunt, according to buyer feedback. Quite a gadget then, if strangely at odds with the Outback's rough'n'ready, farmyard-hack character.

Good car, then?

Overall, yes. Fit for purpose. The Outback nails its design brief, to offer all-weather, all-road security in a practical, good-value package, and is usefully more refined , safer, and kitted-out than the old version.

It might not be all the car you could ever want, but the Outback is probably most of the car you'll ever truly need. And for that, TG still likes it.

First drive: Audi R8 LMX

Ooh, is this the new R8?

No, the second-gen R8 will indeed be along shortly, accompanied by much fanfare. But this is the R8 LMX, the limited edition final version of the first gen R8 and, as such, something of a farewell. With added lasers.

Lasers?

Oh yes. The LMX was announced last summer, when Audi adopted laser lights for its Le Mans cars. So to draw parallels with its racing efforts, this road car has lasers to assist its main beam headlights. Each ‘bulb' comprises four laser diodes, which a phosphor converter transforms into white light. All you have to do is drive at 37mph or more and, when you engage main beam, the lasers activate. The claim is that they double the effective range of standard LED lights.

Wow, what are they like?

Couldn't tell a difference. OK, I noticed the laser spot activating and putting a beam dead centre up ahead, but on the late night country roads I drove it on I couldn't honestly say it made that much difference. It has an intelligent camera system to prevent you flashing your fricking lasers at oncoming cars, but all this does is turn them off - the lights on this R8 certainly aren't as clever as the Matrix LED lights that are optional on the TT. Those are ace.

Let's talk about the rest of the car.

No problem. This is no less than the most powerful R8 ever, its 5.2-litre naturally aspirated V10 having been turned up to 562bhp. That's an extra 20bhp over the V10 Plus, 10bhp over the R8 GT. However, in the grand scheme of 550bhp, that's a gain of either 3.5 or 1.7 per cent, and torque hasn't climbed at all, remaining at 398lb ft. I couldn't tell a difference there, either.

But what an engine this still is. High-revving, large capacity, naturally aspirated engines are just the best. Ten cylinders revving to beyond 8,500rpm? Yes, please. It's the response and power delivery that make it so enthralling, so good to use.

The rumour is that this engine will be carried over into the next generation R8, expected to be unveiled at the Geneva Motorshow in a few weeks time - that would make sense given the new R8's architecture will be shared with the V10-engined Lamborghini Huracan.

So the V10 still makes a case for itself?

Absolutely, and it's hard to argue with figures such as 3.4 and 198. I'll let you work out the necessary suffixes.

The V10 is honeyed and smooth, picks up wonderfully and always seems to have more in reserve. Y'know, just in case. That said, I always preferred the 4.2-litre V8 in the R8. Not everyone does, I admit that, but it's a lighter, angrier, more snarly and revvier engine than the more cultured V10. Even so, the bigger engine is so well matched to the rest of the car in the oiled, confident way it goes about its business.

Is the R8 starting to feel its age?

To drive, not at all. The rigidity of the chassis, the peerless operation of the seven-speed double clutch gearbox, the sheer traction and balance of the thing remain real automotive highlights. This is still perhaps the best judged all round supercar of them all.

I don't think I'm wrong in saying it's quieter and better riding than a 911, perfectly cosy inside and so easy to drive smoothly. I had to collect a friend from the airport on my way home one night. All the bags slotted in the alcantara-lined nose and behind the seats, and we chatted the 45-minute journey away with no unwanted interruptions from suspension, engine or gearbox.

It's a wonderfully habitable device, the R8. But this LMX isn't quite perfect...

How so?

The carbon ceramic brakes are a fraction excitable at the top end, and the LMX runs fixed rate springs and dampers. Both set-up are close to superb - especially the suspension - but I know how good the optional Magentic Ride suspension is on the R8 and I'd want mine to have it. Just takes the edge off a fraction more.

Any other bugbears?

Technology has moved on since 2007. Dot matrix displays between the dials are what you find on cheap Peugeots now, and the nav system, well, it's approaching hopeless.

The interface still works OK, but the graphics are clunky, hooking up to Bluetooth is a hassle that saw me having to refer to the owner's manual, and the USB input wouldn't recognise my iPhone. Which meant I had to rely on the radio (no DAB or Bluetooth audio here) to make the most of the B&O hi-fi.

An optional extra?

No, it's not. The LMX comes well kitted - but then so it should for £160,025. I know it's a limited edition - only 99 will be built - but this isn't the R8's sweet spot. So right did Audi get the first R8 eight years ago that the V8 remains, for me, the honey of the range. Open gate manual, optional Magnetic Ride, yes please.

If you want one (and why wouldn't you? I certainly do) your only option is second hand. The LMX is all sold out, and Audi has stopped building old R8s now. They've all sold out.

