Spent some time in the new Infiniti M30d – the first version of Infiniti’s Audi A6 rivalling saloon to come with a diesel engine. Other than being a few MPG short of class best, and perhaps being a little bit camp for some po-faced executive saloon buyers, it’s faultless. Wrote a limerick about it, obviously…

The Infiniti M30d
Is furnished by Liberace
But the engine is subtle
And the ride never rattles
I’d rather this than a lifeless Audi

Infiniti M30d Geek Table

Model: Infiniti M30d GT
Price: £40,190
Engine: 3.0 V6 turbodiesel
Power: 235bhp @ 3,750rpm
Torque: 405lb ft @ 1,750rpm
MPG: 37.7 combined
CO2: 199g/km
0-62mph: 6.9 secs
Top speed: 155mph

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.

Rhythm method fans rejoice! Volkswagen have birthed a new version of their 7 seat Sharan – and it’s better than ever! Auto Exclamation are the first in the world to drive it to a specific car park in Birmingham, and we’ve got exclusive renderings of exactly what it looks like there! It’s like this!

The headline about this car-creche is that it now comes with sliding doors! Compared to the last model’s old-fashioned apertures, these openings are super simple – they slide back and forth with all the ease of a fertile father’s clammy arse! And the greasy weasel door-holes aren’t the only reason the Sharan scores!

Fancy moving the rear-most seats about but don’t want to slip a disc? In some MPVs that’s a tall order… but the Sharan’s got your back! Its new EasyFold seating system is the best around, with the rear two seats shrinking down and rising up again like they’ve been spiked with tiny blue pills! These seat erections are the most impressive around!

And there’s more good news! If you expected the Sharan to have the noisy finesse of Mothercare on a Saturday, you’ll be pleasantly surprised – Volkswagen’s boffins have made it posh as well as practical!

The Sharan’s ride is soft, noise from the frugal 2.0 turbodiesel engine is low and even the best baby monitors would struggle to pick up any gurgles from the wind or tyres! The sprats’ll have no trouble sleeping in the back! Shame they won’t bloody sleep at bedtime because of it, isn’t that right mums!

So, any reasons not to fall in love with Sharan? Well, just one! She’s got a cut-price Spanish twin who isn’t named after a woman from Essex! It’s the SEAT Alhambra! With identical engines and gearboxes – inlcuding an excellent double-clutch system – as well as the same seats and sliding doors, the saucy Spaniard has all the VW’s best bits… for a smaller price tag! While our mid-spec Sharan costs £26,965, the same Alhambra costs £25,805!

But the badge on the pram is worth a lot – McLaren even make a supercar to prove the point! And that’s why we recommend the Volkswagen Sharan without hesitation! If you want your babies to understand life, you need to show them that grown-ups are silly enough to spend £1,000 on a posh badge! After all, what would you want to be seen in – Matalan or Mamas & Papas?! Exactly!

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.

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.

It’s the time of year when the world’s men-folk indulge in one of their Top 5 Favourite Activities – making and reading lists. So as a Christmas present to you loyal reader(s), we’re going to write a list all of our own. Lady and Man, we present The Top Five Cars We’ve Driven in 2010.

5. Mitsubishi Evo X FQ400

When we bagged the keys to Mitsubishi’s window-licking hyper-saloon, we were immediately stunned. This wasn’t just a creaky jap-box being kept alive with a huge iron lung of a turbo, but an incredibly well set-up and easy to drive weapon. Even in the hands of ham-fisted amateurs like ourselves, it danced, whooshed, raced and destroyed. Simultaneously flattering and brutal.

Yes it looks daft, has a tacky interior, costs £50k and won’t do 20mpg – but that’s why it’s only at number 5. For being brilliant as well as preposterous, the Fahk-You-400 makes the list.
Read our original review here.

