My eye was caught recently by the story of an epic police chase. It involved
six police cars, a helicopter and three roadblocks. It all sounded very
dramatic, but what made this particular pursuit especially noteworthy was
that the police were after a 12mph tractor.
So why not simply jog alongside the John Deere, open the door and remove the
keys from the ignition? Why bring in the airborne cavalry? Why six jam
sandwiches? Well, it’s simple. The spectacle of a rosy-cheeked plod running
alongside a tractor isn’t very Hollywood. Whereas using tyre-slashing
stingers and patrol cars and a helicopter with a gyro-mounted infrared
camera is sure to get the footage on one of those World’s Wildest Police
Chase programmes.
I sometimes get the impression these days that the police force is actually a
film production company and that pretty soon criminals will be advised that
anything they say may be taken down and translated . . . for the Spanish
market. People being arrested shouldn’t bother with a lawyer. They’re better
off calling an agent.
We assume that Sir Ian Blair, the Metropolitan police chief, is being
investigated because an innocent Brazilian man was killed to death on a Tube
train. But can we be sure? Maybe he’s being investigated because there was a
breakdown in communication. When the officers on the scene were told to go
“for a head shot”, the powers that be were after a good close-up, not a
bucketload of claret all over Her Majesty’s Northern line.
Worse, the moment was not captured on film, which means the subsequent press
conferences are just talking heads. And that’s bad TV. You need to cut to
some action once in a while.
That brings me back to the question of televised police car chases. Plod may
be trying to liven things up by chasing tractors and so on, but in Britain
they are hampered by their dreary cars.
In America they have big Ford Crown Victorias with ramming bars on the front
and shotgun racks. And Crown Vics are rear-wheel drive, which means the
officer can power slide round corners. This is slow, but it looks great from
the helicopter tracking platform.
Here, plod bumbles about in diesel-powered Vauxhall Astras, which don’t look
good at all. However, some of the blame must also be laid at the door of our
car thieves and drunken drivers, who usually manage one corner before
bumping into a skip or a lamppost. No video clip show is going to pay more
than £200 for a shot of that.
In America car thieves and drunken drivers do 100mph pirouettes on the freeway
and drive at full tilt through petrol stations. They leave a trail of
destruction in their wake and a sky full of mushroom clouds. Plus, when
they’re finally apprehended, they are made to lie on the floor, in front of
the patrol car’s camera, while vicious men in stormtrooper uniforms poke
hand cannons into their ears.
Here, after Gary has bumped into a skip he takes off on foot and then we’re
treated to the edifying spectacle of a slightly portly policeman attempting
to give chase on foot. Often, the suspect is finally apprehended, off
camera, by a dog.
Surely the police should put a call in to the BBC’s natural history unit in
Bristol? It’s here that they develop cameras which can be inserted into a
mayfly’s nostril, so how hard would it be to fit a camera to a police dog’s
collar? Then we could see the drunken driver being eaten, and that’s got to
be worth, ooh, at least £2,000.
And that would pay for better patrol cars, which would make the chases better,
which would generate even more cash.
Not an Audi A6, though. As a police cruiser this is a complete non-starter.
Enlivened only by a radiator grille that somehow resembles George Michael’s
goatee, it has about as much on-screen presence as the table on which Jack
Nicholson and Jessica Lange cavorted in The Postman Only Rings Twice. You
just don’t notice it.
And you especially don’t notice the estate version I’ve been using this past
week. It’s just 16ft of car.
But when you actually stand back you have to admit that, through the fog of
anonymity, it does have a certain grace. I’ve noticed this with a lot of
today’s estate cars. They are so much better looking than their saloon
brothers. Even the 5-series BMW is a handsome brute when it has a kennel on
the back.
But the Audi’s better. And it’s got a better engine. I tried the 4.2 litre V8
and, at first, was a bit disappointed. When you buy Luciano Pavarotti you
expect him to bellow, not hum, like’s he’s in the bath. But again it’s all
part of the car’s quiet charm. It gets on with the business of being fast
without making a song and dance.
And it is fast. With 330bhp on tap it’ll deliver you to the door of 62mph in a
little over 6sec and keep on going to the predictable maximum of 155mph.
Of course, being an Audi, the ride’s not great and the steering’s woefully
vague. But again, I don’t care. Because this is an estate car, something you
bought to be practical. And anyway, the ride and steering are a damn sight
better than the four-wheel-drive SUV you will almost certainly buy instead.
I’m not sure why. Of course, the Audi’s four-wheel-drive system will not take
you to the top of Everest, but then again it won’t roll in the bends, or use
a ton of fuel every 5ft and it won’t be vandalised by your local Liberal
Democrat representatives.
Do you get less space than you would in, say, a Porsche Cayenne? Not really.
The A6 has easily enough room for three in the middle, and while the boot
isn’t exactly Fingal’s Cave it’s not a rabbit hole either. A medium-sized
dog would fit in there just fine.
There are, however, two issues. The first is price. For the V8 you pay £45,390
and then you’re raped on the options list. I mean, £85 for a storage pack,
£575 for a Bose stereo upgrade, £75 for a reversible luggage bay mat and
£575 for all the parking sensors. The list goes on and on and took the
actual cost of my test car to £52,390. That’s a lot for an A6.
But it’s not the price that really put me off. The interior, especially at
night, looks wonderful. But only because it looks like the bridge of a
nuclear submarine. Everything is bathed in a lovely red glow, but it’s all
so damn complicated.
I mean, the heated seats. You turn them on and adjust the temperature on a
separate control. Why? Then there’s the tiptronic gearbox. You use one of
the paddles to drop down a gear so you can overtake, but you have to move
the lever around to get it back in auto mode. Why? There was one button that
I didn’t dare push in case it blew all the ballast tanks and I sank.
I suppose if you’re computer literate or the captain of USS Dallas you’d
probably be right at home in there, but I grew tired after a while of
turning the wipers on while trying to change gear. And the satellite
navigation has the targeting capabilities of a first world war airship.
So there’s a fair bit wrong with the A6 Avant 4.2 quattro SE Tiptronic, but I
keep coming back to its effortless power and quiet styling. It really does
speak softly while wielding a big stick.
I parked it outside a large Georgian country house last weekend and rarely has
a car looked so right. It should be part of the Country Life check list:
sash windows, wisteria, Audi estate car.
It would also be the ideal car in which to escape from a bank job. Because
even if the police did notice it and give chase with their gunships you’d
still get clean away.
VITAL STATISTICS
Model Audi A6 Avant quattro SE Tiptronic
Engine 4172cc, V8
Power 330bhp @ 6600rpm
Torque 310 lb ft @ 3500rpm
Transmission Six-speed tiptronic
Fuel 23.9mpg (combined cycle)
CO2 283g/km
Acceleration 0-62mph: 6.2sec
Top speed 155mph
Price £45,390
Rating 4/5
Verdict Perfect for an aristocratic getaway driver with a
naval background and a dog