Anything else you want to get off your chest?

The way the R8 drives when you properly open the taps. Put it on full lock at low speed and you can feel the car judder as the tight diffs struggle, but on a good road they help you out so much, nailing the front end through corners.

The R8's steering is beautfully geared and lovely to use, you always know it's mid-engined, you can feel the weight move about, and yet it's so obliging in its manners, so forgiving. It's not as nimble as a Ferrari 458, not as exotic as a McLaren 650S, but it's still a hell of a thing.

The best compliment I can pay the R8 is that it drives like a Lotus. If Norfolk under Dany Bahar had ever managed to get the Esprit off the ground, this is what I hope it would have felt like. Maybe a bit lighter, as the V10 R8 is on the porky side at almost 1600kg, but the slick, liquidy way the R8 pours itself down a road is something Audi has failed to replicate in the last decade.

If they cock up the next R8 we'll never forgive them.

Specs:
£160,025, 5204cc naturally aspirated V10, 562bhp @ 8,000rpm, 398lb ft @ 6,500rpm, 0-62mph in 3.4secs, 198mph max, 21.9mpg, 299g/km CO2, 1,595kg

This is Alpine’s Vision GT concept

The Vision Gran Turismo concepts keep coming. And when they look like this, we're not complaining one bit.

This is Alpine's effort. Alpine, if you need a reminder, is a sports car maker with ties to Renault; production of its Porsche-rivaling A610 ceased in the 1990s, but it still has motorsport presence and a new mid-engined road car lies on the horizon.

A madcap concept may go some way to help stymy impatience as the latter remains in development, away from our prying eyes.

The VGT concept is certainly an arresting diversion. There are hints of LMP2 endurance racer in its side profile - no surprise given it's Alpine's current area of motorsport expertise - but beyond that, the Vision GT spins off in its own barmy direction.

Its weeny, off centre driving position catches the eye (sitting on the right is ideal for clockwise circuits, such as Le Mans), as does its open and no doubt hugely aerodynamic rear end. And those wheels? They're a work of art.

Our favourite features, though, are those that defy production reality most. The slinky instrument display behind the meticulously stitched steering wheel is neat, but top billing goes to its fold-out side airbrakes, which also house the brake lights.

Three colour schemes will be available in the game; the white and blue here, orange and blue (familiar from Alpine's A450 real-life racer), and matt black.

So what lies beneath its bonkers looks? A 4.5-litre V8 engine with 450bhp and 428lb ft sits amidships. It drives the rear wheels through a seven-speed sequential gearbox, while stopping power comes courtesy of stocky vented discs, measuring 390mm at the front, 355mm rear.

It's good for a top speed of 199mph - you'd think eking out an extra virtual 1mph would have been possible - while the Alpine Vision GT weighs 900kg, less than a 0.9-litre Renault Twingo.

The chassis is carbon monocoque, while the suspension comprises motorsport-style pushrods. The springs and dampers are adjustable, and being a virtual car, that's a process mercifully free of grimy spanners.

With 47/53 front/rear weight distribution, handling hopefully won't be be too tricky. It will be interesting to try it, as one of the engineers behind Alpine's upcoming road car - Terry Baillon - has thrown out some teasing quotes.

"If you look carefully, you may discern some of the handling characteristics of our future road-going model", he said, possibly teaming it up with a suggestive wink.

"The Alpine Vision Gran Turismo feels agile, responsive and fun - in other words, a true Alpine", he continued.

A real Alpine Vision GT does exist, though it's not one we'll be able to sneak a go in, being a composite full-scale model to show off the car's design.

It's currently being shown at the Festival Automobile International in Paris, before a stint at the Retromobile Show from February 4, where Alpine's 60th birthday shindig will kick off. Handy that.

January 27, 2015

How to communicate at 1000mph

Normally I'd urge you to read the words first and then watch the vid, but in this instance do it the other way round. Go and watch the video above, then come back and read this.

Done that? Good. Now, let me assure you that there was no CGI trickery involved. That fighter plane was flying that low. It was doing so next to a helicopter and just above a pair of Jags. Sometimes towards them at a closing speed of 500mph, sometimes in the same direction at a speed dangerously close to falling-out-of-the-sky mph.

Last November, Bloodhound - the British-built rocket machine aiming to become the first car to crack 1000mph in the hands of Wing Commander Andy Green - conducted a vital communications test at Hakskeen Pan in South Africa, the aim being to make sure the team could get live data off something moving very fast across the alkali playa (its not a salt flat, fact fans).

I was there, watching slack-jawed from the sidelines and wondering where on earth in this empty place they'd found to lock the health and safety man away. You can read about what I was up to out there in issue 266 of Top Gear magazine, on sale Wednesday 28 January.