4. Citroen DS3

Not long ago, Citroen showrooms resembled branches of Lidl – cheap stock piled high to shift quick. To mums and dads after a bargain C4 Picasso, it was great. But everybody else wanted to shop in Waitrose. Which is where the DS3 came in.

Suddenly, Citroen had a posh little car that was genuinely desirable instead of apologetically affordable. The styling was sharp and different, the engines were consistently strong and even the chassis could flick its skirt like a saucy French maid. To our senses, it doesn’t quite match the dynamic ability of a Mini… but in every other respect, it’s better. One of very few new cars we’d actually buy with real-life monies.

Read our original review here.

3. Skoda Superb Estate

The car that took Skoda from plucky underdog to class-leader. While the previous Superb never quite had the gumption to live up to its name, this one wears it with pride. You know the bullied kid at school who goes away for a year, comes back buff and kicks the giblets out of everyone? That’s the Superb. Only it’s far less angry.

Priced from less than £18k, you get the second biggest boot of any estate car in the UK (only beaten by the Merc E-Class), a faultless interior, the best of VW’s current engines and more rear leg-room than anything this side of a Rolls Phantom. It ticks boxes that don’t even exist. There’s even a brolly in the door.
Read our original review here.

2. Honda CR-Z

Shock! ‘The World’s First Sporty Hybrid’© actually is! But strangely, most of its endearing features have little to do with the combination of electricity and combustion under its skin. What stands out for us is the design and engineering that have gone into making it fun to drive.

A snicky six speed manual gearbox. A rorty-on-request exhaust note. Beautifully judged spring and damper settings. A sci-fi-tastic digital hub of a dashboard. Grip and balance that are tweakable on the road. An 80s wedge shape that also nods to the obligatory eco-car steam iron aesthetic. A super-strong chassis with the torsional rigidity of a Civic Type-R. The CR-Z is an incredibly well resolved little car. That it’s cheaper than a Scirocco, C-Charge exempt, costs peanuts to tax and is as economical as a stodgy diesel is a bonus.
Read our original review here.

1. Ford Focus RS500

By far the most memorable car we’ve driven this year, and not just because we drove 800 miles in 24 hours. It’s impossible to imagine how the RS500 shovels on speed until you’ve driven one – we’d swear that only an M3 or 911 Carrera upwards would be able pull away. Extra brownie points are awarded for its ability to achieve such fierce levels of acceleration while maintaining the standard RS’s gloriously granular steering and sweetly weighted controls.

The RS500 is a heart-on-the-sleeve working class hero… it’s carrying a bunch of flowers while beating someone up with beer barrel biceps. How Ford made a £35,000, FWD, 345bhp hatchback quite so appealing is a mystery. But they have.

And there’s a bigger reason to pay respect too. The RS500 marks the end of an era for all the gloriously kinky cars that are being killed because they don’t meet the Euro V emissions regulations: Mazda RX-8, Honda Civic Type-R, VW V10 TDI Touareg and Alfa Romeo 3.2 V6 – it’s a swan song for all of them. Instead of seeming like an over-specced Essex spacker-hatch designed to make some chavs have a wank, it feels like a little chunk of automotive history. It’s etched into our minds… there’s just something about it that gives it an air of importance. A moment in time.

So while Ford could have given the bonkers Focus RS a bolt-gun to the head and packed it off quietly, they didn’t. They made it more powerful, more expensive and more memorable – and that’s why it’s top of the list. Respeck.

Read our original review here.

Ironed Socks

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.

Ask SEAT the time and they’ll have just one infectiously harmonised answer – it’s Eco time! And that’s because they’ve fitted their Altea XL family car with a new super-green 1.6 TDI engine, a stop/start system, energy recuperation technology and called it the Ecomotive! Go eco go eco go!

With a combined fuel economy figure of 62.8mpg, this is the most economical Altea XL ever! And with CO2 emissions of only 119g/km it’s also the least polluting! But does downsizing the engine mean you’ll always arrive late? Is Eco time always five minutes later than planned?

