Frankie & Benny’s

We can confidently report that the brand new BMW X3 is rather excellent. Not just excellent for a ‘pointless crossover’ either – it’s an excellent car full stop. In fact, it’s got an answer for every single knee-jerk crossover criticism known to man. Look, we’ll prove it…

Knee-jerk crossover criticism no.1: ‘Yeah but these gas guzzling SUVs are making Eskimos homeless’.

Nope. Not this one. Thanks to CO2 emissions of 149g/km and a combined mpg of 50.4, it’s cleaner than any Audi Q5 or Volvo XC60 – even the green leaved DRIVe version. It actually uses less fuel and emits less CO2 than a Fiat Panda 4×4… and nobody has ever called a Panda a planet killer.

Knee-jerk crossover criticism no.2: ‘Yeah, but it’ll topple over as soon as you go round a corner’

We drove for over 400 miles in our BMW X3 and not once did any of its wheels lift the ground – and the same can’t be said about the mk2 Golf GTi we used to drive on a daily basis.

Its vigilance around corners is actually just one facet of a generally rather suave and confident chassis. The X3 doesn’t iron out road roughness entirely, but instead smothers it in rubber-backed velvet… you can enjoy the texture of tarmac without being distracted by it.

Knee-jerk crossover criticism no.3: ‘Yeah but I bet despite it being massive outside it’s got no space inside’

Its boot is bigger than a Q5 or XC60’s and just 5 bottles of coke smaller than a 5 Series Touring. And even Angela Rippon’s leggy sister would enjoy folding herself into the maturely tailored cabin.

It’s also worth noting that those of Angela Rippon’s advanced years will appreciate that both the boot and seats are higher up and therefore more easily accessed than a 5 Series Touring.

Knee-jerk crossover criticism no.4: ‘Yeah but, Angela Rippon aside, you may as well get a normal estate car’

Guess what? Some people live in the countryside. Or go to car boot sales in boggy fields. Or live at the top of a hill where it snows. Or like seeing over hedges and traffic. Sometimes having twice the amount of driven wheels and a higher ride height compared to a normal estate car comes in handy. Also, at £31,135, the X3 is actually cheaper than a 5 Series Touring with an identical engine… and, like the 5, comes with leather seats and climate control as standard

If you actually want to go off-roading then a Land Rover Freelander 2 would be better… but the X3 is infinitely better on road. And, because you’re probably thinking it, a Discovery 4 is at least £5,000 more expensive so doesn’t really count.

So there you go – the BMW X3 is the best mid-sized crossover thing by far. So good that it’s actually just a bloody good car that should quite rightly tempt a few country dwelling 5 Series buyers.

No. We’re not being drawn into it. The words ‘heritage’, ‘brand’ and ‘sacrilege’ are simply not allowed. Nor the phrase ‘Issigonis would be spinning in his grave’. That’s banned. This is just a car, and shall be judged as just that. Your eyes can decide how it looks, while your focus groups and deep rooted fear of change can decide whether or not it really is a Mini at all. We’ll just talk about the fact that it’s not very good.

The most striking area of ungoodness is its interior. With Mini pushing the Countryman’s apparent practicality and versatility, it’s not unreasonable to expect a re-think of the normal Mini’s fiddly controls. Nothing major, just some chunkier nobs better suited to snowboarders in gloves. But no. What do we get? An interface that’s controlled by a tiny dog’s dick.

Heated rear window buttons smaller than a cat’s nostril. Toggle switches that are even further recessed behind their shiny cowls than normal. Daft. Not even that pretty either.

So that’s a shame. The space in the back goes some way to making up for it, but only in comparison to a normal Mini. Next to a Skoda Yeti or Ford Kuga it’s average.

Perhaps more surprising is that the ungoodness continues when you drive it. Our car is a top spec Cooper S All4, which comes with four wheel drive and – quite interestingly – ‘Sports Suspension’. Here are the facts on that: the Countryman’s ride height is 10mm higher than a normal Mini, but the Sports Suspension lowers it again… by 10mm. Now, I only got a D in A level maths, but I’m pretty sure that means Cooper S Countrymen have the exact same ride height as a normal Mini. So all the downsides of a taller body and higher centre gravity without any extra ground clearance. Hilarious.