So what looks like the ultimate in larking about with planes, helicopters and cars actually served a vital purpose, because when the Bloodhound team do start trying to break records at the end of this year, they want to be able to live-stream it around the world so we can all watch it. Tricky, when you consider Hakskeen is about 200 miles from the nearest broadband or 3G signal.

In order to overcome that, one of Bloodhound's partners, Emcom, has built a line of masts from the nearest major town, Upington, bringing the necessary signal strength to the pan. Think of the investment that's required. Bloodhound's engineers also need to check that the operations guys on the sidelines can speak clearly to driver Andy Green.

To check it's all working Bloodhound's head of IT, Sarah Covell, jumped in the back of an L-39 fighter, pulled out her phone and flew around the pan, using a speed test app to check the signal strength. Might sound simple, but a Jag XF loaded with data kit took care of the more complex calculations.

So: British-built project, British bloke behind the wheel, British cars providing support. Enough to make you proud, isn't it?

January 26, 2015

Special delivery: Big Stig is on the move!

Good citizens of Poland, run for the hills: Big Stig is coming!

He’s nine metres tall, made of fibreglass and, according to the instruction manual, should only be hand-washed in warm soapy water. We don’t know where he came from, or what his mission upon this mortal coil may be. Frankly we’re worried to ask.

All we know is that he is Big Stig, and that he today departed the hallowed Top Gear test track on the back on a flatbed, bound for the Polish capital Warsaw, via Amsterdam, Berlin and Poznan. If you’re anywhere near those cities over the next few days, keep an eye out. You’re unlikely to miss him.

What’s all this in aid of, you ask? A fair question. It’s all about a new global channel called BBC Brit, which launches in Poland on February 1 and will be the new home of Top Gear in many countries around the world.

More, we hope, shall become clear in the coming days. For now, fair burghers of northern Europe, we ask you not to panic. Big Stig means no harm. If you spot him, simply stay calm, avoid eye contact, back quietly away and, whatever you do, don’t feed him any Wotsits. We don’t need another electrical substation trashed…

January 24, 2015

First drive: 2015 Audi RS3 Sportback

What's this, then?

On paper, probably the hottest production hot hatch on the planet. The Audi RS3 Sportback's four fat tyres are fed by no fewer than 362 turbocharged horsepowers: 27bhp more than its predecessor, well north of the 297bhp VW Golf R. Oh, and an entirely coincidental seven horsepowers ahead of its sworn arch-enemy, the similarly 4WD, similarly turbocharged, similarly five-door Mercedes A45 AMG.

You'll recognise the hardware. Audi’s 2.5-litre five-cylinder makes more power than in any previous application, courtesy of a revised turbocharger and intercooling. All that go reaches the road through a permanent four-wheel-drive system fed by a seven-speed dual-clutch gearbox.

That hardware, says Audi, is good for a 0-62mph time of 4.3 seconds, but don't forget Ingolstadt is notoriously conservative with its timing kit. We'd guess a sub-four sprint is realistic. Top speed, delimited, stands at 174mph. That's not hot hatch pace, that's supercar pace.

Based on the MQB underpinnings of the current A3, the RS3 sits an inch lower to the road on wider tracks front and rear. It's only available in Sportback - Audi-speak for 'five-door hatch' - guise for now, but the RS guys admit they're investigating other body styles.

Enough preamble. How does it drive?

Sidewaysly.

Is that a word? And also, really?

Yes and yes. Really quite sidewaysly. Apparently a touch riled by accusations that its previous RS models – and the old RS3 in particular – have always been too nose-led, too understeery to satisfy The Dedicated Helmsmith, Audi has set its boffins to giving the quattro set-up more of a push-me than pull-you attitude, proudly boasting that the RS3’s rear-mounted, hydraulically actuated mulit-plate clutch can apportion 100 per cent of the available torque to the rear axle if necessary. The promotional spiel even makes heady mention of 'performing controlled drifts'. This is not a phrase you will often read in official Audi material.

And can you perform controlled drifts?

You actually can. ESC switched off, initiate flailing Scandinavian flick, and the RS3 will indulge you with great long steady-state drifts, holding near-impossible angles while the five-cylinder pings itself into the limiter. It is, all told, rather damn magical.

I sense a 'but' hoving into view...

OK, there is one tiny, tiny 'but'. As you may have spotted from the photos, we were only permitted to test the RS3 on ice, on a great frozen bowl way up in the Finnish Arctic circle with a grip coefficient considerably lower than even the most elusive bar of prison-shower soap. If a car can't get sideways out here, it won't get sideways anywhere.

Therefore we can, sadly, tell you nothing of how the RS3 might cope with Britain’s uniquely pitted tarmac – and, let’s be honest, fast Audis haven’t to date been renowned for their cossetting ride quality – nor whether it’ll retain that more rear-biased feel on, say, a sticky track rather than low-mu surface.