No! While the little 1.6 TDI engine can only punch out 104bhp and a 0-62mph eco-time of 11.5 seconds, it doesn’t feel crippled by greenness! You will need a careful eye on the revs during motorway hills, but as long as you’re not over-eager, the little diesel’s 184lb ft thrump of torque keeps eco-time on time!

And of course, shrinking the engine hasn’t shrunk the interior! Space and eco-time – it’s like a physicists fantasy! A 532 litre boot! Plenty of leg room! Cubby holes in the roof! A hidden boot floor! Hide and seek would take a long time in here! But, what about the Peugeot 3008? We’re glad you asked!

The cunning Puglet is our favourite family car and is the Altea XL’s feircest rival!  So, is eco-time up for the greeny SEAT? Yes and no! Costing between £16k and £19k, the Spaniard is similarly equipped, more economical and a little quicker than a same price Frenchie – but it’s not as clever inside! The Peugeot has chrome flourishes, even more trinket pockets, bigger cubbies and a more flexible boot! The Altea doesn’t have a good time when you compare its insides to the best!

But, as Chico himself said, you can get delirious if you take life too serious! So let’s put the practicalities and frugalities aside! It’s where the SEAT surprises! The small engine makes the front feel light, the steering is accurate, grip is high, body roll is kept in check – and all without making the ride grate and irritate like a perma-tanned pop song! Good times!

So while the interior packaging might not be the best in these competitive times, the green-skills and driving fun make eco-time something to look forward to!

You half expect BMW’s repsonse to being asked ‘will you ever make an economy model?’ to be ‘Actually, a lot of our normal cars already have Start/Stop, brake energy regeneration and intelligent ancilleries – so that’s like asking the Queen if she’d like a crown you spaz.’. But this 320ED shows that their answer is ‘Why yes. On top of our usual Efficient Dynamics routine, we’re going to go one step further by taking a 320d, detuning the engine, lengthening the final drive ratio, fitting some aero alloys, wrapping them in energy saving tyres and lowering the ride by 15mm.’.

Which is exactly what they’ve done. So while a 320d SE has 184bhp and does 60.1 mpg, a 320ED has 163bhp and does 68.9mpg – the 280lb ft of torque and £27,245 ticket are identical. Jolly good show really. With a 0-62mph time of 8 secs, you do lose half a second to the normal car and forfeit the option of speccing big alloys or M-Sport body kits… but that seems a fair swap for covering an extra 12% of road from each drop of fuel.

And rather cleverly, it’s actually a smoother drive than the standard car. The unsung hero is an unfathomably brilliant device called a Centrifugal Pendulum Absorber, which lives inside the dual mass flywheel and smoothes out the juddering you usually get from a car when it labours at low revs. It works incredibly well, making any vibrations almost imperceptible at slow engine speeds and just as smooth at high ones – so you stay in a higher gear for longer, using less diesel. If you’re lazy, it can trick you out: approach a junction, downchange to third, slow to a crawl, then try and accelerate with the engine still smooth as it languishes at 700rpm. The moral? Don’t be lazy or you’ll bog down. A life lesson.

The rest of the car is exactly how you’d expect a mid-spec BMW 3-Series to be. A fantastically judged 50:50 weighted chassis that’s forgiving and alert in perfect measures, a stubborn resistance against understeer even on the energy saving tyres and, to us at least, no effect whatsoever from being 15mm lower and having a higher final drive ratio than normal. If anything, the tall sidewalls on little wheels make it more compliant than the typical Barry-spec 3-Series on 19″ rims and runflats.

So, what about the three other pesky German midi-execs? Audi make an A4 TDIe which costs a couple of grand less, but is 30bhp and 7mpg down on the 320ED, while Merc will sell you a C220CDI BlueEfficiency for the same price as the Audi, which has the same power as the BMW but is less economical than either. Unless the extra £2k is a deal breaker, the BMW is a no-brainer.

