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Pagani got the world hacking up phlegm with the release of its impossible-to-pronounce Huayra V12 hypercar. Volkswagen tantalised eco-fans with the remarkably production ready XL1 plug-in diesel hybrid. Toyota teased, again, the universe’s most teased car, their FT-86 coupe – but said very little about it. And Ferrari released a few more pictures of their four seat chest-wig express, the FF.
Trampled under the news hungry feet of various gobby supercars, we’re not sure the Volkswagen XL1 concept is getting the coverage it deserves. A black Porsche 911, a stroked Vantage V8, a 4WD Ferrari, a funny coloured Gallardo, a new Lambo V12 and a bombastic Pagani hypercar? Yes of course. But VW have made a 313mpg plug-in hybrid diesel torpedo – and that’s our type of news.
Of course, manufacturers bandy around concepts with optimistic stats all the time, but we reckon this one is different. It’s got wipers. And what do wipers mean? That’s right, let’s all say it together… WIPERS MEAN REALITY.
The interior looks just an LCD wing mirror away from rolling off a production line. Its shapes, textures and even buttons are a temptingly plausible mix of present day VW bits and near-future design – certainly not a work of fiction.
The XL1’s powetrain is similarly realistic; no jet turbines or sci-fi frippery here thankyou-please. It’s powered by a two-cylinder 800cc turbodiesel, which VW claim chuffs out an entirely believable 47bhp. Electricity comes from a lithium-ion battery powering a 20kW motor, which can propel the car without the help of combustion for up to 22 miles.
0-62mph happens in 11.9 seconds and CO2 emissions are quoted as being just 24g/km – although the temptation to guild the lily there may have been too much to resist… we’ll wait and see.
But its the XL1′s materials and manufacturing processes that create the most compelling evidence of its production viability. To keep its weight down to a light-but-believable 795kg, the XL1 is based around a Carbon Fibre Reinforced Polymer monocoque, the build process of which VW have just developed and recently patented. You don’t file a patent cheaply, easily or for no good reason. They mean business.
So while the hypercars bask in their column inches, here’s a nod to a funny little diesel hybrid. Instead of gluing a laptop battery into the boot of a two tonne SUV, here’s hoping that VW will grasp the nettle, build the thing and push the hybrid market on. Perhaps the XL1 will evolve to become a genuine successor to the revolutionary mk1 Honda Insight. Fingers crossed.
Ferrari revealed their first four wheel drive car, the ‘FF’ – it’s got four seats, a 450 litre boot, a 650bhp V12 and looks nothing like a Z3 M Coupe. Caterham unveiled their SP/300.R race car, which goes on sale in 2012. The SMMT announced UK car production rose by 27.1% in 2010. And Murray’s T.27 passed its EU crash test.
What a confusing, contradictory fellow the handsome new Volvo V60 is. Not only is it very definitely not a ‘Naughty Volvo’ as the company’s tremendously misguided marketing bumpf would have you believe, it’s not a staid or boxy one as Volvo’s previous form would suggest either. And it’s got a smaller boot than an Audi A4 Avant or BMW 3 Series Touring. Seriously.
Not naughty, not boxy, not roomy… so what is it?
Perhaps a sporty estate? Well, no. Despite Volvo’s suggestion that the V60 is a ‘sports wagon with driving properties that do the sporting appearance full justice’, it’s actually a very stable, refined and relaxing drive. Yes, it’ll negotiate a mini-roundabout without bending a wishbone, but it’s not sporty. ‘Capably athletic’ is as far as we’ll go.
Is it luxurious then? Nope. There aren’t enough twinkles, baubles or massagers to make it feel sparkly and posh. No ambient lighting, no hidden surprises or jewel encrusted buttons – just a fairly drab interior slab that isn’t quite as ergonomic or responsive as you’d expect. It’s even less luxurious than it is sporty.
Right. So, maybe it’s cheap? Ah, things are picking up – the V60 is cheaper than a BMW 3-Series or Audi A4,. The range starts at £25k for which you get climate control, Bluetooth, 4 electric windows and a charismatic but slightly peaky 5-cylinder turbodiesel with 163bhp. Prices hit max at £36k and there are some petrols too – but the sweet spot is our £30k D3 Lux SE with the 163bhp turbodiesel, leather, sat nav and electric seats. It’s a good value car in which we averaged 40mpg.
And, being a Volvo, surely it’s safer than abstinence? Indeed it is. The V60 is endowed with the safety kit from the automotive world’s biggest hypochondriac, the S60 saloon.