With Cooper S trim, you also get 19” wheels – which to be honest look great, but do emphasise the Countryman’s granite edged but cumbersome gait. Not only is the ride hard, it also feels loosely bushed and clonky – potholes ricochet through the cabin as if its bonking up to the bump stops, while the body seems to casually lumber without much control. The electric power steering’s been tuned to keep the dartiness of a normal Mini, but with the extra inertia of a taller body lolloping around, this actually emphasises the Countryman’s lack of real agility.

The engines are the same as in the normal Mini, and therefore excellent – but with an extra 200kg to accelerate, a Countryman needs about a second longer to hit 62mph. The extra weight dulls the fuel economy too, with a Cooper D quoted at 64.2mpg and a Cooper S 46.3mpg. Adding the £1500 option of 4×4 drops the figures by another 10%. And that’s after you’ve paid £3,000 over the standard car. Expensive business, this leg room malarkey.

Upsettingly, there are other niggles that crystallise the Countryman as a bit of a disappointment. If you choose the free option of two separate rear seats instead of a three-wide bench, there’s a smart looking centre rail with moveable storage bins – but their mounting points snap off in your hand.

The optional Harman/Kardon stereo has expensive looking metal tweeters – but the bass is so ponderous and heavy, even when turned down to minimum, that it sounds terrible. The gearchange is short and light – but nobbly and baulky. The brake pedal is nicely weighted – but the clutch is snatchy. The sun visors don’t actually reach the edge of the windscreen. BMW usually engineer simple things like these better than anyone else, but the Countryman just isn’t right. As a premium priced car, it should feel like a perfect jewel in your hands – but it doesn’t.

So, stop worrying about Mini designing themselves into a ditch. Stop looking at the Countryman like it was drawn up in a hall of mirrors. Stop considering its role in the evolution of the Mini brand. The massive Mini shouldn’t have the luxury of being judged on its symbolic and stylistic merits, because the fact that it’s simply not very good is an even bigger disappointment.

A granite etched jaw line. Rabbit legged agility. Warbling rally success. Just three things that the brand new Audi Coupe didn’t have when it was released in 1988. And as they were the best bits of the previous model, it was a bit of a shame. ‘Booooo’ said men in bobble hats. And they were right.

The 1988 – 1996 Audi 80 Coupe was forever being seen next to the word ‘disappointing’, or the phrase ‘lacks the spirit of the original’. Whatever that means.

But now, away from comparisons with 20^th Century rally icons, it looks brill. Stocky, classy, clean… the proportions of an 80s hero, without the stupid quiff and face paint.

Yes, the engine is mounted in the ‘traditional’ Audi location of ‘slightly in front of the radiator’, and yes that means Walter Rohrl will look a bit sad if you offer him a go – but he’s a mentalist anyway. The 80 Coupe is now one of the smoothest, cheapest, most stylish Grand Tourers around. And because they now cost less than £1,000, you should go and buy one.

You certainly won’t have to worry about rust. All Audi Coupes have fully galvanised bodies, so unless a partially sighted cretin has driven into a bollard and repaired the damage with a piece of sheet steel from B&Q, the metallic tree bark should stay away.

The biggest problem is actually choosing which engine you want. There’s a 2.0 8v if you like going slowly, a 2.8 V6 Quattro if you like visiting Texaco, a couple of five cylinder jobbies to keep the bobble hats happy as well as an excellent 137bhp 2.0 16v if you like a smart mixture of everything. And, if you’re still feeling down in the mouth about it not being a ‘proper’ turbocharged Quattro, just save up the £5k you need to get a post-1990 S2.

Really, it’s best not to get your knickers in a twist about what’s under the bonnet and concentrate on history and condition. Things to look out for are seized rear brakes (mk2 Golf anyone?), corroded brake lines, noisy fuel pumps and blue oil smoke from the exhaust when under load or on over-run.

If you’ve ever owned a Volkswagen or Audi from the 80s or early 90s, it’ll feel warmly familiar – if you’re a VAG virgin, so to speak, you just need common sense and some reassuring receipts.

