Price £22,320
MPG up to 76.3
Top speed 149mph
In the list of adjectives used to describe Volkswagen’s Passat, the word “boring” crops up a lot. A Passat is a car – it’s not a queue, or an ad break, or a selfie, or Bono. How can it be boring? I’ve spent enough time waiting on the hard shoulder of life to know that being reliable might be boring in a partner, but it’s not in a car. It’s driving, not dating. The Passat is also practical (yawn), economical (dullsville) and nice to sit in (good grief). When I was young, my mother used to tell me that being bored was just a lack of imagination…
The Passat, in fact, is VW’s secret weapon. Like a silent ninja, it has the ability to match and then exceed the qualities of all its competitors – without seeming to try too hard.
VW sells more than 1.1m Passats every year. Since 1973 it has shifted over 22m – which means a Passat arrives into the welcoming arms of a new family every 29 seconds. At the moment, more than the Beetle or the Golf, it is VW’s bestselling model. Boring, shmoring? It has a truly global reach and is sold everywhere, though not always as a Passat: elsewhere it’s the Dasher, Quantum, Santana, Corsar, Carat and Magotan. In America they get a slightly longer version, built in a new plant in Chattanooga. Can you be boring if you are built in Chattanooga?
This new Passat is the eighth generation. It’s lower and wider and very slightly shorter than the seventh (2mm – the scale of that number gives you an insight into the forensic attention VW brings to its products). It’s also 85kg lighter. Weight is crucial in the battle for efficiency. It takes less power and less fuel to shift it, so dumping the equivalent of a full-time passenger is a big deal. From the outside, this all-new model is more angular than the last – designers have had enough of curves and wraparound lenses. We’re back once again to hard edges, creases and folded corners. It looks fresh, for now at least. But it also looks sensible and utilitarian which suits its job-done approach to the road. Only diesel engines are on offer at the moment, but soon there will be a plug-in petrol-electric hybrid and a super-efficient Bluemotion version which will do 78mpg and emit a piffling 95g/km of CO² emissions.
Inside it’s roomy and comfortable, and has an enormous boot. The sharp aesthetic continues with horizontal bolsters on the seats, a squared-off steering wheel and an old-school flat dashboard. The real step change, however, is technology. It’s so loaded with gadgetry there’s hardly any actual driving left to do. In terms of tricks up its sleeve, the Passat gives Derren Brown a run for his money. A couple of high points are its 360-degree radar system, which monitors other road users, and the pedestrian detection system which slams on the anchors if a jaywalker jumps out in front of you. Smarter still – and sillier too – is Trailer Assist. This takes over the steering when you’re trying to reverse a trailer into a difficult slot. It’s a hellish manoeuvre, but how many Passat owners will have a caravan/burger van that needs parking? Then there is Traffic Jam Assist, which steers, accelerates and brakes in stop-start traffic, brilliant for cities, or those endless narrow-lane motorway speed restrictions… Autonomous driving is getting closer all the time. Is it boring? You’ll just have to use your imagination more.
BMW R1200RS: motorcycle review by John Westlake
Price from £10,825
Power 123bhp
Top speed 140mph
If there’s one thing aging motorcyclists enjoy more than going round corners, it’s deriding BMWs. “Just look at it,” says my friend Adam, grimacing at the RS’s large frontage, “it looks like a big fat scooter. I’m not sure the French will let you in on that. They have standards.”
We’re outside the Eurotunnel departure building near Folkstone, waiting for the last member of our elite squad of middle-aged berks to turn up, and though I’m tempted to point out that Adam could be likened to a big fat scooter himself, I smile sweetly. The 200 miles I’ve ridden the new BMW R1200RS so far have filled me with confidence. Adam has no idea just how good this sports tourer is.
“You wait until you have a go,” I say. “I hereby bet you’ll change your tune.” Much huffing and puffing follows, with many hilarious jibes about the word pompous being invented to describe BMW riders, especially those who say ‘hereby’. Good grief. I’ve got six more days of this.
On the other side of the channel we hit the peage to fast-forward the dull wastelands of northern France. The five of us are heading to Cahors near Bordeaux on our annual motorcycle tour and we plan to do some serious miles in the morning and then, after a suitably calorific lunch, find some corners.
After an hour of mildly illegal speeds we stop for fuel, the two sportsbike riders among us struggling to get more than 120 miles from a tankful compared to the RS’s 180 mile range. I say nothing, but already the tone is changing. “So, how does the cruise control work?” asks Jim, who noticed me breezing along with both hands ostentatiously tapping out a happy tune on the tank. I show him the switch on the left bar that sets the cruise control and then demonstrate how the screen can be pulled up to a higher level to enable more relaxed motorway percussion. With a rueful glance at the BMW’s sumptuous saddle, he stomps off to his pristine, but horrendously uncomfortable, ZX-636 sportsbike.
The process of education continues throughout the week, with my fascinating explanations of the workings of BMW’s semi-active suspension, riding modes, quick-shifter and electronic spring preload adjustment being the highlights of everyone’s day.
But the BMW’s killer blow is delivered one afternoon as we chase through a forest near Limoges. I’m following Adam on his race-bred Honda SP-2 sportsbike which he’s doted on for years. Being an ex-racer, Adam is irritatingly fast and smooth, carving the Honda down swirling forest roads at such a lick that we leave our comrades behind. But you know what? I’m hardly trying. The twin-cylinder BMW is no more powerful than the aging Honda, but its brakes are fabulously strong, the traction control lets me charge out of corners with no fear of impending hospital food and it steers beautifully, no matter what hamfisted tomfoolery I get up to. I blast past Adam on the next straight and after a few corners he’s left my mirrors.
A week after our return home, the holiday posse receives an email from Adam. He is selling his SP-2 in order to buy a more comfortable, versatile motorcycle. The letters B, M and W are not mentioned, but I won’t be surprised to see them on his bike at the Eurotunnel next year.
Driving to Europe this summer?
A study by TomTom has revealed that almost 12 million Brits are planning on driving abroad this summer and many could find themselves on the wrong side of the road. The Europe-wide study of more than 10,000 drivers found that more than half didn’t know the driving laws of their destinations, for instance that in Scandinavia it is illegal to drive without headlights, even in daylight; Cyprus has a zero-tolerance policy on all drinking at the wheel, including non-alcoholic drinks and eating any food; in some Spanish cities, cars must be parked on different sides of the road according to the day of the week; in Portugal it is illegal to carry bicycles on the back of a car and in Denmark you must do a routine check for sleeping children under your car every time you drive… This video explains all you need to know. Watch it now and save yourself a lot of bother
Email Martin at martin.love@observer.co.uk or follow him on Twitter @MartinLove166
