Tena Lady

Yes. We know. It’s mechanically indistinguishable from a SEAT Ibiza Cupra or Skoda Fabia vRS. Do you know quite how BORED the world is of that fact? Jaysus.

What The Most Repeated Car Fact of the 21st Century So Far neglects to mention is that the minutiae of a car’s execution is just as critical as its gearbox, engine and chassis. Which is why the Polo GTI is better than two cars that are the same as it.

The extra sheen of the Polo’s interior is just the start – the biggest difference between the three cars is on the road. Seriously.

A Fabia vRS feels like a cheap car with a very expensive engine – fast, but also a bit tall and imprecise. The Ibiza Cupra by comparison gives the impression that it’s trying too hard… all shouty, darty and hard without much charm or feel. Blame it on the height of their bodies, sound proofing and weight distribution.

In comparison, the Polo feels like a perfectly judged hot hatch marvel. It’s the last of the three to go on sale, but the GTI gives the impression that it was designed first – the ideal calibration of a shared platform that Skoda and SEAT had to cheapen and differentiate themselves from.

The ride is fractionally less busy… the induction noise slightly richer… the steering infinitesimally meatier… you’ve got to be a real hot-hatch loser hell-bent on finding tiny traces of tweaked tactility to feel the difference, but that’s what we are. Give us a good hot hatch in Wales over anything else on the road. And the Polo GTI is a very good hot hatch.

Blame it on witchcraft, blame it on mysterious mechanical alchemy… but we honestly think the difference is big enough to avoid blaming our own exaggerated memories of the other two cars.

And yes. We also know that the fizzy brilliance of a Renaultsport Clio makes praising the tactility of a Polo GTI sound a bit overwrought. The best of the three is still second best to the Renault.

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!

The cream of the week’s news in just 60 words

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.

Ironed Socks

Cliff Bloody Richard. No matter how much abuse critics give him for the drivelly nonsense that oozes from his anodyne musical pores, and no matter how much he looks like a creepy PE teacher, he just won’t stop. It’s the same with coupe convertibles – the fact that critics pan them for having useless boots, floppy dynamics and cramped back seats doesn’t seem to matter… they just keep coming.

So there’s no point in us noting that the new Renault Megane CC has the exact same faults as every other coupe cabriolet in existence – because folk who write about cars clearly know nothing about what makes normal humans like them. To really tell you whether or not the Renault Megane CC is worth buying, we need to find out what makes people ignore the faults of such flawed products and love them anyway. Should be easy. Cliff Richard has been flawed but loved for decades… we’ll just use his qualities as a framework. The Cliff Criteria.

Much of Cliff’s adoration comes from his ability to remind people of their youth, thus making them feel young again. Here, the Megane CC is exceptional. For a start, it feels incredibly large to sit in – this makes the driver think they’re smaller and therefore much younger. Also, because of the Megane’s excellent wind proofing and refinement with the roof both up and down, it also makes the driver feel protected, cocooned and cared for. Like a loved child.

It doesn’t stop there. Thanks to a glass roof and a button that drops all four windows at once, occupants always have the option of bright sunshine and fresh air… much like the option many children had of running round a playground or field or playing hopscotch or catch or something. A hayfever induced snotty nose is also a very real possibility.

Another key element in Cliff’s success is his keenness to embellish his imperfect face with a raft of cosmetic modifications. Again, the Megane CC follows Cliff’s lead. Despite having to hide the sins of a folding roof, the rear of the new Megane CC is styled reasonably cleanly. Just like with Cliff’s face, closer inspection reveals some inconsistencies in the way its lines flow from one end to the other, but the overall effect is pleasant enough.

Cliff is also keen to maintain an aura of athleticism, without ever actually having to exert himself – for example, while he is a fan of tennis, he is definitely not a tennis player. This is perhaps where the Megane follows his lead the closest. With the roof up, the Renault Megane CC is lithe, direct and energetic with a decent impression of agility.

But just like Cliff, this impression of athleticism doesn’t translate to any genuine sporting ability – the Megane’s default gait is one suited to a relaxed, meandering stroll. It’s also worth noting that when it goes topless, it has a tendency to shudder – much like Cliff would if he were to go topless on a cold day.

That awkward image brings us on to the difficult subject of mental aptitude. Despite his progressing years, Cliff has maintained a presence of mind that serves him well during public appearances… but his judgement isn’t perfect. Remember Millenium Prayer? That was NOT the result of an entirely rational mind. Again, the Megane CC treads in Cliff’s footsteps.