Audi reckons the improved rigidity of the MQB-based A3 has allowed it to employ a slightly more forgiving default damping set-up than some of its previous efforts. True, the RS3 felt very smooth on very smooth ice, but then again that's hardly surprising.

Anything else you can't tell us?

Oh yes. We can't tell you whether the variable-ratio electric steering will afford any idea of what the front wheels are up to, though judging by Audi's past form and what little we could ascertain from the ice pan, you're unlikely to be talking Lotus Elise levels of feedback here.

So what can you tell us?

We can tell you the turbo five sounds as juicy as ever, throbbing and yowling its familiar, retro burble. Audi wanted to keep the RS3’s soundtrack natural, eschewing the current trend for piping Happy Noises through the car’s speaker system. In fact, the only aural enhancements are the butterfly valves in the exhaust. Your ears require these to be open at all times.

And we can tell you that throttle response feels fabulously sharp. With maximum torque – 343lb ft, no less – available from just 1625rpm, the RS3 serves up a proper gut-punch of power from any revs.

Any more?

We can tell you, too, that the double-clutch box (no manual option is available) seems much crisper and less hesitant than the frequently laggy transmission in the A45 AMG. The RS3's four-wheel-drive system, too, appears more fluent at juggling power than that of the AWD Merc, which often seems determined to remain front-wheel drive until it becomes utterly necessary to send power to the rear axle. The RS3 gives you more options at the back.

Of course, the Audi isn't so prone to wanton oversteer as, say, the rear-drive BMW M135i. This is, after all, a four-wheel-drive hot hatch dedicated to finding grip at all costs. If you're doing nothing but spinning the rears, the Quattro system will push power to the front axle in a bid for purchase, and requires a bit of man-handling to provoke into a slide. And that's with traction control off: engage the electronic safety net and the RS3 will nudge you back to the straight-ahead far earlier. However, all this is probably a trifle arbitrary.

How so?

Because grip. Our test RS3 wore standard winter tyres rather than any daft studded rubber (never should those two words appear next to each other in a sentence fit for a family website), but found impressive purchase on everything but sheet ice. Grip levels on even the slipperiest of tarmac should be mighty.

Out in the real world, discovering significant understeer or oversteer in the RS3 will likely be prefixed with the popping of several brave pills, and likely be suffixed with a significant repair bill.

How much does it cost?

UK prices are yet to be finalised ,but Audi says the RS3 will clock in around £40,000, a hefty chunk above the £30k Golf R (our hot hatch of 2014, of course). And that's before you start plumbing in stuff like the optional carbon ceramic brakes and adaptive damping.

Yes, with that extra power we'd expect the RS3 to do the Golf in a straight line, but it'll have to go some to match the all-round, all-road abilities of the sublime VW, particularly on broken British lanes. We've sampled enough of the RS3 to suggest it's got the hardware for the B-road fight, but does it have the polish? We'll have to wait for the thaw to be sure...

McLaren plots faster 650S for Geneva

Very few who’ve sampled the 641bhp, twin-turbo fury of the McLaren 650S have emerged from under the car’s butterfly doors and said: ‘Yeah, but it could do with a chunk more power, right?’

Which makes the mind boggle all the more at the news McLaren will unveil an yet faster version of its ‘mainstream’ supercar at the Geneva motor show in March.

Let’s talk about the dazzle-camo first – the lurid monochrome swirls are in fact a print of countless McLaren F1 LMs – the famous ‘longtail’ version developed as a slipperier model to succeed on the long straight of Le Mans.

Word is the upgraded 650S will take inspiration from that very car, and have the initials ‘LT’ (for long-tail, keep up) bestowed upon it. Black cloaking around the rear of this test mule hints at a protruding posterior.

Spotted that extra air intake on the car’s flank? If extra cooling is required, you’d imagine there’s a dollop more power on board – 675PS is being mooted, or 666bhp in old money. The devilish connotations of that output will surely not have been lost on the engineers in Woking.

The ‘675 LT’ may also be the first McLaren to receive the ‘lightweight special treatment’, as per Porsche’s GT3 RS and Lamborghini’s Superleggera efforts. The 650S provides a good base, with its carbon tub helping towards a svelter kerbweight than the rivaling Ferrari 458 and Lamborghini Huracan. Some P1-pinched diet tips could be shared with the LT, potentially making the 597bhp Ferrari 458 Speciale’s power-to-weight ratio look, dare we say it, a little bit limp.

It’s not as if Ron and co. aren’t busy enough as it is. Don’t forget, McLaren’s also working on its new Sports Series models – the entry-level, £120k 911 Turbo chaser due later this year. Oh, and Geneva will see the full reveal of the P1 GTR. Yup – more Le Mans-related initials. When McLaren applies them to a car, it tends not to pull half-measures.