You half expect any manufacturer’s repsonse to being asked ‘does detuning the engine, shrinking the wheels, compromising the tyres and lengthening the gears in the name of economy make your car better to drive?’ to be a pretty straight ‘no’. But BMW actually answer it with a convincing ‘yes’.

When the Leon was born, Cornish people still spoke Cornish, the mk5 Golf was in the prime of its life, the Astra was rubbish and the previous shape Focus was King. Now though, the mk6 Golf exists, there’s a new Astra which isn’t rubbish and the Focus is still King. So… what have SEAT done to keep the Leon relevant? Paint it orange and give it black wheels of course! Wicked tings!

Obviously, that’s not all. It’s also had a minor redraw inside and out – and more importantly, can now be had in sporty FR spec with VAG’s gratuitously torquey 168bhp common rail 2.0TDI motor. This isn’t just a five-year-old hatchback. This is a five-year-old, facelifted, bright orange diesel hatchback that’s a bit feisty. So, is it still relevant? And does a 168bhp diesel engine make it hot enough?

In terms of relevance, it’s impossible not to start with the price – £19,490. Nearly five grand cheaper than the identically engined Golf GT TDI. The SEAT’s tweaked interior isn’t a patch on the Golf’s rubbery fetish den, and neither does the Spanish car carry the same Waitrose car park clout… but £5k is a lot of money. Enough money to overlook the dip in perceived quality. Enough money to ensure the Leon is still very relevant.

But relevance is nothing if it’s a little bit shit. Let’s not forget that the chassis is a generation-old – even family cars like this see big leaps in quality with each new model. The Leon might be so dynamically outdated that even its cheap price is a waste of cash.

The first thing you notice when you sit in the thing is how snug it feels – short windscreen, dark rooflining and decently low seat. The second thing you notice when you sit in the thing is that it sounds just like a diesel. But once you spool it up and let the low profile tyres contribute their own racket, the diesel drone dies off and it all starts to sound sportier – as well as feeling tightly sprung, firmly damped and actually quite good.

Some ECU magic must have been worked on the engine, because unlike the vast majority of diesels, there’s actually a point to revving it past 4,000rpm. With the peak 258lb ft of torque available from just 1,750rpm it’s easy to just ping yourself around at low revs, but there’s enough genuine power at higher revs to allow a more petrol-minded gear changing style… you don’t just leave it in 4th and lumber out of corners, you stick it in third and let the power pull you out.  A 0-62mph time of 8.2 secs might not sound scintillating… but through the gears, and regardless of revs, it pulls like a kicked donkey.

The chassis doesn’t mind bucking about either.  It’s quite nose-led in the way it snuffles round tighter corners, but in faster corners the Leon’s more neutral and happy enough to shimmy a tail – adjustable, grippy and fun. The steering feedback’s good too, and while the ride is firm it doesn’t ricochet off bumps with so much force as to make you slow down. The only real quibble is the over-keenness of the ESP to grab an outside front wheel if it thinks there’s a bit too much yaw going on – you can’t fully switch it off either.

Let’s not forget that the backdrop to the Leon’s speed and agility are figures of 53.3mpg and 139g/km of CO2 – the economy and emissions of a brand new car, not a five-year-old one. So, while the nuts and bolts are getting on a bit, and the interior is showing its age, the Leon FR TDI is actually a very convincing, excellent value package with a chassis that feels fresh. It’s still just right for anyone who wants to find a happy combination of bright orange corner hooning, low price and real-world fuel saving… there’s a few years left in it yet.

Can you make a carrot taste meaty? Think about it – because it’s a tough and incredibly pertinent question. Would you even want to? Aren’t carrots and meat better off in harmonious, balanced diet co-existence? Or would life be easier if you could get a meat hit and vegetably goodness from one crunchy stick? It’s a tricky one. And so is the new Honda CR-Z… because it throws up the exact same quandary.