The icing on the cake is that prices are at rock bottom right now. So find yourself a late car with a 2.0 16v engine, make sure it’s got tidy bodywork and a wedge of history, pay about a grand and you might be able to sell it on for profit in a couple of years.

If you look stupid in a bobble hat, a £1,000 Audi Coupe could be the best car you ever own.

There’s so much to say about the new Hybrid version of Porsche’s most controversial car that a review could easily fill the whole Internet. Nobody would read it to the end, nobody would gain anything from it and we’d have wasted our time. So, to avoid the bother and prove that no car review needs to be longer than 500 words, this one’s 499.

To address the fact that the old Cayenne was too heavy, too ugly and too poorly furnished, Porsche have released a new model that’s up to 180kg lighter, much sleeker to look at and infinitely posher to sit in. And to address the fact that it was a total bastard to the environment, they’ve made a Hybrid version. Sounds perfect.

But it’s not – there are two big problems. First, it’s the least satisfying model to drive. And second, despite the 3.0l supercharged V6 engine being the smallest in the range, and despite it being assisted by a 34kw electric motor and hybrid drivetrain, it’s actually less economical than the Cayenne Diesel. Oh, and at £57k it’s also £13k more expensive than the Diesel. So the Hybrid’s pointless. Right?

Well yes. But also no. Just like every hybrid, it depends on where you drive it.

On roads where other Porsches shine, the Cayenne is flawed. Not because it’s the heaviest model, or because it’s the only one with electric rather than hydraulic power steering – what really sucks enjoyment out of the Cayenne Hybrid is the droning engine note and the distracting commotion of hybrid electronics you can feel through the brakes and throttle.

Brush the brake pedal lightly and it seems to slow through magnetic resistance instead of friction; press harder and only a greater sense of deceleration makes you believe the actual brake discs are doing anything. A similarly numb inconsistency affects the throttle, but is less severe. The engine can go from purely turning the wheels, to charging the battery while turning the wheels, to being switched off totally if you’re coasting, to working at maximum power with electric assistance… all with one flex of the right ankle. The motor swapping is masked well, but never totally disguised.

Yet all that’s forgiven when you get into traffic and drive around on electro-juice alone. Like a Prius, the Cayenne has a parallel Hybrid system in which some MENSA powered clutches allow the electric motor to turn the wheels without turning the engine as a slave and therefore wasting energy.

So while its combined economy of 34mpg is worse than the Diesel’s 38, and its 193g/km CO2 figure only 2g better, the Hybrid gets better as the traffic gets thicker; the slower you go, the more chance you have of running without using any fuel. Press the E-Power button and the car will propel you for as long as possible on electricity alone. With suitably gentle driving across a city, we covered 1.1 miles without a spark plug firing once. On one gentle journey, we even hit 38.7mpg at an average speed of 15mph. You wouldn’t get that in a diesel. Or in a Fiesta for that matter.

So the Hybrid lacks the dynamics and mechanical intuition that Porschefiles get clammy over, but has the talent, badges and technology to give City types something to boast about. In the end then, it’s not actually that different from any other Cayenne.

It’s a £50k car with the interior of a £15k car. It looks ridiculous. It’ll struggle to do 20mpg… the Mitsubishi Evo X FQ400 is a very easy car to mock. But having been lucky enough to  spend a couple of nights bonding with one, we’ve found some redeeming features that sprinkle some little shards of brilliance onto the stupidity.

It’ll do 0-62 in less than 4 seconds

Even the cheapest Evo X, the £30k FQ300, hits 62mph in 4.7 seconds – over a second quicker than a Focus RS. But you’ve got to crack it in less than 4 seconds to join the supercar club and REALLY have something to boast about. The Evo X FQ400 is the cheapest car with a roof and proper boot to do just that. To a lot of people, that matters.

It’s got more than just a turbo under the bonnet

Japanese motorsport alchemists HKS have been at the FQ400’s 2.0 litre engine – and they haven’t just strapped a big metal snail to it. Over lesser Evo’s this has a turbo that works better at high temperatures, as well as new injectors, a new ECU with over 500 hours of development time and a new intercooler. Because of those improvements, the FQ400 will not only turn your eyelids inside out as its 403bhp squirms onto the road at 6,500rpm, but also pull from 2,000rpm without being left behind by a 2CV.