Roll on the Geneva show…

January 23, 2015

First drive: electric Peel P50

It's the smallest car in the world!

It is indeed. The Peel P50 ought to be familiar from its appearance on TG several years ago. Its fame has continued since, and one Dragons' Den appearance later, production of the P50 - and its sportier Trident sibling - has restarted in Nottinghamshire.

As well as the classic 49cc moped powered version, there is now an electric variant. Its motor sends 3.35bhp to the rear wheel - the same as the petrol version - and with a little less weight to shift, it hits a marginally higher 31mph top speed. So long as you've had a light breakfast.

So why electric?

For starters, something as diminutive as the Peel - it's 1.3 metres long and weighs around 150kg - is a prime candidate for electric power, especially given its circa 20-mile range is less of a hindrance than, well, all of its other attributes when it comes to making long journeys.

More pertinently, though, the P50's newfound target market ought to be very receptive to a silent, emission-free iteration. Since its telly appearances, museums the world over are seeking a working example of the world's smallest car, and one shorn of CO2 emissions is all the more acceptable for running indoors.

The P50's other big customer base is the completist car collector, with demand coming from countries far and wide. Electrical power allows for road legal registration in the USA, while the Crown Prince of Dubai, who has apparently ordered ten, can run amok inside his mansion with an unlikely one-make race series. If he's as childish as us.

Is it any good?

Normally a road test would weave its way through such fripperies as ‘braking', ‘performance', ‘suspension' and ‘handling'. The P50 doesn't really have any of these things.

It drives like any other EV or automatic car, with a brake and throttle. The former has no progression, but the latter produces thrust so modest that unless you're heading downhill, lifting off the right pedal should produce enough retardation for whatever obstacle you may be gently approaching. There's a reverse gear now, too...

With reborn Peels possessing a heavier, more reinforced chassis structure - including engine mounts from a Ford Fiesta for the petrol to keep weight low and stable - there's no impending feeling of doom as you make progress, with the only sense of instability coming if you weave around like a tyre-warming F1 driver.

The steering rack has a much less severe ratio than before, and the whole process of piloting the electric P50 is as simple as driving a roofed dodgem. There's even a go-faster button amusingly labelled ‘NOS' for if you're keen on heading north of 20mph. We managed around 25mph (which felt like 75), suggesting a diet is in order to touch that 31mph VMAX.

Of course, the relevance of performance and handling ability in a car so single-mindedly novel is negligible. Many customers may intend to never drive their P50 more than a few feet. But when they do, we imagine they'll beam from ear to ear and head off on a course longer than first intended.

So how much does it cost?

Bucking the trend you'll find in ‘normal' cars, the electric P50 is a few hundred quid cheaper than its petrol equivalent, starting at £12,999 plus VAT. With any rationality applied, £15,598 is an awful lot of money for a one-seat car barely more substantial than its driver, but it's a small fraction of what you'll now pay for an original, classic P50, and production will be limited to just 50 units.

What else is worth a mention?

Each P50 is built to order, and you can have your fibreglass body in one of five colours, including the cleverly named ‘Dragon Red'. Electrification is possible for the bubble-roofed Trident ‘sports car', too, which remains the Peel to buy if you have a friend.

But for those of us watching from the outside, there's little to titillate more than the P50 and its barely believable dinkiness. And there's something of an inherent rightness to it pootling around to an electrical whine akin to a remote control car. Unless you need enough range to complete the Isle of Man TT course, that is...

First drive: 2015 Honda CR-V

What's this, then?

Before getting behind the wheel of Honda's most exciting cars - the forthcoming Civic Type-R and NSX - later this year, we must first have a go in a subtle refresh of one of its least exciting: the British-built CR-V.

Not that the outgoing CR-V is by any means a bad car, just terminally uninteresting. It's a spacious, well-made and rather comfortable thing, worthy of consideration if you need a big, squishy, bulletproof means of ferrying your brood around the countryside. But it possesses no character whatsoever.

So what about the new one?

As facelifts go, this is a fairly big one. The headline-grabber is a new engine-gearbox combo: gone is the old 2.2 diesel, and in is a more powerful version of Honda's new-ish 1.6 with 158bhp and a handy 258 torques. And, should you so wish, you can have it with a brand-new nine - yes, nine - speed automatic gearbox. A six-speed manual remains standard...

With the auto, 0-62mph takes 10 seconds, and the top speed is 122mph. Honda claim 46mpg and 134g/km of CO2.

Elsewhere, there's the new Android-based Honda Connect infotainment system, myriad styling tweaks, a few chassis and suspension upgrades, and some new active safety tech to keep you from burying the CR-V's LED-laden nose in the back of a Latvian HGV.

Is the new engine any good?