Honda call their new coupe the world’s first ‘sporty hybrid’ – a juxtaposition of words just as awkward as ‘meaty carrot’. At the £16k to £20k price level of the CR-Z, hybrids have always been about economy, economy and a little bit more economy. Very much carrot cars. So, has adding some sporty meat diluted the purity of the carrot or made it a more widely desirable dish? Is it good?

Against all odds, yes. As long as you manage your expectations. The engine, for instance is very much carrot – a 1.5 litre, 112bhp version of the Insight’s 1.3 petrol unit, which together with the Insight’s 14bhp electric motor can muster a peak of 122bhp. Which gives the CR-Z the performance of a car that isn’t fast.

But thanks to a grunty exhaust note and decent 128lb ft wedge of torque from a low 1,500rpm, it still feels meaty enough to call itself sporty – and the 9.9 sec 0-62mph time sits well with the combined 56mpg and 117g/km of CO2. Only just squeezing under the 10 second 0-62mph mental block might sound weak, but let’s get back to the CR-Z’s price again – it’s at entry level Scirocco and mid-spec Volvo C30 money. Of the three S, Sport and GT trims, Honda expect the £18k Sport to sell the best – an £18k Scirocco 1.4 TSI is just two tenths quicker to 62mph, but 10mpg worse off. The Scirocco TDI is £3k more, half a second quicker but no more economical. An £18k Volvo 2.0SE will crack 62mph in 9.4 secs but won’t even do 40mpg.

It all adds up to an enticing package for real life humans who want a rorty sound, angular metal and a decent chance of not being forced into poverty at every BP visit. Honda have clearly worked hard on giving it a proper exhaust note too.

It’s a similar menu of well-judged finesse for the chassis – a lower, stiffer and wider version of what you’ll find under the body of a Jazz supermini or Insight hybrid. The forgiving, easy nature of the Jazz is tangible, but bolstered with a keener to turn, sharper attitude. Carrot shaped Jazz with beefed up geometry. There isn’t an endless meaty bucket of grip, or an overdone attitude to firmness and roll control – just an intelligent balance between fleet footed fun and soft edged compliance.

The alertness of the Scirocco is missing, but so is the occasionally crashy ride, while it both corners and cossets better than the C30. You just can’t quite shake off the feeling that an extra 30bhp would transform it from incredibly enjoyable to proper fun. There’s always the rumoured Mugen version…

What it does better than either Scirocco or C30 is look a little bit special, inside and out. The first glimpse most people had of the CR-Z was at the Detroit Motor Show last year, where it seemed under-wheeled, awkwardly angled and slightly bulbous around the bonnet. In the flesh, on the streets, it now looks spot on. And it gets better on the inside. Some of the plastics that make up the lower half of the dash feel like they’d crack on a sunny day, but the top half and touch points all feel posh enough, with a genuinely fresh feeling to the design and layout. The decently snicky 6-speed manual (the first time such a box has been bolted onto a hybrid powertrain) deserves mention too. Meaty, but not erm… too fatty or stodgy. Hmm.

So, there’s just enough meat to the way it sounds, corners and goes to justify Honda’s apparently contradictory placement of the word ‘sporty’ next to the word ‘hybrid’. This carrot got meat. And, bizarrely, all of the hybrid electronics actually add to this sporty feel – not just in the way that the electric motor pushes you along with a hint of turbo like torque, but in the way the workings of the powertrain are presentered to the driver. There are three driving modes; Normal, Eco and Sport, all of which feature their own mini-technicolour dash show and appropriate dynamic tweaks.