The complex 21 second routine that sees the roof fold itself away is completed with great mental agility – the Renault never, for example, forgets where it put the roof only to remember it’s actually sitting in the boot. But, just like Cliff did with the Millenium Prayer, the Megane CC does have some lapses in judgement. Despite being based on excellent Tom Tom software, the sat nav has little logic or sense to its operation, and the stereo is dim witted, slow to respond, always frustrating and often plain confusing.

Now to the final Cliff category, his premium price tag – people like to think they’re buying into something special. Tickets for his next concert (Royal Albert Hall on Monday 11th October Cliff fans), start off at the substantial price of £45. For comparison, Cliff’s more fashionable and critically acclaimed contemporary Tom Jones has tickets costing as little as £35.

For the Renault to follow Cliff’s lead it also needs to be more expensive than a more fashionable and critically acclaimed contemporary – which in this case is the VW Eos. And somewhat surprisingly, it is. The Renault Megane CC’s entry level price £21,595, which is actually £900 more than that of the VW Eos. The rest of the Renault’s range is more evenly matched to the VW’s – but for those looking for the cheapest possible way of buying such a car, the VW is the best option. Cliff would be proud of such confident pricing.

All of these similarities to Cliff means that despite the problems the Megane CC shares with all of its rivals, it will be a success. It makes you feel young, has had reasonable cosmetic modifications, feels pleasantly athletic without making you sweat, is intelligently designed but not always perfectly judged and comes with a premium price tag. But there’s one key difference. When it’s raining in Wimbledon, the Megane CC won’t be able to entertain the crowd with some music. Because, out of pure frustration, its driver will have smashed the stereo apart with a mallet.

Car manufacturers make a big deal about their heritage. VW stitch chequered patterns into the seats of brand new Golf GTIs to invoke the ‘spirit of the original’, Peugeot have the nerve to badge a gawpy faced shopping trolley as an S16, and BMW even hi-jacked someone else’s heritage when they celebrated the original Mini’s 50th birthday as their own. But why bother? What does such Tony Robinson history gazing actually prove?

Two things. First, that car companies were more innovative and interesting in the past than they are now. And second, that they think people don’t like change. So when the mk5 Golf GTi came around with a radical new double clutch gearbox, proper handling and 200hp, VW didn’t say ‘it’s completely different’ they said it was ‘the original, updated’. Despite the fact it was totally new. Apart from the pattern on the seats, obviously.

The point of such comforting, stylised references is to encourage brand loyalty; ‘don’t worry, your new car will have all the things you like about your old car… but it’ll be better’. We don’t ever really feel the past seeping through a car’s controls and dynamics – we’re just told it’s there. In the DNA. Invisible, intangible… but there. Outside of seat fabric semiotics though, it’s largely bollocks. Marketing, not engineering.

Which makes the Mazda CX-7 a massive surprise, because it’s the exact opposite: a car without heritage, that somehow manages to feel like its busting at the seems with DNA. Not just any old gene strings either, but straight from their most iconic, heritage packed car – the mk1 MX5. It’s because of something we’re going to call mechanical continuity – the tiny but tangible feats of engineering that give a car its character, and that can make different machines genuinely feel related. A sense of mechanical continuity is exactly what the badge engineered new Minis and Peugeot S16s lack. There’s no tangible relationship to the cars which apparently inspired them.

Drive the CX-7 and MX-5 back-to-back and, despite the enormous differences in their purposes, the similarities are more striking than the differences. Not because of some flaky reference to the spirit of open-topped motoring either, but because of an impression of genuine ancestry. The gearchanges, for instance, could have been made on identical factory lines. Snicky, short, mechanical, deliberate and satisfying – each car’s box rewards a precise left hand.

The steering too, has a closely related manner. Over-assisted around the dead-ahead, quick to react, detailed under load and linear… both systems feel like they’ve come from the same engineer’s workshop. Light, sharp clutches which punish lapses in concentration. Brakes which bite with little effort but can be modulated easily. Interiors with circular vents, clear dials and stubby gear levers. Bodywork that doesn’t feel as if it’s got class leading torsional rigidity. The cars are separated by 15 years, 750kg, drivetrain layouts, transmissions, purposes and even number of seats… but there’s a clear ancestry pinning them together.

So why don’t Mazda say call it ‘the MX-5… but off-road’ or something? Why don’t they peddle the past to sell the future? They’d got reasonable grounds to do so after all – the CX-7 feels more closely related to an MX-5 than a 207 S16 does to a 205 S16 after all. They could have given it pop-up lights and everything.

