Two hundred years from now, when all this environmental claptrap has been
exposed as a sham, and engineers can once again devote themselves to
creativity and excellence without having to worry about the trees and
otters, someone, somewhere may well build a car as good as the Ferrari F430.
It’s the new baby in Ferrari’s range and it is, quite simply, the best car
I’ve ever driven, not just when you’re hurtling along at Mach 7 but also on
the motorway, and in town and on country lanes. In every environment, it
rides, goes, stops and handles in a way that other car makers will tell you
is impossible.
Strangely, however, spending two days with this wonderful car was not the
highlight of my motoring week. It was beaten, and beaten easily, by a
slightly knackered, 13-year-old Mitsubishi Starion that I took grass-track
racing.
This is a sport on the verge of extinction because farmers have been advised
that they will lose all their subsidies if they use set-aside land for any
form of motor-sport activity. A pity, because to hurtle round a field,
pushing other bangers out of the way and getting lots of soil up your nose
is truly and properly joyous.
Driving a Ferrari at 190mph is, of course, a marvellous thing, but it’s just
not as good as watching your friends explode and catch fire.
Even when your grass-track racer goes wrong, and it will, the fun doesn’t
stop. One chap lumbered into the pits having blown the top hose on the
engine in his Ford Mondeo. It looked like his race was run, but no. Using
the sort of ingenuity that made Britain great, he nicked one of the traffic
cones that had been used to mark out the track, carved off the base,
gaffer-taped the rest onto his motor and within five minutes was back in the
action.
Lou Reed may claim that feeding animals in the zoo is part and parcel of any
perfect day. But he’s wrong. What you really need, at the bare minimum, is
10 mates, 10 bangers and about 10 acres.
That said, the best bit of my week was the moment when, after more than a year
of waiting, I finally clapped eyes on my new Ford GT. This meant travelling
to a surprisingly green and pretty place called Essex that is only 30 miles
from Britain. But to get there you have to go through the developing world —
places like Hackney, Hoxton and Shoreditch. I felt very sorry for the people
who live there, and rather guilty that I should be on my way to see a car
that’s worth more than most of their postcodes.
Of course, it wasn’t finished. Because it’s American, and because American
engineers have been conditioned to think only of the environment — which
makes them backward — it doesn’t have an integrated in-car entertainment
system. All you get is a small hole in the dash, such as you would find in a
1971 Austin 1100.
That’s fine if you only want a radio, but what if you also want satellite
navigation, a telephone, a CD player and some kind of socket for an iPod?
How do you get all that into a 6in x 1Åin slot? I was stumped.
But happily, I was with a British engineer called Kenneth, or Brian, or
something like that, who reckoned it was all doable. Apparently, Alpine
makes something suitable, and to make it fit, Kenneth or Brian is
undoubtedly sawing the base off a traffic cone somewhere. So next week,
finally, I’ll have my GT.
And, of course, I won’t mind two hoots that it’s completely outclassed by the
new Ferrari. Indeed, I shall have a handy list of oven-ready retorts if you
dare to suggest I’ve bought the wrong car. I don’t know what those retorts
might be yet but they’ll almost certainly involve shoving a traffic cone
right up your jacksie.
I’m aware, as well, having been to Shoreditch, that all of this Ferrari, Ford
and banger-racing stuff is a bit stratospheric — a layer of atmosphere that
most people down on earth think is being killed off by my predilection for
silly cars. So that’s why the road test this week is of a Skoda Octavia.
Of course, it’s not really a Skoda because it shares the same underpinnings as
an Audi A3, an Audi TT, a VW Golf, a VW Beetle and a VW Bora. So what you’re
buying then is Bang & Olufsen in reverse — quality engineering garnished
with a crap badge. And that raises an interesting question. Would you buy a
suit that had been made by Gieves & Hawkes if the label on the inside
said Cohen & Cohen of Colchester Market? If the answer is “no”, then I
suggest you turn immediately to the Style section of the newspaper where I’m
sure you’ll find news of Stella McCartney’s new wellingtons. If the answer
is “yes”, then it might be worth staying with me.
You see, because you have an Ainsley Harriott badge you get the Gordon Ramsay
engineering for a knockdown price. The four-wheel-drive estate I tested is
£16,750, and that includes leather trim, climate control, automatic wipers,
alloy wheels and traction control. It must also be said that while the
styling is depressingly dull, Skoda does a better range of colours than even
Farrow & Ball.
You get a pretty sophisticated four-wheel-drive system too, capable of sending
virtually all the engine’s power to whichever axle needs it most at a given
time. And cleverer still, they’ve built a saddlebag-style petrol tank that
sits on either side of the new rear differential, so you don’t lose any boot
space.
The engine’s pretty good as well, but then it would be because it’s one of the
latest generation 2 litre direct-injection VW units that are as smooth as an
evangelical preacher but as parsimonious as a Methodist minister. It’s not
all that powerful, though. This is one of those cars that revs cleanly but
after several minutes you’re still only doing 14mph.
Then there’s the handling. The 4x4 rides 25mm higher than the normal estate,
to give better ground clearance off-road, but this doesn’t make it even
slightly wobbly when you give it the beans. Mind you, that might have
something to do with the fact I never really went faster than 32 all week.
It’s not really a car that encourages sporty driving. Rather, it’s a
comfortable, very well made five-seater with a large boot. It’s a UPVC
window among cars. Very sensible. Very Terry and June. And naturally, the
Which? brigade adores it.
Plus, because it has four-wheel drive, it has an extra 200kg of braked towing
weight, which means it’ll be ideal for pulling your four-berth Abbey
Spectrum into a muddy field in the Peak District. Caravannists love Skodas.
They love the sense that they know something the rest of the world, with its
fancy clothes and fancy foreign holidays, does not. Like caravanning, the
Octavia 4x4 is a willfully anti-fashion car. A poke in the eye for Tate
Modern and GQ.
As a car, there’s really nothing wrong with it. Certainly, in 10 or 15 years’
time, I’d have one like a shot because I sense it would make an ideal
grass-track racer.
If you’re looking for a new car today, though, I’m not sure. Yes, the Octavia
is cheap compared with other Volkswagen products, but it’s not that far away
from either the Subaru Forester or the Legacy, both of which offer similar
quality, similar interior space and similar four-wheel-drive traction.
Without the dreary styling or the crummy badge.
VITAL STATISTICS
Model Skoda Octavia FSI 4x4 estate
Engine four-cylinder, 1984cc
Power 150bhp @ 6000rpm
Torque 148 lb ft @ 3500rpm
Transmission Six-speed manual
Fuel 31.7mpg (combined cycle)
CO2 214g/km
Acceleration 0-62mph: 9.7sec
Top speed 126mph
Price £16,750
Verdict Well built and good value but slightly dull
Rating 3/5
