I’d like to begin this morning with an apology. For the past few weeks I’ve
been filling these pages with cars you might actually buy, rather than cars
you dream about. It’s been a drizzle of Golfs and Civics, rather than a
scarlet blaze of Gallardos and Scagliettis.
I thought this would go down well. I thought you’d appreciate some time in the
real world. But it seems not. Sure, the handful of letters I used to get
complaining about my love of million-horsepower two-seater supercars have
dried up, but they’ve been replaced with a flood of missives from people
asking me to get back where I belong.
“No more Hondas,” you say, as though you think I enjoy bumbling round in the
pensioner’s special. No more crummy Volkswagens. No more Fiat Pandas. It
seems you’re just not interested in the bread and butter; only the jam.
So you’ll probably be jolly angry this morning to find I’m wasting your time
with a 1.6 litre five-door family hatchback called the Mazda3. But look at
it this way. I’m only wasting 10 of your minutes. It wasted a whole week for
me.
I honestly thought it would be good. I thought it would stand head, shoulders
and torso above all the competition and that we could draw a line under this
hatchback malarkey once and for all. I thought I’d conclude by saying it’s
the best of them all, and then next week we could get back to the thin air
out there beyond Mach 1.
Mazda has always been a left-field choice for those wanting a Jap-o-box. They
were just as reliable as the equivalent Toyotas and Nissans but somehow they
were never quite as dreary. Maybe this is because they’re made in Hiroshima.
Maybe there’s something in the water there.
Mazda may have been nothing more than a division of Ford for the past 25
years, but they’re the only ones to have persevered with Wankel rotary
engines. They were the ones who reintroduced the sports car in the shape of
the still-marvellous MX-5, and they were responsible for what I think is the
best-looking Japanese car of them all — the old RX-7.
In recent months, though, they’ve gone berserk. First of all there was the
Mazda6, which is certainly the most handsome and possibly the best driving
mid-range four-door saloon money can buy. Then there was the Mazda2, which
I’m told is pretty good. And sitting above them all, like a golden halo, was
the RX-8.
It’s not perfect. It’s not as powerful as the initial projections led us to
believe, and the Wankel engine uses oil and petrol in equal measure. But you
have to love those backward-opening rear doors, and the price, the
smoothness and the perfect front-engine, rear-drive balance. And then
there’s the styling which, according to my daughter, is “way cool”.
So all the evidence suggested the Mazda3 would be les genoux de la bee.
And there’s more good omen too, because it’s based on the next-generation
Ford Focus. Quite a pedigree when you remember the current Ford Focus is
quite simply the best-handling hatchback of them all. The Mazda3, I figured,
would be the biggest blast to come out of Hiroshima for nearly 60 years.
Well, it isn’t. And that means I have to use the strongest word in the English
language: “disappointing”.
When I was younger, my bank manager would write from time to time saying he
was “saddened” to note that I hadn’t done anything about my overdraft. This
was no big deal. And nor would it have mattered if he’d said he was “angry”,
“livid” or “incandescent with rage”.
He could have been whatever he liked, but it still wouldn’t have altered the
fact that I had three thousand of his bank’s pounds and no intention of
doing anything about it.
But then one day he wrote to say he was “disappointed” and that changed
everything.
That meant he’d had high hopes for me and that I had let him down. Suddenly it
was all my fault.
Try this with your kids. Tell them you’re really cross and I guarantee it
won’t make a ha’porth of difference. Tell them you’re disappointed and
they’ll immediately clean their room and take up the cello.
I’m no stranger to the concept of disappointment. There was Bob Seger’s last
album, for a kick-off. And then there’s my yew hedge, which is six years old
and still only six inches high. But the Mazda was something new. It’s not
just worse than I was expecting, it’s worse than I’d have expected even if I
wasn’t expecting anything.
I mean, why, for instance, base a car on the Ford Focus — which has
independent rear suspension — and then not fit independent rear suspension?
Yes, Mazda saves a pound, but I end up disappointed.
And why do the brakes have to be operated with a switch? Sometimes you just
want to slow down a bit, but the Mazda can’t do that. You’re either going
along normally, or you’re stationary with your face all squidged on the
windscreen and blood pouring out of your ruined nose.
Yes, you get Electronic Brakeforce Distribution, Emergency Brake Assist and
antilock, but I’d trade all of that for a bit of “feel”.
It’s the same deal with all the controls, actually. There’s no finesse to the
gearbox, the clutch or the steering. There’s a sense, with everything, of
pared-to-the-bone, penny-pinching, accountancy-driven engineering.
Then there’s the styling. Mazda says that with its long wheelbase and
aggressively flared fenders it has an assertive presence, even when viewed
from a distance. What are they on about? A werewolf has an assertive
presence. Nelson Mandela has an assertive presence. The USS Nimitz has an
assertive presence . . . but the Mazda3 is no more assertive than soil.
It’s especially unassertive at a distance because it would take such a long
time to get from wherever it is to wherever you are. You can buy a 2 litre
version, which is probably capable of movement, but I tried the 1.6, which
isn’t.
Mazda says the 1.4 is “lively”, and the 2 litre “powerful”, but is plainly
stumped with the middle-order 1.6, which it describes as “highly balanced”.
“Asthmatic” is perhaps more accurate. “Strained” is good, too. “Woefully
short of oomph” works as well.
Strangely, it’s not short of power. With 103bhp on tap, it’s right in the
standard 1.6 litre ballpark, but somewhere between the engine and the road
it all seems to escape.
Time and again I’d gird my loins for an overtaking manoeuvre on the A44 — it’s
never easy — and time and again I’d realise as I drew level with the Rover I
was trying to pass, that I didn’t have enough grunt. So I’d get on the
brakes and then have to spend the rest of the journey picking bits of
gristle and cartilage out of the heater vents.
As far as price and equipment levels are concerned, it’s fine. My TS2 model
costs £13,600 — about the same as a Focus 1.6 Ghia — and came with
air-conditioning, curtain airbags, a CD player and traction control — a
little more than you get on a Focus.
But this is not enough, I’m afraid, to swing the pendulum Mazda’s way. Last
week, in the Good Car Bad Car Guide, I said that those wanting a car of this
type should choose between the Golf, the Focus and the Renault Mégane.
Nothing’s changed.
Well one thing has. I’ve had enough of testing humdrum hatchbacks so I’m going
to sign off now, ring Aston Martin and get my hands on a DB9.
VITAL STATISTICS
Model: Mazda3 1.6 TS2 5dr
Engine type: Four-cylinder, 1598cc
Power: 103bhp @ 6000rpm
Torque: 107 lb ft @ 4000rpm
Transmission: Five-speed manual, front-wheel drive
Suspension: (front) independent with MacPherson struts (rear)
multilink with angle dampers
Tyres: 205/55 R16
Fuel: 39.2mpg (combined)
CO2: 172g/km
Top speed: 114mph
Acceleration: 0 to 62mph: 11.0sec
Price: £13,600
Verdict: Really quite disappointing
