I have spent a fair bit of time recently worrying about how my colleagues in the Travel section of the paper are faring. Because how do you review a holiday when the nearest you can get to it is a stairwell at the airport? And even if the hack makes it to the half-built Spanish ruin with far-reaching views over various other half-built ruins, what’s the point of writing a report, because no matter how appealing you make it sound, the endless stream of cancelled flights means none of the readers can actually get there. You may as well write about holidays in the Andromeda galaxy.
And then it occurred to me that I’m in an even more preposterous situation. I don’t want to talk myself out of a job, but it’s difficult to see why I’m writing a motoring column this morning. Because even if you could buy a new car – and you can’t due to the semiconductor shortage – the rising costs of living mean you wouldn’t be able to afford to go anywhere in it.
Mostly, people are sticking with the car they have now. But even that is fraught with difficulty. I hit a pothole back in June and two tyres were damaged so badly that they needed to be replaced. Expensive? Actually no, because the tyres just aren’t available. As a result, my car has been off the road for six weeks. I’ve thought about fashioning some rudimentary alternatives from wood, but you can’t get that either. Or steel. Or concrete. Or anything, really.
Anyway, I’ve spent the past week driving around in a mildly facelifted version of Volkswagen’s hot T-Roc. In essence the T-Roc is a Golf on stilts, and it has been a big success. But the interior was always a bit drab and brittle, so VW has fitted a new, soft-touch alternative with screens and haptic buttons instead of buttons and knobs. It looks funky in there now, and modern. Like a Berlin vodka bar. But I did have to use my spectacles every time I wanted to change any of the settings, which meant that momentarily the view outside the car became blurry. I guess this is the way with modern cars: they’re designed by foetuses, for foetuses.
And that’s fine with the T-Roc. It was plainly designed for the young family man or woman – people whose eyes can deal just as well with dots on the steering wheel and cyclists half a mile ahead. It’s a car for the pampas-grass-and-BBQ, gym-together family, and it makes sense. It’s well made, the boot’s big, and providing you’re not my girlfriend Lisa – who’s 187cm tall – there’s room in the back for three sprogs. It even has a cool Berlin vodka bar name: T-Roc. However, the version I drove was the hot and pulsating R model, and I simply can’t see the point of it at all because under the bonnet you get a two-litre engine that is turbocharged so vigorously, it churns out 221kW. This tremendous power is fed via a seven-speed double-clutch gearbox to all four wheels, so there is the grip to match the supercar levels of get-up-and-go. It’s a very fast car. And it sounds even faster than that. On the overrun the exhausts snuffle and pop and bang, and when you put your foot down the blend into hyperspace is accompanied by a rorty growl. It sounds like a dog that’s becoming increasingly angry. I liked this aspect a lot.
I did not, however, like the ride. To give it a sporty feel the suspension has been lowered, which means there’s less give, and on the potholes that Oxfordshire county council won’t mend the result is a spine-jarring, teeth-smashing bag of awfulness.
I also don’t like the price very much. When all is said and done, it’s rather a lot to pay for a medium-sized multi-purpose vehicle. If you were interested in driving quickly, and the feel and the noise and the sensations of getting a bend just right, you’d have the ordinary Golf R instead. Of course, you would.
The T-Roc R, then, is a sporty Wellington. It’s very clever that they’ve made a family vehicle exciting to drive, but ultimately, it’s as ridiculous as a car review column at the moment. That’s why next week I shall probably review the Bugatti Royale.
Except I won’t, because I’m supposed to be going on holiday. Which means I’ll go to the airport, lose my luggage and then after queueing for six hours for a flight that’s been cancelled, come home again. But not in my car, as it still only has two functioning wheels.
Volkswagen T-Roc R 2.0 TSI 4Motion DSG
ENGINE: 2.0 litre TSI four-cylinder turbo petrol (221kW/400Nm). Average fuel 7.8 litres per 100km (est)
TRANSMISSION: 7-speed automatic, all-wheel drive
PRICE: From $59,300
STARS: 4 out of 5