It can corner and stop as ferociously as it accelerates

Like the engine, the chassis has much more to it than just brute force. The suspension is 30mm lower on Eibach springs and Bilstein shocks, the brakes are uprated and the track’s wider at the front and back. Bloody works too – not too crashy or so darty that it’s undriveable on narrow roads, but absorbent, adjustable, flattering and staggeringly grippy. The Alcon brakes deserve special mention too… only rubbing a big toe over a still warm disc would reveal more about what’s going on at the wheels.

It doesn’t blind you with technology

The obvious engineering improvements over less well endowed Evos aren’t smothered by a nasty bout of driver aids. You tell the ‘Super All Wheel Drive Control’ the surface you’re driving on and let the Active Centre Differential and Yaw Control discreetly do the rest – sometimes you can sense them scurrying power to different wheels, but they’re generally discreet. Without any sport modes, power dials or adjustable dampers the Evo X feels purer and more mechanical than you think possible from a 4wd 400bhp rude boy.

It makes you feel like a child

Your eyes tell you that the spoiler, diffuser, splitter and carbon fins are in dubious taste… but your inner kid has a naughty grin. Then you hoon it through second gear with your inner kid giggling like he’s being pushed on the world’s biggest swing.  Then you stop, peering through the heat haze that’s started to shimmy up out of the bonnet. And then you hoof it again until you hit the rev limiter in fourth… and go absolutely silent.  Like your inner kid was about to swing right over the top and die. Addictive, naughty, ridiculous… and brilliant.

Oakley Hoodie

Ever wondered what an X5 would look like after it slept badly on a creased pillow? No, us either. But BMW have answered the question anyway – let’s give a warm welcome to the brand new BMW X3.

On sale in the UK from January, BMW’s new midi-crossover will be launched with two engines at first – a 2.0l four cylinder diesel with 181bhp and CO2 emissions of 149g/km, as well as a 3.0l turbcharged petrol with 302bhp and emissions of 204 g/km. Both will be fitted with start/stop while the petrol will come with BMW’s new 8 speed auto as standard (optional on the diseasle), as well as a Boxster beating 0-62mph time of 5.7 secs.

Unlike their smaller but still pigeon-faced and self-consciously surfaced X1, BMW will only offer the X3 with four wheel drive powetrains. In other news, electric variable speed power steering is fitted for the first time in a BMW crossover, while Damper Control and Dynamic Drive Control are both optional – again for the first time in a BMW ‘X’ model. So perhaps (and again unlike the X1), the dubious creases can be offset by a reasonable mix of dynamics and comfort. Fingers, and swage lines, crossed.

This evening, at a slinky party in the grounds of Kensington Palace, Land Rover revealed a brand new ‘compact’ car for 2011, the Range Rover Evoque. And crikey, the purists are gonna be mad. Not only was Victoria Beckham the star of the party, it was also revealed that the Evoque will be available as 2WD. A Range Rover that doesn’t go off-road, with celebrity gloss put above muddy tech? Jeepers.

But don’t let Posh Spice give you a bad first impression – there’s sense behind the style…

The lightweight 2WD transmission helps make the Evoque the smallest, lightest, most fuel efficient Range Rover ever with CO2 emissions of less than 130g/km. And with styling that’s almost identical to the awesome LRX concept, it manages to look both sparklingly new and totally Range Rover.

Clean, lean, stylish and very useful in bringing the company’s average CO2 emissions down – it’s an addition to the RR 4×4 core, not a replacement… so don’t panic. Pricing and further technical details are TBA – but we’ll guess at a £30k start price when it goes on sale in Summer 2011.

In a couple of weeks, the Range Rover will be forty years old. Through four decades of technological progress, it’s not only become the best off-roader in the muck, but the best off-roader on the road. It had coil springs, on and off-road ABS, driver and passenger air bags, self levelling suspension and electronic air suspension before any other SUV.