It’s probably because they think the car buying public aren’t stupid. They don’t expect us to fall for the marketing spiel… they know that seat fabrics don’t give a new car the spirit of an old one. It’s a commendable, respectable way of dealing with car buyers. Treating them respect, and an assumption that we’re not all susceptible to pretty pictures and break dancers with Gene Kelly’s head. And when was the last time you saw a CX-7? Exactly. Never. We’re too stupid to give it a chance. If it was called the MX-4×4 they’d be all over the place.

Organic Veal

Boiled Sweets

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.

Handling handling handling. Think of any great Peugeot, and an ability to dance on tippy toes will be what defines it. Brittle interiors, moody electrics and Rizla-thin panels are all forgiven if the Pug can cock a wheel and shimmy a tail. All memorable Peugeots handle better than they look.

Which puts a massive weight of pressure on the brand new RC Z – because it looks amazing. The double bubble roof, an Olympic swimmer’s shoulders and the peachy rear of a keen female jockey manage to distract the eye from the genetically flawed Lesley Ash gob. And that’s not the only pressure. Seeing as the top spec RC Z (the only one you need care about) is a 200bhp turbocharged coupe costing about £25k, it’s heading for a flouncy cuffed fist fight with the VW Scirocco and Audi TT. So, that handling we were on about…

70mph, spread eagled over both lanes of a Spanish A-Road with a clean line of sight for at least half a mile… 10 corners of handling indulgence. Gingerly into the first left-hander, not braking but lifting, touching the apex and easing away. Already there’s a sense of weight, an impression of width to the RC Z that builds your trust. Accelerate back to a right that’s a mirror of the first left. Don’t lift this time. Steering develops more weight… a few nudges as it kicks back over ridges. Hydraulically assisted, consistent and linear – not overly chatty but the tyres aren’t loaded up yet. There’s still time for it to shine.

Approaching a downhill corkscrew. Taking the first right-hander on the brakes to shed speed before the tighter left that follows. Car’s led by the front, with understeer at the limit – but the back will shimmy under braking. Not what you’d call oversteer, not something you’d deliberately provoke but satisfying to feel all four tyres doing some work, even if the rears seem like passengers.

Right, left, right all dispatched in 2nd, barping off the limiter with the final corner left behind. Not overly sharp or too quick and fidgety – just agile but easy, accurate but flattering. Three corners to go. Sounds awesome. Crunch time.

Massively egged on by the meaty noise now. 3rd gear into a right hooker that’s sensibly 4th, just for the rort. Outside wheels loaded up as the RC Z leans on its springs, front tyres starting to have their sidewalls nibbled away as they succumb to understeer… but it won’t be thrown off line. Hanging on, riding the humps, keeping its feet on the ground, lift as the bend straightens out for the left that follows. Turn in, carrying too much speed, ABS rattles the front wheels on a damp patch and tightens their line – good steering feel now, rubbery, grippy, connected. Blast out of the bend, still in third, into 4th for the final sweeper… car banks in, sits on its springs, holds its line and is away. Still holding onto each gear to make the most of the noise, only easing off to spare being hexed by the approaching villagers.

That was fun – not electrifying, but fun. The RC Z is no dynamic scalpel, no overly focussed track addict. But it’s balanced, fluid, softer than you’d expect and satisfyingly physical to chuck about. Perhaps not as tight, tactile or adjustable as a Scirocco, but definitely more fun than an Audi TT. Easily the best handling Peugeot since the 106 GTI disappeared in 2002.

But, somehow, it’s not the way it corners that defines the Peugeot. There’s more to it than that.

The ride is better than a Scirocco or TT – still firm, but not crashy. The interior, while very clearly related to the 308, feels special. You’ll need a GT spec car to get the leather-trimmed seats and dash but it makes it feel a cut above. Also, despite the roofline, the RC Z has also got a decent boot – long and flat as opposed to short and upright like a Scirocco’s. The back seats are as useless as you’d expect, but if you need better you should be buying a 3008 anyway. And while the 200bhp version’s 0-62mph of 7.5 seconds might not sounds amazing, it never feels underpowered and should do nearly 40mpg. Go for the 156bhp version of the same engine or the 163bhp 2.0HDI diesel and you can bump that up to 40.9 or 52.3mpg. It’s all incredibly convincing.