In Sport mode, the throttle response is sharper, steering weightier, electric motor more keen to assist and instrument binnacle light a constant red. Hit normal and the throttle softens off, steering eases up, electric motor holds itself back and the instruments glow to reflect your driving style – green is good, blue adequate and red bad (otherwise known as fast). Eco mode softens things up so far as to be offensive and even weakens the car’s air con to keep fuel efficiency up. As well as the mood glowing lights, the CR-Z also shows five LED trees which either shed or grow leaves depending on your driving. Trying to make them all fall off as quickly as possible is clearly the best game to play, but attempting to nurture them back again does at least provide the opportunity for fun when you’re not driving like a robber.

These little gimmicks help you realise you’re not just driving a slightly underpowered coupe – you’re driving a car that lets you choose between class-beating economy and class matching performance. Instead of questioning whether you can make a carrot taste meaty, or how much the world really needs one, the CR-Z has a wide enough spread of talents to let you just accept it for what it is – a good value, fun to drive, comfortable and smartly resolved coupe. It might not look great on the menu, but Honda have made the world’s first meaty carrot. Very well done.

Digesting the news… then spewing it out in 60 words

Infiniti allowed black pump fans to buy their cars, adding a V6 diesel engine with 235bhp and 406lb ft to their range. Toyota announced a temporary closure of its UK plants, which they claim is nothing to do with all the recalls. And stubbly grunge fan Jacques Villeneuve was rumoured to be making a return to F1 with Stefan GP.

Digesting the news… then spewing it out in 60 words

Peugeot showed off their new ‘5’ concept – a 200bhp, 99g/Km Co2, 74.3mpg diesel-hybrid which previews the pleasant shape and clever tech of the upcoming 508 saloon. Subaru announced that they’ve persuaded Cosworth to breathe on their Impreza STI, making a special edition that will arrive next month. And more F1 testing happened, with Hamilton getting the boasters prize for fastest time.

It’s definitely not a practical joke any more. Mini have announced prices and other details for their Countryman crossover, which will go on sale in the UK in September. Cheapest is the 98hp One at exactly £16,000, rising up to £20,810 for the 184hp Cooper S.

The Cooper D looks like the most sensible buy at £18,810 – it’s got 112hp, 199lb ft and will get to 62mph in 10.9 secs. It also only emits 116g/km of CO2 and is quoted at 64.2 mpg combined. All those figures are for the front wheel drive models though; an  ’All4′ four wheel drive transmission will be available on the Cooper S and Cooper D, costing a smidge over a grand extra with a CO2 and mpg penalty that Mini say is ‘smaller than one might expect’. We’ll have to take their word for it, as they’ve not actually said what it is.

As far as our basic understanding of 4WD transmissions go, the Countryman All4 uses what is essentially an electro-magnetic version of a Haldex clutch – if the front wheels lose traction, the rears are engaged. A prop-shaft to the rear wheels actually runs constantly to make the transition from FWD to 4WD as smooth as possible, with the clutch engaging the rear wheels when necessary. Clever. Although the ground clearance is actually only 1cm higher than a normal Mini so the 4WD seems a bit pointless anyway.

All UK cars will come with a rear bench seat as standard, with a no-cost option of having two individual rear seats instead. Other standard kit includes parking sensors, heated mirrors and washers, roof rails, DAB radio, bluetooth and ‘preparation for a bicycle rack’.

Unavoidable cynicism for such a cynical car aside, the fact that the Cooper D Countryman can be had for less than £20k seems reasonable value next to the likes of Kugas, X1s and Tiguans which all cost a good few grand more. We’ll reserve judgement as to how practical it really is until we’re poking around it in Geneva – but if it’s got vaguely comparable space to the likes of the Kuga, you better get used to seeing its funny face about.

When you’re part of a big family, hand-me-downs are a way of life. Your older brother’s school trousers, your dad’s tools, your uncle’s Haynes manuals, your 2nd cousin’s wife – the usual stuff. It’s a lot cheaper to recycle than buy new, which is why the VAG family have reused the previous Audi A4 to make the new Seat Exeo.