But the Rangie’s muddy-time tech innovations aren’t the only factors in its success. There’s also the bling… and nothing says bling like over-guilded, diamante encrusted headlight jewellery. So to celebrate the fact that Range Rover can make cars for crystal fingered footballers without annoying the hard-working farmers, here’s a chronology of Range Rover headlights – from the soft Halogen of a 1970 Classic to the LED and Xenon pierce of a facelifted L322. You can click it to make it bigger.

Now shut your eyes, blow out the twinkling LED candles, and wish for another 40 years of Range Rovers that satisfy tarty taste without sacrificing mud-munching prowess. Happy Birthday Range Rover – and never forget that farmers are more important than footballers.

Nissan have announced prices for their brilliantly gawky Sonia Jackson look-a-like, the Juke. And while the looks split opinion like Cassidy splits mirrors, we want one even more than we did before. The range starts at a Fiesta scaring £12,795, which gets you a 1.6 petrol engine, 16″ alloys and air con alongside the bag-of-smashed-crabs face.

The model your brain will tell you to want is the middling £15,145 1.5 dCi Acenta, where you get climate control, Bluetooth, a USB hole and 17″ rims. The model your heart will want is the top of the range, £19,995 190hp turbocharged 1.6 with four wheel drive. Best compromise is probably the turbo charged engine in 2WD form, which costs from £15,595. Less than £16k for a mad looking, British built odd-box with 190hp? Yes please.

Reasons for not buying a Juke are the excellent Skoda Yeti – a touch pricey and bland by comparison, and the agile Fiesta – on the nose for price, but smaller. So, while the face may have a whiff of sausagemeat Cassidy to it, we reckon it’s an interesting, good value, decently equipped wedge of geometric spunkiness. Nissan will take deposits from June, with deliveries starting in September. Like.

Organic Veal

Knuckle Shuffle

The previous Sorento always seemed at its most comfortable with a Border Collie on the back seat, some wellies in the footwell and a small cottage connected to the towbar. With a body-on-frame chassis, low transfer box and live rear axle, it was a farmers’ weapon that shifted nearly a million units across the world.

Which makes the new Sorento a brave move by Kia – because with a monocoque chassis and independent suspension, it’s completely different. More for Mrs Farmer and the family than Mr Farmer himself.

Happily for Mrs Farmer, Sorento mk2 is also very good. The hero is Kia’s brand new, 194bhp 2.2CRDi engine – especially when hooked up to the smooth £1300 6-speed auto box. Spinning between 1800 and 2500rpm, peak torque of 311lb ft is maintained quietly with the box shuffling through ratios without bother. Bumble around in this comfort zone and the Sorento’s 38mpg combined figure isn’t out of reach either. A good engine.

And Mrs Farmer won’t complain when she encounters her first corner. Body roll is kept to a minimum, the steering has a consistent and natural feel from its hydraulic assistance and there’s more than enough grip and stability to stand up to any emergency sheep avoidance routines. A slightly over-firm ride is the trade-off for making a 1.8 tonne SUV corner without drama – but it’s not a deal breaker.

Nor is the interior. All but the base £20,495 2.4 litre petrol (which is next to pointless) have 7 seats, with a rear pair that are big enough to transport children with limbs, but small enough to use as a method of punishment if they get lippy. Pay £25,495 for the mid-spec KX-2 trim and you get leather, climate control, rear parking sensors and cruise control – it all contributes to an ambience that Mrs Farmer might feel is too push for her husband. Best not tell him that even her new Sorento has actually got a pretty handy 4×4 transmission then.

Perhaps the interior plastics are a little brittle, and perhaps the price looks strong next to a £24k Nissan Qashqai+2 with similar spec – but there’s no escaping from the fact that Mrs Farmer’s new Sorento is a much smarter car than Mr Farmer’s old one.

After yesterday’s jubilation of GM securing the future of Saab by selling it to Spyker, the American giant announced they are going to close Hummer leading to the loss of over 3,000 jobs. GM have been trying to shift the SUV brand to Chinese company Sichuan Tengzhong Heavy Industrial Machinery Company, who’s name is as economical with words as Hummers are with fuel, but the sale has fallen through. GM will honour warranties and continue to provide spare parts for current cars.