Compromise is usually a dirty word. It makes cars comfortable instead of fun, frugal instead of fast, practical instead of stylish – but the compromises in the Peugeot RC Z are actually what make it so easy to like. A Scirocco might be a better handler, but it’s not as pretty, satisfying, economical or enjoyable. Instead of sacrificing any aspect for another, Peugeot have given the RC Z a perfect blend of them all. It’s a Peugeot that’s memorable not just for handling, but for everything else as well.

So, you’re minted. More money than Monaco minted. More oil than BP. More gold than… Elizabeth Duke. But you’ve sprouted some kids and need a car to get them to boarding school. They won’t fit in the Veyron, so what do you get? Porsche Panamera? Too ugly. Aston Martin Rapide? Too slow. Maserati Quattroporte? Too old. Bentley Flying Spur? Too common. All four? Too cheap.

If those are your answers, meet your new favourite car – the £900,000 Bugatti Galibier. Eight exhausts indeed.

It was actually at Geneva a few weeks ago, but the world’s press (and us) were too busy talking about hybrid supercars and Aston Martin iQs to pay much attention. So Bugatti have released some more pictures… just to ram home quite how ostentatious their new four-door car is.

While production isn’t confirmed, the Galibier has appeared too often and looks too finished to be a pointless show car, so expect it to go on sale in a couple of years. Up front is a twin-supercharged, 800bhp version of the Veyron’s W16 engine that they claim will shove the Galibier to 217mph.

The Veyron’s 7 speed DSG gearbox is thought to have been swapped with an 8 speed standard auto, while four wheel drive will do its best to put the power down and ceramic brakes will be tasked with shedding speed in the event of stray camels. 16 cylinders draped over the front wheels? The Galibier has the potential to completely redefine understeer.

But understeer or not, you’re now convinced. Kids in the back of a Veyron. Done. In fact, there’s only one question… does it come in white with bullet proof glass and a humidor?

Digesting the news… then spewing it out in 60 words

The three finalists for the massively relevant World Car of the Year were announced – the Mercedes E-Class, Toyota Prius and Volkswagen Polo. Toyota looked into complaints that some US cars were still accelerating at inconvenient moments. And British racing hero Sir Stirling Moss fell down a lift shaft in his home, breaking both ankles – get well soon wishes to him.

Digesting the news… then spewing it out in 60 words

Vauxhall previewed their Flextreme GT/E Concept – a petrol hybrid which can run for 60km on its 120kW electric motor, with a 1.4 petrol for when it goes flat. VW released the new £14,445 Polo Bluemotion which produces 91g/km of CO2 and does 80.7mpg. And more F1 testing happened, where some rain saw Kovalainen crash his Lotus and Barichello go fastest.

Digesting the news… then spewing it out in 60 words

Pics of Alfa Romeo’s Bertone styled Pandion concept car which will be shown at Geneva leaked out. Bentley released details of their Continental Supersports convertible which arrives this Autumn: 621bhp, 590lb ft of torque, 202mph and 3.9secs to get to 60mph. And VW announced a smaller, duller, slightly cheaper version of the Golf GTI – the 177bhp, £18,000 Polo GTI.

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.

Owners of the last shape Mazda3 MPS spent just as much time defending their cars against cynical mates as they did driving them. Banging on about the 256bhp power output, 6.1 second 0-62mph time and 155mph top speed, they were adamant that because it had better stats than a Golf GTi, the MPS was a better car. Sadly, their mates knew otherwise. The old car looked bland, felt synthetic and squirmed its power away with embarrassingly premature wheelspin. So, perhaps this new one can redress the balance and give its owners some more sophisticated grounds to argue on.

Encouragingly, all the key numbers have stayed exactly the same. Power, acceleration and top speed benchmarks are all identical to the last one, from the same 2.3 litre turbocharged four cylinder engine. All the work has gone into making it lighter and more rigid. So, in not worrying about making it look more impressive on paper, have Mazda made it more impressive on tarmac?

Being based on the current Focus, it’s got a crisp balance, a well-judged blend between roll control and pliancy, and decently chatty steering. It feels better resolved, more sophisticated and smarter than the last one – but it’s still not as accomplished as a Megane, Golf or Focus hotty. The better ride and awesome speed do mean we’d have an MPS over a Civic Type-R though.

And there’s still no getting away from the insanity going on at the front wheels. Any camber, rut or grease will be sniffed out and followed like a hunting hound to fox piss. On dry country roads it’s fun chasing the car down the route it wants to take, but on anything damp it’s a pain – even on what look like straight roads, you’ll be tugging against the torque as the boost comes in at 2,500rpm. Despite having limited torque output in first and second gears, and despite an LSD and torque-sensing software that adjusts the grunt depending on your steering inputs, it too often shows exactly why Ford invented Revoknuckle.