But it’s not just a straight recycling job – the Exeo has been given the automotive equivalent of taken up hems. Seat have tweaked the A4’s damper and spring settings, grafted on a new face that meets current crash regulations and used the VW Group’s new common rail diesel engines – in 118, 140 and 168bhp states of tune. There’s also the 2.0 TSI petrol engine that was in the previous A4.

And it does feel like a different car. Because the interior is lifted from the old A4 cabriolet, there’s at least the suggestion that you’re not sitting in an old Audi saloon. It might not be gleamingly modern, and it still suffers the cramped back seats of the A4, but the precision and quality of the controls prevent it from seeming obviously recycled.

The tweaks to the chassis have helped the Exeo seem quicker witted round bends too. The nose-heavy Audi gait remains when really stuffed into a twist, but it’s got a more alert character than the A4, with sharper turn in, decent grip and even a muted hint of steering feedback. You’d struggle to get that from an old shape A4.

It does share a similarly rigid approach to dealing with bumps though – although our 17” alloys and lower Sport spec suspension will have shown the Exeo in its hardest guise. It relaxes at speed, with a slightly smoother motorway ride than an old A4 on similarly sized wheels, but the drive never manages to match either the agility or suppleness of a Mondeo.

And it’s the Mondeo rather than any Audi comparisons that cause the Exeo the biggest problems. For all the hand-me-down cost cutting, it still costs between £18,755 and £23,285. A middle of the range 140bhp TDI in SE spec will set you back £21k – only a couple of grand less than a similarly specced and equally powerful Mondeo. Next to the £25k you’d need for a new A4, the Exeo makes more sense – but despite the old Audi gubbins, the Seat just isn’t premium enough to compare.

Ultimately, it’s a tricky car to justify. As an improved, lower price version of a premium car that only went off sale a couple of years ago, it seems to offer decent value. But it’s not cheap enough to look enticing next to the more talented Mondeo. If you can afford a new Exeo, it’s only a small stretch to get the Ford – if you want an excellent value A4, go to the used section of the Audi dealer and save even more cash. Sounds harsh to what is an intelligently engineered, thoroughly decent car – but as every younger brother will confirm, you always get stick for wearing hand-me-downs.

Ever since a colour blind VW executive invented the Polo Bluemotion, green-leaning economy cars have been swanning around with the fresh air of superiority. They’re made to a simple formula; energy saving tyres are combined with longer gears, before being mixed with slippier aerodynamics and garnished with a badge that’s either green or has a leaf on it. The result is a few less grams of CO2 and a handful of extra mpgs – commendable stuff, but such eco-friendliness costs extra. Like organic food.

The Kia Cee’d EcoDynamics is the latest of the breed, but it’s a bit cheaper – still organic, but from Lidl. At £14,195, it’s four grand less than a Focus EcoNetic or new Golf Bluemotion – and even though you have to fork out for ESP and electric back windows, you can’t find it in you to moan. Organic food for poor people; it’ll probably extend the nation’s life expectancy. But is it actually good value?

Like the rest of the facelifted Cee’ds, the EcoDynamics has an anodyne face that won’t scare the kids, enough space to sit in and an interior that rarely inspires you to moan about scratchy plastics like they do in magazines. The main quibble maker is an over-firm ride that makes it feel a bit hollow as it bonks across sunken manholes.

Annoyingly, the hard ride is highlighted when you try to make the most of the Cee’d’s USP. The EcoDynamic is the first ever Kia to have a stop/start system, which they’ve called ISG (Intelligent Stop & Go). Do less than 3mph, knock it into neutral, release the clutch and the engine will switch off – clutch down to select a gear and it’ll switch on again. It works perfectly, and you’ll only select first gear before it starts if you’re trying to prove point. All this deliberate stalling makes the EcoDynamics an excellent city car, with the quoted urban mpg figure of 60.1 smashing the Focus EcoNetic’s 51.3 into the nearest coal mine. But its do-good nature is hampered by the fact that the ride is at its worst in town. What you gain in eco-friendliness you lose in pothole lumpiness – not ideal.