The failure of the $150m deal is due the Chinese Government’s reluctance to approve the sale, probably due to the fact that they didn’t really fancy idea of appearing to condone cars that can’t crack 15mpg. Not good for the international street cred you see… there’s an irony there somewhere.

Look on the bright side though – in a world of averages, Hummer’s death means we can all drive a faster, more polluting car without any ill effect. If anyone ever accuses you of being blase towards the environment as you rag your V12 Vantage, just say you’re restoring the Hummer equilibrium. Call it a kind of automotive altruistic utilitarianism. You’ll be gone before they realise what the hell you’re on about.

The Citroen C-Crosser is a 7 seat, diesel only, 40mpg, fairly massive 4×4 that in Exclusive trim costs £27k. It will appeal to folk who live in the country with children who occasionally bring their mates home. Families who can afford a new car, but struggle to justify spending over £30k on a Discovery. Pleasant humans who want something that can deal with the pitted, muddy track to the stable without bottoming out. It will make these people very happy. As a sensible, rugged, reasonably affordable family car with a couple of spare seats in the back, it’s good. Very good.

It’s good at doing stuff it doesn’t need to bother with too. Like going round corners. We spent a whole weekend driving it round the Cotswolds, and on more than one occasion deliberately drove straight back where we’d come from just for the hell of it. Obviously, the C-Crosser is no Saxo VTS – there’ll certainly be no inside wheel cocking, lift-off oversteer or hairpin handbraking. But, considering it weighs 1750kg and takes 11 secs to get to 62mph, its fleet footed bend taking ability is a gentle shock, especially given that the ride is still perfectly composed and comfortable.

Perhaps a Mazda CX-7 feels tighter, and perhaps a BMW X1 is quicker to change direction – but the C-Crosser has a more fluid, better-resolved ability to manage both bumps and corners simultaneously, shrinking around you and being easy to place on the road. The similarly priced Mazda and BMW don’t have 7 seats either. It’s not supernaturally good, just much better than it has any right to be. You can enjoy it.

Some of the fun can be attributed to the new ‘DCS’ double clutch gearbox, a £1200 option. Snicking it across to manual and using the massive wheel mounted paddles adds to the involving nature of the chassis. And, if we’re being picky, this also avoids the auto mode’s occasional tendency to languish in an optimistically high gear, below where the peak 200lb ft of torque steps in at 2,000rpm. The only other downside to the DCS is an environmental one – figures of 38.7mpg and 192g/km of CO2 aren’t as pleasant as the manual’s 40.4mpg and 185g. No biggy though… the smooth auto changes help the big Citroen’s refinement.

The C-Crosser’s other bonus feature is a usefully robust 4wd system. A dial lets you choose between FWD, occasional 4WD if the fronts lose grip, or locked 4WD. Admittedly, we didn’t blat up any mountains to test it to the limits, but over rough, slippy, pitted dirt tracks where the back wheels were at least being called into action, the C-Crosser felt perfectly happy acting agriculturally. Seeing as it’s been co-developed with Mitsubishi (who rebadge it and sell it as an Outlander), this impression should at least have some objective backing – they’re pretty handy at the 4×4 business.

It’s only when you stop moving and look around the interior that negativity starts to creep in. The heating dials feel flimsy, with materials that are bettered by the new C3, which costs £10k less. The £1690 optional sat nav has the iffy ergonomics you’d find in an aftermarket Halfords job – and like too many factory fit sat navs, you can’t change the CD track or radio station if you’re using the navigation. The rear seats are only very temporary too. But that’s about it. The C-Crosser is a surprising car… not just because of how well it achieves what it set out to, but because it offers much more than you’d expect.

Digesting the news… then spewing it out in 60 words

Mazda released details of the new Mazda5 seven seat MPV – officially unveiled at Geneva, on sale in the UK this autumn and bearer of a funny swoop. Skoda announced a 1.4% rise in sales in 2009, and showed off piccies of the belting Superb Estate 4×4. And the head of Fiat said Lancia and Chrysler will merge together by the end of the year.

