As the sole European member of the Motor1 US team, I often prod my colleagues about just how good I have it when it comes to car variety. Despite living in an SUV era, Europe still has hatchbacks, sedans, and wagons abound. I can still get a regular Volkswagen Golf here in Romania, even with a manual gearbox. However, in 2017, I chose its superior alternative: The Skoda Octavia.
For those who don't know, "Octavia" is derived from the Latin word for "eight." Skoda opted for this moniker because the original car, launched in 1959, was its eighth model after the end of World War II. My car turned eight a few weeks ago, so I figured now would be the right time to report on what it’s been like living with Czechia’s hugely successful family car.
What I Love About My Skoda
My Skoda has been a reliable partner from day one. I’ve never had a problem with it, and it still runs as if I just drove it off the dealer lot. It has been religiously serviced every year by a mechanic whom I fully trust. I always ask him to give the car a once-over and tell me if there’s something I should replace. That hasn’t happened so far.
The car has nearly 90,000 kilometers—or 56,000 freedom units—on the odometer. There are a few reasons why the mileage is relatively low. During the first years of ownership, I still had my old car, a Kia Pro Ceed coupe, which I drove when I needed to run errands by myself. Then, COVID-19 arrived in 2020, when my daughter was barely three years old. My wife and I decided not to take any risks, so we stayed home for the better part of two years.
I went on to replace the Kia with a far more exciting car, a Mazda MX-5 Miata RF (ND2), which I had for about a year. I had my fun with the "mid-life crisis" car, but I ultimately parted ways with the hardtop convertible because I didn’t have the time to enjoy it thoroughly. Since mid-2023, the Octavia has been my only car.
There are many reasons why I like the Octavia. Despite being labeled as a compact car, it’s about as large as a VW Passat. It's immensely practical, especially when compared to the Golf upon which it’s based. I still think it’s the perfect body style since it combines the silhouette of a sedan with the tailgate of a hatchback. Hot take: all sedans should be hatchbacks, or better said, liftbacks.
There’s plenty of room in the back, and the huge cargo area can accommodate bulky items with ease. It can swallow 20.8 cubic feet (590 liters) behind the rear seats, and if you fold them down, there’s enough room to cram in a mattress I bought for my daughter’s bed.
I bought the car just before the VW Group began to slide down a slippery slope in terms of interiors. The build quality is rock-solid, and there are still plenty of physical buttons and knobs that I use without taking my eyes off the road. Muscle memory is safer than relying on a touchscreen. I know, I know; old man yells at cloud.
The dashboard layout with the screen fully integrated is just about perfect, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Well, maybe I’d get rid of the blank buttons that remind me I didn’t tick all the boxes on the options list.
But I did splurge on extras. My friends and family were surprised to see heated rear seats in a Skoda. My Octavia also has dual USB ports in the back, which weren’t that common on mainstream cars eight years ago. When extra charging juice is necessary beyond what those outdated USB ports can deliver, I rely on the rear power outlet (150 watts), a rare feature in this segment.
The engine is a gem. It’s the ubiquitous 1.8 TSI, specifically the EA888 in its third generation. The VW Group largely addressed the problems of its predecessors, including high oil consumption, timing chain issues, and water pump leaks. The turbocharged four-cylinder engine delivers 180 hp and 184 pound-feet (250 Nm) of torque.
Ok, that might not sound like much in horsepower-hungry America, but the Octavia is a relatively light car, weighing in at just over 3,000 pounds (1,360 kilograms). It’s no slouch either, doing 0 to 62 mph (100 km/h) in roughly seven seconds. I won’t be setting Nürburgring records anytime soon, but the engine is poky enough for what I need.
I opted for the six-speed manual, but in hindsight, I should’ve splurged on the dual-clutch automatic. As a man pushing 40 and having to do school runs in rush hour in a crowded city, the stick is honestly becoming a nuisance. Not going for the DSG is without a doubt my biggest regret. My next car will certainly be an automatic. I already know what I’ll buy, but more on that later.
What I Don't Love About My Skoda
I still don’t like the split headlights. They look like knockoff lights for a Mercedes E-Class (W212) from Temu. I get what Skoda was trying to do by making the inner part of the headlight merge with the grille, but it just doesn’t work. It irks me to see how the bumper divides the headlight into two pieces. It’s worth noting that despite the apparent split layout, the headlight is actually a one-piece unit.
Although it features a full-LED setup, the headlights are not particularly impressive. Perhaps the Miata’s superior matrix LEDs spoiled me, and now I’m finding the Octavia’s headlights a downgrade. The current-generation model does a far better job at illuminating the road ahead, and the headlights also look way nicer.
The gearing is annoyingly long. It’s my fault for not driving an Octavia before buying it. I didn’t, because there wasn’t one available at my local dealer with the 1.8 TSI, so I figured, why bother? Big mistake. It really hinders the engine’s capabilities, but I assume Skoda went this way to improve efficiency. After all, European emissions regulations are the strictest in the world.
The rear suspension is a bit on the loud side. It’s been this way since day one, though it’s not a major concern since the noise only becomes noticeable on rough roads. The car also sits higher than I’d like, but I’ve been told VW/Skoda tunes the suspension based on the country. Because roads in Romania are some of the worst in Europe, ground clearance is higher. While I’m not a fan of modifying cars, I may lower it one day.
On the other hand, my Octavia features a multi-link rear setup, a benefit that comes with the 1.8-liter engine. I’ve driven lower-spec Octavias with a torsion beam, and the difference is noticeable. The VW Group used to equip most configurations of its compact cars with an independent rear suspension, but in the era of cost-cutting, every euro saved counts.
Soundproofing could be better. The car tends to get noisy at higher speeds, and while I know the Octavia isn’t a luxury car, I still wish it had more noise-absorbing materials. The fancier Superb does better in that regard, but it was simply too expensive for what I was looking for when I went car shopping eight years ago.
I wish the Octavia had a larger fuel tank. At 23.5 miles per gallon (10 liters/100 kilometers) in the city, fuel consumption isn’t terrible for a non-hybrid with a relatively large engine. Well, “large” by European standards, as three-cylinder 1.0-liter engines are unfortunately prevalent on the continent. I can’t drive it for more than 310 miles (500 kilometers) in the city before the gas light turns on. Out on the open road, I can probably nearly double that if I fully commit to hypermiling.
The infotainment system is occasionally laggy, but perhaps I shouldn’t complain, given the numerous software issues newer VW Group cars have experienced. Support for wireless Android Auto would’ve been nice, although I’m probably nitpicking by now.
So, What’s Next?
Well, not much. I plan to keep the car for at least another five years. The EU’s ban on new cars with combustion engines is looming, but I intend to get a final ICE car before they’re outlawed. The cut-off date is 2035, so I still have about nine years left to take the plunge.
When the time comes, it’ll be another Skoda, either another Octavia or I’ll stretch the budget for a Superb. Either way, it’ll definitely be a wagon. As practical as my pseudo-sedan is, a wagon’s taller rear section makes it even more spacious.
Sure, I could get a nicer, lightly used BMW 3 Series Touring, but I’d always worry about maintenance and repair costs. The Octavia has been cheap to run and trouble-free so far, so I’d trust Skoda once again with my money. However, I'll have to fork out a lot more. I paid about €22,000 in 2017, but an equivalent car is now well over €30,000. Upgrading to a Superb would push the price into €40,000 territory. Skoda isn't an isolated case; that's how the cookie crumbles with new car prices around the world.
Skoda Octavia eight-year ownership