It's OK. Refined, hushed at speed and powerful enough to haul the CR-Vs considerable bulk up to speed. The manual gearbox is fine - the clutch light and forgiving - but we'd go for the smooth-shifting auto. There are flappy paddles behind the wheel, but it's best left to make its own mind up. There's such a thing as having too much choice, and having nine gears at your disposal is an unnecessary complication. Besides, you won't be driving it particularly spiritedly anyway...

Why not?

Because this is still not a car for enthusiastic drivers. If that bothers you, get a Ford Kuga. This is a car for pootling. Honda's done its upmost to make the CR-V more responsive: the track is 15mm wider, there's an extra half a degree of positive camber, and the steering's a little quicker, but this remains a car that does not like being hustled.

It's on the motorway where the CR-V feels more at home. The ride is smooth enough - though it does bounce around a little over larger imperfections - and the seats comfortable, if flat as East Anglia. And thanks to Honda's determination to improve on the old CR-V's NVH levels (by doing things like doubling the thickness of the door-seals), it's quiet too.

Anything else worth mentioning?

Yes. The CR-V is the first Honda to be fitted with its new intelligent active cruise control. As well as maintaining a set gap to the car in front, Honda claims its i-ACC system can predict when a car is likely to cut in ahead of you, and prepare itself accordingly. Does it work? Thankfully we didn't encounter a situation in which to find out.

Present too is Honda's suite of active safety tech, like Lane Keeping Assist (very aggressive in the manual we drove, curiously ineffective in the auto) and autonomous emergency braking. Unfortunately Honda is yet to introduce a system that reminds the drivers of its cars that they are needlessly occupying the middle-lane of a near-deserted motorway.

Doesn't sound too bad.

It isn't, but the CR-V still suffers from the same problems as the first one - namely, it's tedious. To drive, look at, be in: it's just dull, and we're not sure there's much Honda can do about that beyond launching the CR-V Type R.

No matter. The CR-V was the best selling SUV in the world for the first nine months of last year - we know, us neither - and the new one is no less accomplished. What it sets out to do, it does well. Pricing is yet to be confirmed, but we'd expect it to start at around £22k, rising to £34k-ish for a diesel auto with everything.

Now, the NSX...

First drive: 2015 Audi RS3 Sportback

What's this, then?

Enough preamble. How does it drive?

Sidewaysly.

Is that a word? And also, really?

And can you perform controlled drifts?

I sense a 'but' hoving into view...

Anything else you can't tell us?

So what can you tell us?

Any more?

How so?

How much does it cost?

January 22, 2015

First drive: Ford Focus ST

What's new with the ST, then?

Ford's hottest Focus (for now...) joins the rest of the hatchback line-up in getting a jolly good spruce-up. It's no mere dusting of new headlights and a sharpened grille - though these two tried-and-tested modifications do give it an uncanny resemblance to the dinkier Fiesta ST - rather a more thorough fine-tuning of its whole character.

What are the headlines?

Big news comes in the form of a new engine. The 247bhp 2-litre petrol turbo unit continues service, albeit with some mild software tweaks, but sitting alongside it is now a 182bhp 2-litre turbodiesel option. And no, it's not called the STD. Both drive the front wheels rather frenetically through a six-speed manual gearbox.

Elsewhere, the chassis has had some attention, with stiffened suspension, while both the torque vectoring system and the electric power steering have received a retune. Detail evolutions rather than revolutions, but the end result is a car that feels much sharper than before.

It's good to drive then?

Oh yes. It was pretty good in the first place, twinning keen, agile dynamics with a firm yet compliant ride. There's more of the same here: the steering feels more focused, with satisfying levels of weight for an electronic system, endowing it with an intuitiveness that should rarely see you having to adjust how much lock you've applied.

The ride, meanwhile, feels a tad firmer than before, but purposefully so. Given how well maintained our Spanish test roads appeared to be, however, full judgement is reserved for when we try the ST on the UK's more pock-marked tarmac.

Shorn of a proper differential, the front axle can feel overwhelmed by the ST's torque out of corners, though the solution might sound counterintuitive. Turn the ESP into its slacker Sport mode and the traction control's tight grasp is loosened, allowing the tyres to dig in nicely.

While accomplished rivals from VW, Renault and Seat prove the benefits of a diff, the Ford compensates with an electronic torque vectoring system that feels hugely effective. We encountered some extremely soggy conditions, yet full faith could be put in the front end, goading us into going faster and faster every corner. Just like a good hot hatch should, then.

And the engines?

The petrol is just as before: extremely flexible in its power delivery yet grateful for a good revving, too, allowing you to stir the snickety gearchange as much or as little as you like.

Really extend the engine out and this is a blooming fast little car, swifter perhaps than its 6.5sec 0-62mph time suggests. The artificially enhanced engine noise doesn't even offend, burbling especially entertainingly at the rev counter's upper reaches.