A slight of hand somewhere behind the scenes at BMW has led to pictures of the Mini Countryman appearing before they really should have done. And it’s not much of a looker. The mudflaps are in the wrong place for a start…

Various concept incarnations like the doorless Beachcomber have already been shown off, but these are the first real-life, real-car piccies of Mini’s first crossover. It’ll be seen in the flesh for the first time at the Geneva Motor Show in March, before going on sale in the UK in the autumn from around £17k. Unlike a lot of mock-roaders, the Countryman will actually be 4WD – eagle eyed viewers will note an ‘All4′ badge on the front door.

Other than the accidentally placed mudflaps, styling hightlights include the clumsiest roof to C-pillar transition ever seen on a production car, round front lights that aren’t actually round at all and a boot lid that still looks sparse despite the massive Mini badge. Good news comes from the fact that it’s got proper back doors instead of borrowing the Clubman’s half sized kitchen cupboard design.

Inside, it’s very similar to a normal Mini with the addition of an aeroplane throttle style handbrake that might be easier to use with Gore-Tex gloves after you’ve been skiing. The styling might be an acquired taste, and even a modestly specced Countryman will no doubt cost Golf GTI money, but look on the bright side… it could be the first new Mini that’s more spacious than Issigonis’ model from 1959. Now that’s progress.

Analogue clocks are generally a sign of good taste, subtle style and nuanced craftsmanship. They grace some of the best interiors in the world, from Bentley to Rolls Royce to Range Rover. Even the VW Phaeton, one of the most carefully considered cars ever made, has one. So to find one in what is essentially a Nissan made for Americans is a bit of a shock. It’s not just a clock – it’s a statement of classy intent.

Because while Infiniti are owned by Nissan, and while they have been making cars for Americans for years, they’re now intent on making us tasteful Brits take them seriously. Everything from the dealer network to the chassis has been specially prepared for us; walk into an Infiniti shop and you won’t get heckled by a thug in a nylon suit, you’ll be offered your own ‘account manager’ who will see you through sale and aftersale for the entire time you own the car. But is their EX37 worthy of the analogue clock?

Moving from the clock outwards, it starts well. The interior sees soft leather meet sharp technology – a bird’s eye view 360º camera system, adaptive cruise control and decent touch screen sat nav are bedded into the European standard materials. Wearing brown and black together might break Trinny and Susannah’s rules but it doesn’t creak, is ergonomically sound and feels tightly glued together. The ambience is in keeping with the timepiece.

And, thanks to the engine, so is the drive. Until a Nissan/Renault V6 diesel is offered later this year, the only motor you can have is the 3.7 litre V6 petrol from the 370Z, which in the EX37 thrusts out 316bhp. You’ll rarely get more than 20mpg from it, but the brawny noise and neck-bothering force it generates maintains the impression of class. Comparing it to its Roller and Bentley clock-mates is obviously daft, but there’s at least a trace of similarity in the way the EX37 is defined by its engine – smooth, strong, linear… and seeing as it hits 62mph in 6.4 seconds, it’s certainly not running slow.

The only aspect of the Infiniti’s mechanism that isn’t precisely metronomic is the ride – a hefty 1900kg kerb weight obviously needs a firm set of springs to keep in check. Roll control and turn in are decent, and grip from the 4wd with rear LSD is excellent… but you can feel the engineering compromise in the way it jolts across bumps. The ride quality is definitely more harsh LED than subdued analogue.

Steer around the potholes though, and the impression of a plush, grunty and refined carriage remains. At £37k, cars like the £10k cheaper Mazda CX-7 and more spacious, similarly priced VW Touareg offer better value, especially with diesel engines up front – but the Infiniti makes them look stark and dull. So while it might not make perfect financial sense, the EX37 is at least worthy of the posh clock.

Digesting the news… then spewing it out in 60 words

Renault owned Romanian budget-meisters Dacia unveiled their new and erotically utilitarian Duster – a Yeti sized wagon that might yet come to the UK. A group of old Ford executives put together a bid to buy Volvo, rivalling current favourite purchaser Geely. And news of another wrecked supercar did the rounds, as some chap stuffed his Zonda in Hong Kong.