But the new MPS doesn’t rely on paper stats anywhere near as heavily as the previous car – despite the common faults, it comes closer to feeling like a well-rounded, controllable and dynamically talented hot hatch than before. Add an enormous kit list with parking sensors, bi-xenon lights, a cracking Bose hi-fi, leather everything and sat nav to a low £21,500 price and it starts to look like a sensible buy. The looks, even though it’s only available in practical but uncool 5dr, finally do the frenetic power delivery justice.

So, while even new MPS owners will need to defend their car to their mates, they’ll be able to put up a much stronger argument. It’s still no class leader, but offers incredible value, is incredibly quick and  much of the time frantic fun. If you’re the type who likes to end an argument with an arm wrestle, it could be just what you’re looking for.

You can tell a lot about a brand by its supermini; they’re distilled versions of a company’s vision, designed and built to the tightest brief. Which makes the outgoing Citroen C3 something of a loud-mouthed embarrassment, shouting only bad things about Citroen’s interior quality, woolly dynamics and desperately heavy discounting – it’s an automotive pound shop. Finally though, they’ve got round to replacing it… so has this C3 mk2 finally got something good to say?

Starting from the outside, yes. The new model is nicely sculpted, well proportioned and adorned with all the spangly lighting needed to attract the fussiest magpie-like buyers. It sits quite high, clearly a cousin of the C3 Picasso mini-MPV with which it shares a chassis, but isn’t lofty enough to look like the Pope should be in the back.

Price-wise, it’s showing Citroen’s new found confidence – gone are the bargain bucket, big volume discounts, replaced with the type of price-tags you’d expect from a car worth buying. The range starts at £10,790 but the biggest seller is expected to be the £13,190 1.4 90bhp petrol in VTR+ trim, which spec-for-spec is right on Fiesta money. However, by some mysterious turn of events (and keen VW pricing), that makes the C3 pricier than a VW Polo. Cripes. So, how does the C3 fare without its bargain price?

On the road, not brilliantly. While it feels far better engineered than the previous model, it can’t match a Fiesta for poise or Polo for maturity. Mainly, it rides incredibly well with a knack for quiet cruising – but push it over a particularly abused pothole and it’ll quickly shudder and thump in disapproval. It’s comfortable and easy most of the time, but the better resolved Polo does a smarter job for less cash.

Our 120bhp 1.6 16v engine didn’t shine either. While essentially the same motor as in a Mini Cooper, it lacks low down pull and gets noisily sulky when asked to work hard – it never feels as quick as the 8.9 sec 0-62mph time suggests. Two 1.4 petrols with 75 or 90bhp, a 70bhp 1.4 turbodiesel and a 110bhp 1.6 turbodiesel round off the engines, all emitting less than 140g/km of C02 with a manual gearbox.

So, to catch up on what the C3 has been saying about Citroen. Good looks are offset with strong pricing and low emissions are countered with an only adequate drive… no surprises there. It’s a massive improvement, but nothing that shouts ‘buy me’ with much conviction. Until you look up.

All but the bottom VT spec cars come with what Citroen call a ‘Zenith’ windscreen – a ruddy great piece of glass so big you’ll bugger your neck trying to see all of it. In the hustle and bustle of the supermini market, it’s a massive USP.

The interior is already the single biggest improvement over the old car, now being just as well screwed together as a Fiesta’s, but all the extra light transforms it. You’ll need to spend £12,690 to buy a model with it fitted, but without the epic glass, the C3 doesn’t make half as much sense. The floating mirror might spoil the effect slightly, but such a vast sky lets you forgive the C3’s bland drive – even when it’s wazzing it down.

In the end, the C3 talks Citroen’s talk fluently – interesting design, cool styling, an unhurried drive… and a little twist of something weird. Like half a roof. It might not be an altogether better car than a Fiesta or Polo, but Citroen certainly shouldn’t need to resort to pound-shop discounting to shift it.

Digesting the news… then spewing it out in 60 words

The LA Auto Show opened. VW showed their Up! Lite concept, a four seat, 96mpg, 800cc diesel hybrid. Honda displayed the P-NUT concept – a 1+2 seater for city types. Porsche announced they’ll make a hybrid Panamera in 2011. Chevrolet’s electric Volt will be on sale in California in 2011. Elsewhere, GM President Fritz Henderson stepped down at the company’s request.