Happily, out on proper roads the Cee’d settles down. Extracting just 89bhp through tall gears does require some pre-emptive pedalling, but 173lb ft is enough grunt to punt it around with a decent rhythm. The steering is direct too, although it avoids any chitter-chatter in favour of just doing its job. It’s all entirely acceptable, although without any aerodynamic tweaks, frisbee hubcabs or slippy gearbox oil it’s not as green out of town as it is in it.

Overall then, it’s a car that feels at odds with itself. An engine made for the city, with suspension that prefers life in the sticks. As if that wasn’t already a tedious enough quandary to be in, bear this in mind: for the exact same price, you could buy the 113bhp Cee’d – it lacks the ISG, but still manages a combined mpg in the 60s. Unless you spend all your time struggling for breath in heavy traffic, that’s the better car. So, while the Cee’d EcoDynamics is still a good buy for those looking to mend the world on a shoestring, it highlights one thing – buying cheap organic food can give you a sore arse.

If you thought the Hyundai i30 hatchback was loaded with comfy Korean competence, then you’re in for a fat load of shock – it’s now got more loadspace for even more spacey competency! Enter the i30 Estate! Auto Exclamation dumps its load and gives you the load-down!

While the recent crop of Korean Hyundai puppies are loaded with sense and good-will, you still only buy them if you’re short of cashloads! Luckily, the Hyundai till doesn’t ask much for an i30 Estate – it’s a load off your financial mind! The cheapest i30 Estate can be coaxed out of the Hyundai man’s hands for just £13,120 – £2,000 cheaper than the least loaded Ford Focus Estate!

Because of its inexpensiveness, Auto Exclamation would wackily recommend blowing your load on the priciest 1.6CRDi Premium model… top spec loady madness! In the big bucks super model, you get alloyed wahoos, a diesel to cruise and heated seats that made moos! When you’re only asked to unload £16,345 it’s not hard to feel like Mr Lucky to Choose! Think of a Focus with similar loading and the nearly £20k ticket will feel like necks in a noose!

If you think that steering the dog-munching cheapie would make sad-times, you’re a Jim Davidson faced racist! While the i30 Estate can’t load you up with funability like a blue oval hearse, it makes you think in different tongues! You go in expecting rubbery, woolly, inaccurate blandness… but then come out with well weighted, comfy riding, posh-toff plushness! Trueness will say that dampings and cornerings miss the last load of cheekability – but it’s for loads of kit, not loads of laughs! Happy times carrying sappy pines!

113 horses unload themselves gaily from the 1.6 litre stable – that might look pony on paper, but on tarmac you never want the horses to suck ‘roids! Torquing comes through loud and clear with 173lb being loads enough to pull you, without making you need to shout loads to hear! And, we all know that the fewer the horses, the more civilised the drinking… 57.6mpg is quoted for a day of combined horsing!

But, what about the rear end loading? Well, you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about but nothing to shout about! Filling the i30 estate with water would involve wasting 415 litres – that’s only 67 less than a same-rear Focus, but a big loady loader 119 less than the Korean faced samer Kia Cee’d SW! If carrying loose water is your job, get the sister Kia!

And it’s the Korean faced samer that’s the stickiest load of shite to the Hyundai’s face – it just can’t get the bitch off! The Hyundai may feel like a nicer load to lug around, with a better box of gear and touchy feel of steer – but if you’re not buying a Focus, you just want peace of mind and loads of space!

The Hyundai may have a tastier load of talent than its Kia sister, but it’s lacking in the final load of warranty – the i30 Estate has 5 years of mind peace, while the Kia bumps it over with a lucky 7! The Hyundai i30 is a plusher wagon to drive, but the Cee’d SW will carry more loose water and be free to fix for longer! If the head has to rule the heart, we’d get the grammatical nonsense over the thirty eyed monster!