I’ve just bought a new laptop, and with the benefit of foggy ignorance it
seems fine. When I press a key the corresponding letter appears on the
screen, and when I look in its internet there are many photographs of naked
ladies.
However, people who know about computers would probably laugh in my face. “Oh,
the Latitude D600,” they might snigger, “that's only got 64 giga MB and
125KzH. And the DOS function corrupts the BIOS if you engage the driver.”
I, of course, behave in exactly the same way when I see someone drive past in
a Renault Scénic. Because what we have here is a slower, less wieldy, less
economical, less attractive and more expensive version of the normal Renault
Mégane. And all you’re getting in exchange for the extra cash is more
height.
But what good is that? Do your children go to school in stovepipe hats? Is
your dog a giraffe? Are you Ray Dorset? No. So of what possible use is a
foot of air above your hair?
They call it a mini people carrier, but since it only has five seats — the
same number as a Fiat Panda, for heaven’s sake — it’s not a people carrier.
What it is, though, is just about the most stupid car in the world.
But it’s not just the Scénic. The hateful Daewoo Tacuma and the bulbous
Citroën Picasso are similarly blighted, and I laugh openly at people
travelling in those, too.
I would also laugh if I saw someone in a Ford Focus C-Max, but nobody has
actually bought one yet. And nobody ever will because you’d have to be such
a swivel-eyed loony to do so that they’d never have given you a driving
licence in the first place.
Let me help you out here. If you have a family of above-average size, and you
can’t or won’t stretch to a full-size MPV like a Renault Espace, there is
only one car you can buy and that’s the one that comes with the most seats —
the Vauxhall Zafira.
Choosing to buy one of the others rather than this is like flying to America
on an American airline rather than using British Airways. Or like holidaying
in Germany rather than in France. Choosing the Vauxhall Zafira is a complete
no-brainer. It’s been around for about a thousand years now and I find it
genuinely staggering that no other car maker on the planet has chosen to
copy it, because it’s quite brilliant.
It’s only an inch longer than a normal Astra estate, so it’s no harder to
park, yet inside, the sheer versatility of it boggles the mind. It is still
the only seven-seater in this sector of the market, and what makes it stand
out even more is that the back seats don’t need to be lifted out and stored
in the garage when you feel you need to move a filing cabinet or some bags
of compost. Because they simply fold away into the boot floor.
As for drawbacks, well my wife says she can’t find a comfortable driving
position, but since she would find even Barbie’s wardrobe “a bit baggy”,
this is unlikely to be a problem for anyone else.
It drives nicely in a soft and unassuming sort of way, it appears to be well
screwed together, and with prices starting at around £14,500 it’s good
value, too. Yes, a Scénic is cheaper, but so is a toaster. And so is a head
cold. The Scénic costs less for exactly the same reason that typewriters
cost less than laptops.
To give you an idea of how clever the Zafira is, the man who designed it went
on to design the new Porsche Carrera GT. However, your life has to be a
pretty hopeless and lacklustre sea of corduroy for you to even think about
buying what, in essence, is a Vauxhall minibus. I mean, Jesus, what are you
saying about yourself? “I’ve had some children. I have fulfilled my
requirements and soon, hopefully, I can die.”
Sean Connery, for instance, would never drive a Vauxhall Zafira. And nor would
Mick Jagger. Can you see Jude Law thinking, “Well, I need something
practical now that I’m a single dad”? The whole idea of a mini people
carrier is bad enough, but with a Vauxhall badge on the front? That’s like a
branch of Millets in Tunbridge Wells. It’s as low as you can go.
Vauxhall obviously realised this and, to try to make life a little bit more
bearable for the poor sods who need one of its cars, there is a £20,000
turbocharged version called the GSi. It’s the fastest MPV on the road and
the idea is that you take the kids to school then come home at such a lick
that your ears catch fire. You are not just Daddy. You are Daddy Cool.
But can this be done? Is it actually possible to make something which is very obviously not fun, fun?
There is some evidence to suggest that it’s not possible. Church for example.
Here is something designed to be functional and austere. The chilly
buildings, the hard benches, the long sermons with their torturous metaphors
about goodness. That’s what church is supposed to be — dull, cold and
miserable, and if you start to turbocharge the experience with guitars and
clapping it looks ridiculous.
It’s the same story with the internet. This is a vast research library full of
facts and information, some of which is correct. But the idea that grazing
it in your spare time could be “fun” is laughable.
Sherry is another example. Try to jazz it up with ice and a twist and some
mint and you’ll find you have a significant part of the bar all to yourself.
And jogging. You run to stay fit, and staying fit is not and never will be
fun, no matter how snazzy your training shoes are or how cool the tune might
be that’s being drip-fed from an iPod into your head.
And there’s your problem with turbocharging the Zafira. If Vauxhall had fitted
stripes and spoilers and exhaust pipes like dustbins, the end result would
have been more daft than a happy-clappy vicar playing ZZ Top as he jogs
round the parish in his Nike Air Stormers.
They faced an even bigger problem with the engineering, though: do you really
want the usual turbo accoutrements of a hard ride and a throaty roar in
what, for 90% of the time, is a school bus?
I’m delighted to say, however, that the tweaks have been as successful as the
initial design. With a set of fairly restrained alloy wheels the Zafira
turbo is a lot more Jonny Wilkinson than David Beckham — if you know what I
mean — and to drive, it is still quiet and comfortable and restrained.
But because it has a turbocharged 2 litre engine pumping out 200bhp, it is
also very fast. There’s a muscularity to the acceleration, a sense that
you’re riding a tidal wave of torque between each gearchange. There’s none
of the frantic buzziness you normally get from a small twin-cam — it’s more
like a V8.
Obviously, because it’s still a soft car, you don’t expect it to corner with
much alacrity, and sure enough it doesn’t. In fact, on a wet road it’s very
easy indeed to induce a sickening bout of understeer.
But that’s not the biggest problem. The biggest problem is that when you drive
this car fast you feel like a complete prat. Not so much Daddy Cool as Daddy
Fool.
Let me put it this way: it is possible to dance in a pair of quilted slippers
. . . but that certainly doesn’t mean you should.
VITAL STATISTICS
Model: Vauxhall Zafira GSi 2.0i
Engine type: Four-cylinder 1998cc turbo
Power: 200bhp @ 5400 rpm
Torque: 184 lb ft @ 1950rpm
Transmission: Five-speed manual, front-wheel drive
Suspension: (front) independent MacPherson struts (rear)
torsion tube with compound links
Tyres: 225/45 R17
Acceleration: 0 to 60mph: 7.6sec
Top speed: 137mph
Price: £20,645
Verdict: Brilliantly practical and nicely restrained styling, but
driving a people carrier quickly is deeply embarrassing