Not only can it show warning lights if you’re too close to the car in front or if someone’s in your blind spot, it will brake for you if you fail to notice an approaching obstacle. And it’ll slam the brakes on if a pedestrian walks out in front of you. And it’ll beep if you change lane without indicating. And it monitors your alertness to make sure you don’t nod off. There’s a even fictional optional extra that can cure speech impediments.
The lights and warning bongs can be irritating, but the enormous cluster of radars, sensors and cameras mounted to the front of the car are reassuring – and if they avoid or minimise the effect of a collision just once, they’re worth the occasional distraction.
So. After that exploration of the Volvo’s talents and foibles, what have we learnt? Well, it’s not particularly dynamic, spacious or luxurious but is cheap, comfortable and safe – the V60 is actually a brilliant car for people who don’t really give a shit about cars. So while car geeks might find it contradicory and confusing, it’s actually very well judged. What do we know anyway.
‘Hello? HELLO? What’s that dear? A new hoover in the paper? Oh, a new Rover… well that does look smart. The back’s just like that nice P4 I had when I first met you dear. If I could go half an hour without needing a wee, I’d definitely have one of those. Never mind, we’ll be fine on the Ring and Ride. Now, must get the milk out the oven. Where are my slippers…’
But enough of that. Despite the biddy-pleasing chrome and 1950s shoulder-line, the 75 was actually quite revolutionary for Rover – it was a car with a proper development budget. While the original plan had been to make a new car by re-skinning the 600, BMW’s big cash pot enabled Rover to design and build the 75 from scratch.
And the Brummies done good. Class leading ride, an incredibly safe and rigid chassis, near-Rolls Royce levels of serenity… its styling looked backwards, but the engineering was totally up-to-date.
In the end, not even the 75 could save Rover from decades of mis-management and under-investment, so along with the company as we knew it, production ended in 2005. And what happens when a manufacturer goes bankrupt? Used value free-fall!
After years of depreciation that would make a Vel Satis wince, Rover 75 values have hit rock bottom. Yours from just £1,000, the classy Rov is now the best value wafter in the world. Which means you want one, and, therefore, you need to know how to buy a good one.
Firstly, try to avoid cars with black sills. Only found on pre-2001 cars that were built in Cowley, they rust quicker and aren’t built as solidly as Longbridge-made cars with body coloured sills. If you’re going to buy a Rover, get a proper Longbridge one. It’s basically law.
Secondly, avoid non-turbocharged 1.8 litre engines. Engines are the 75’s weak point and these K-Series units are the worst – underpowered, undesirable and with the all the head gasket misery you’d expect. The petrol V6 engines are smooth but thirsty, while the BMW-sourced diesels are economical but occasionally coarse. The 2.5 V6 suits the car perfectly, but the best compromise is the 1.8 turbo, which replaced the 2.0 V6 in 2002 – just watch the coolant like a hawk to avoid head gasket woe.
Thirdly, make sure the cambelt has been changed – especially on V6s. The 90,000-mile/6 year interval is reassuring, but thanks to the 75’s engine bay being tighter than a nun’s purse, changing the belt is a very expensive job. Especially as said job actually involves changing three different belts, two of which can only be reached by small boys who used to work in Victorian cotton mills.
Overall though, they’re strong old oxes with all the dignified grace of a good period drama. Find yourself a 2.5 V6 with service history and the cambelt done, pay less than £1,500, buy some string backed driving gloves and lollop about the black country with a hamlet on the burn. A fitting tribute to the band of Brummies that made the 75 a car to be proud of.
Pagani released teaser videos for their unpronounceable Huayra hypercar. Vauxhall tried to distract us from their ASA TV ad wrist slapping by announcing that their Lifetime Warranty applies to used cars as well as new ones. Ford unveiled a 3-4 hour charge, 100-mile range, 84mph electric Focus, on sale in 2013. And three Renault bosses were accused of industrial espionage.
Spent some time in a Fiat 500 TwinAir a few weeks ago. Mainly because of the rorty thrump of its two cylinder engine, I really enjoyed it. Was going to write a standard review of it, but because there are far too many incredibly similar such things in the world, I’m not going to. Here’s a limerick:
It’s the most charismatic 500 engine, but not the most economical. And just in case you don’t think that limericks are the future of automotive reportage, here are some reassuring facts:
Quite like limerick car reviews actually. Maybe I’ll do it again.
