It was the strangest thing. I was driving along a smooth and wide A-road the other day, minding my own business, and in an instant my whole life changed. Because someone overtook me. I was absolutely flabbergasted because I’m not sure that had ever happened before. And it wasn’t a Subaru Impreza or some kind of mad Lamborghini. It was a Volvo.
And that was that. Throughout my 45-year driving career I was young and thrusting and fast, and then all of a sudden, I was a doddery old man who’d got in someone’s way so badly, they’d felt compelled to drive on the wrong side of the road for a little while so they could overtake.
In recent months it has been happening more and more. I’m overtaken quite a lot. And just last week I glanced in my rear-view mirror and was shocked to see not one or two cars up my chuff, but what appeared to be an endless metal snake. A snake filled with people who needed to get to a doctor’s appointment or to the shops before they shut. A snake that contained not just Volvos but hearses as well. And tractors. And they were all being held up by me because, for no reason, I was doing 60km/h.
I never used to drive at 60km/h unless I was just passing through on my way to 120. But nowadays I do 60 quite a lot. And sometimes not even that. I came out of Chipping Norton the other day, past the speed derestriction sign, where I would normally floor it in second, and I thought, “I can’t be bothered to accelerate because I’m turning off in a couple of miles.”
In the past couple of years, I’ve driven some heroically fast cars. Stuff like that electric Audi, which is light-speed quick. And in the past, I’d have whooped and bounced up and down in my seat as the speedo careered round the dial like the altimeter on a crashing airliner. Speed, and the feel of it, made me happy. But now it frightens me a bit.
We know that we change as we get older. We recognise that our ears will become enormous, and that hair will shuffle out of our nose holes like an emerging badger. We are ready for this, along with aching knees and stubborn hangovers. But no one tells us that we will no longer be in much of a hurry to get anywhere.
It’s counterintuitive, if you think about it, because I’m now 62. I can see the darkness at the end of the brightly lit and fun-filled tunnel. I should therefore be driving like a maniac because the faster I get to where I’m going, the more I’ll be able to see and do in the short time I have left. But I’m not. I’m doing 60 and I’m in your way and not getting to where I’m going until after it’s shut.
All of which brings me on to m’colleague James May. As we all know, he reached the age of 62 when he was about nine. He has always liked brown furniture and harpsichords and wartime meat products. As a result, he has always driven very carefully and very, very slowly. He’s a glacier, really, with arms. And he has argued for some time that, all things considered, the BMW 320i is the best car in the world.
The BMW 320i M Sport Touring 2.0i
Well, as I’m now his age, and also a careful and slow driver, I thought I’d better try one out to see if maybe he has a point. It was the Touring estate version, finished in navy blue. “Ah,” said James when I told him about it, “you’ve got the best colour as well.”
This is an all-new model, but you’d need a keen eye to tell. It’s very 3 Series-ish, and that’s a good thing because elsewhere in the range BMW has gone mad, fitting radiator grilles the size of long-stay airport car parks.
At present there are six engines on offer. Diesels and hybrids and so on. And now there is an M3 Touring. You can also have four-wheel drive. But if you aren’t interested in hanging the tail out or peeling your face off or going skiing, the entry-level 320 is probably the best bet. Especially with M Sport trim, which makes everything look very snazzy.
Inside the cabinThe interior is wondrous because everything makes perfect sense. Normally touchscreen infotainment systems can be a pain in the neck because to adjust anything you have to find your spectacles and poke away in various submenus until you find what you’re looking for. In the Beemer, however, everything you regularly want is just there, on the home screen.
And I properly liked the dashboard. Especially when you push the Sport button, because everything goes red and there are pictures of lava. Obviously, you’re never actually going to use sport mode because why would you want to be uncomfortable? But it’s fun to engage it at the lights. And then go back into gooey comfort mode when you set off.
The ride is just brilliant. You never feel it crashing or banging. You never really feel anything at all. Power? Well, this may be the entry-level version with the baby four-cylinder engine, but it accelerates easily to 60km/h and will sit there happily all day. Sipping fuel like a vicar at a funeral sip’s tea.
In the name of research, I did a brief burst of fast driving and it all felt beautiful. Balanced, poised, taut. And rear-wheel drive, which is always better, because it means the front wheels aren’t being asked to steer and propel the car, while those at the back just tag along doing bugger all. You never think you’d be able to tell the difference, but you actually can. Even when you’re old and in the way.
It’s extraordinary to think that when the BMW 3 series first came along it was nothing more than a glorified Ford Cortina. It has grown up so much since then. It’s still, when all is said and done, a rep-mobile, even though there are no reps anymore. But it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like quality.
I’m duty bound to report a couple of tiny weeny faults. The door pockets aren’t lined, so anything you put in there rattles. And in common with various other BMWs, I’ve tried in recent years, my dongle wi-fi thing wouldn’t work when I plugged it into what we used to call the cigarette lighter. It works in every other car I ever drive. But not Beemers.
For this reason alone, I’m going to knock a star off. But if you’re not bothered about on-the-move wi-fi, or you have an alternative solution, make no mistake: James May is right. When you reach a certain age and you don’t want to show off, or go fast, or have something on stilts with battery propulsion, this is very probably the best car in the world.
BMW 320i M Sport Touring 2.0i
ENGINE: 2.0-litre, four cylinder, turbo (135kW/300Nm).
FUEL ECONOMY: 6.5 litres per 100km
TRANSMISSION: 8-speed automatic
PRICE: $78,900