The diesel, meanwhile, is less appealing in soundtrack. It too gets some artificial assistance, but it can't disguise an agricultural undercurrent that is especially present at low speeds. Naturally, it's more admirable for its claimed figures; 110g/km and 67.3mpg (versus 159g/km and 41.5mpg for the petrol) make it much the more plausible company car choice.

While the oil-burning engine comes with a 27kg weight premium, there's no perceptible effect on its keenness to turn, while throttle response is pleasingly crisp for a diesel, allowing for some satisfying rev matching.

But that phrase - "for a diesel" - is hard to avoid when dishing praise out to the ST TDCI. It's notably the less stimulating of the two cars, its 0-62mph time pegged at 8.1sec and as the powerband wanes just north of 4000rpm, so might your excitement. Starting at £22,195, there's no difference in price between the two, but unless your car choice is dictated by economy figures, we'd stay petrol.

Anything else of note?

As before, there's a choice of both five-door hatchback and estate models, the latter commanding a £1,100 premium. Weighing just 24kg more, and with an identical wheelbase to its smaller sibling, any handling differences are difficult to spot. It's arguably the smarter looking car of the pair, too, especially if you go for stealth-spec solid grey paint.

While the Focus ST's £22k entry point undercuts a 30bhp-lighter Golf GTI by around four grand, only two per cent of UK buyers actually plump for basic spec. Far more popular are its better-equipped ST2 and ST3 trims, and the latter - which starts at £25,995 - is where you'll find Ford's smart new Sync touchscreen media system as standard. It mops up the old button-festooned dashboard and gives the Focus a far more premium feel than before.

You want more stats? Ford expects petrol and diesel sales to be split 50/50 in the ST range, while the newly frugal engine option should boost the current 15 per cent take-up of estates. And less than ten per cent of people dare go for the ‘Tangerine Scream' paint you see above...

I hear there's an RS coming?

Ford's unveiling of its startling new GT supercar trumpeted the arrival of Ford Performance, a new name for the umbrella that all of its sporty activities fall under.

Ford Performance is split into three categories, dubbed ‘ultra-high performance', ‘high performance' and ‘enhanced technology'. With the ST being pigeonholed in the latter, there's room for a 300bhp-plus RS above it, something we'll get our first glimpse of very soon. The ST is likened to a pentathlete for its do-it-all capabilities, while the RS will be altogether more focussed, with track use firmly in mind.

A Fiesta RS, too? No confirmation yet, but performance targets have been set, the hardware required to meet them identified, the small matter of justifying its business case remaining. Ford is intolerant of loss-leading performance cars that build the brand, so its performance cars need to make cash as well as titillate us petrolheads. Cross your fingers while petitioning to your dealer, then.

Focus RS confirmed for February

We have some Good News! Ford has confirmed that the all-new Focus RS will be revealed on February 3, 2015.

So that's little less than two weeks to wait for the range-topping new Focus to re-enter the smoking-hot hatch domain. In the meantime, Ford has revealed this short teaser video showcasing the RS during testing.

We're told the ESP and traction control systems were deactivated for this video, filmed on closed courses with pro drivers in Belgium and the USA. Suffice to say, it's lairy as hell.

What do we know about the new Focus RS then? It will form one of 12 new performance vehicles built under Ford's new ‘Ford Performance' team, sitting in its ‘High Performance' echelon a step above the ST. We're expecting Ford to use the 2.3-litre EcoBoost engine as seen in the new Mustang.

And during TG's stint with the new Focus ST, we learned that the upcoming RS will pack well over 300bhp, and be tailored more for the track. So expect something fast, hard and - quite likely - very shouty.

"To earn the RS badge," Raj Nair, Ford group vice president of global product development explained earlier, "the vehicle has to be a no-compromise driver's car that can deliver exceptional performance on the track when required while providing excellent every day driving."

We'll have more when the car officially launches. For now, watch it get very sideways and very lively in the teaser video above. Excited, much?

January 20, 2015

First drive: Ford Focus ST

What's new with the ST, then?

What are the headlines?

It's good to drive then?

And the engines?

The petrol is just as before: extremely flexible in its power delivery yet grateful for a good revving, too, allowing you to stir the snickety gearchange as much or as little as you like.

Anything else of note?

I hear there's an RS coming?

Ford's unveiling of its startling new GT supercar trumpeted the arrival of Ford Performance, a new name for the umbrella that all of its sporty activities fall under.

First drive: Vauxhall Adam Grand Slam

So why is Vauxhall's fastest Adam named after a tennis major?

Silly name, isn't it? Rather like naming your car after Adam Opel when it's not badged as an Opel in the UK. Anyway, Vauxhall decided that because ‘S' is a regular trim level for the pile ‘em high, sell ‘em cheap Corsa, calling the fast Adam the Adam S would be confusing.

So, following on from the Jam, Glam and Slam versions, there's the Adam Grand Slam. In all other European markets, the car's original Adam S name will stick. Even on UK cars, the ‘S' badging remains on the flanks and dials. Odd.

The name's a bit rubbish. What isn't?

The looks. It's nothing ground-breaking, but boy does the Grand Slam looks punchy. Spot the new design of 18-inch alloy wheel, a lick of red paint for the brake calipers (nicked from the Corsa VXR) and a socking great rear wing that creates 400 newtons of downforce, according to Opel's men in white coats. The idea is that this short-wheelbase, bulbous little city car is more stable than rivals when it closes in on the 124mph top speed.

You also get a visible exhaust pipe for the first time on an Adam, and a bit of extra skirting around the chin and sides. The hunkered-down stance is spot on, despite the Adam Grand Slam (sigh) not actually sitting any lower than a regular Sports Chassis-equipped Adam.

All mouth and no trousers then?

No - the suspension has been worked over with stiffer springs and a thicker anti-roll bar up front, and an entirely new, tougher twist-beam rear axle.

Up front lives a 1.4-litre turbocharged petrol engine. It's the four-cylinder unit used in middling Astras and Corsas - not very successfully. Vauxhall's new 113bhp triple-cylinder turbo thoroughly embarrassed the lacklustre four-pot when we tried them back in 2014 - but the Adam Grand Slam has mercifully had a few tweaks. Power is up 10 horses to 148bhp, and it's delivered to a slick, pleasant six-speed manual gearbox with shorter, closer ratios than we're used to in cooking Vauxhalls.

Sounds good?

Sadly, the sound isn't great. The uncovered chrome tailpipe promises much loudness and anger, but the 1.4-litre sounds thrashy where a warm hatch should snap, crackle, and occasionally pop. Vauxhall's key rival for the Adam Grand Slam (sigh) is the Abarth 595 Turismo, which sounds much fizzier and, well, naughtier. When you haven't got too much outright power, making a car sound faster than it really is becomes key to delivering a proper pocket rocket experience. You won't find that here.

Is it quick?

Quick for an Adam: 62mph arrives 8.5 seconds after getaway. The acceleration is very linear - no boosty, diesel-style thwack up the backside at 1500rpm here - but with maximum torque not arriving until 3000rpm, you need revs. In the mid-range, the Grand Slam's fairly flexible, and charges along at a decent lick, but you're still very aware this is a warm hatch, not a hot one. And before you ask, no, Vauxhall isn't plotting a lighter, faster Adam VXR. This is as tasty as Adam gets.

How's the handling?

Better. The ride is stiff - it'll be lively in the UK for sure - but better controlled than lesser Adams, and the car's almost square wheelbase allows you to confidently chuck the nose at corners knowing the tail will scamper through behind at pace. It's a likeable, agile, fun little runaround.

Our left-hand drive test cars got the European steering set-up, which is happily weightier than other Adams but suffers from that nasty ‘twang' of elasticity that blights electric power steering. Here's hoping British-spec ones will be better - but if regular Adams are anything to go by, the steering feedback will still have little to write home about. The gearshift is positive and snickety as it should be though, and the brakes have superhuman levels of tolerance to relentless punishment.

There's loads of grip too, but an Adam Grand Slam is more likely to slide thanks to a hefty mid-corner bump than it is thanks to a delicately adjustable chassis.

You've not told me anything about the Grand Slam inside...

The Adam seats its driver far better than the Abarth 500 or the sadly missed RenaultSport Twingo - you're nice and low, and the super-thick steering wheel telescopes miles out of the dashboard for comfortable, racy driving position.

The test cars benefitted from a pair of enormous Recaro bucket seats which wouldn't shame a 911 GT3. Vauxhall originally intended to deny them to UK buyers - even as an option - ‘to keep the price at a sensible level'. That'd have been a crying shame, given what a difference they make to the smart but unsporting cabin. Happily, there's been a change of heart, and Luton's just announced you can spec the brilliant leather chairs for £1040.

That price, incidentally, is £16,695 - hovering just aft of serious hot hatch talent like the (admittedly less funky, but far faster) Ford Fiesta ST. Vauxhall's more interested in nicking a around 750 sales a year from the Abarth 500 and middling Audi A1s, which both share the style over substance approach.

Ought I aim to be one of the 750 Grand Slam champions?

Come to peace with the cringeworthy name, and the fact this is more about being the fastest Adam than it is a truly sporting city car, and you'll certainly enjoy the Adam Grand Slam. This is a nicely judged warm hatch, droney soundtrack and numb steering aside. It's just up to you to overlook the fact that for not much more than £17k, there are some more ultimately satisfying fast small cars on offer, that won't have you blushing beetroot-purple the next time a friend asks ‘so, what are you driving these days?'

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