It is kind of personal to talk about a car I have spent days and nights in. But even so, you will be surprised about the kind of connection we've made.
The Audi, as I call the car in my most creative times, drives fantastically comfortable and doesn't make a fuss about anything. For a long journey you have everything you need or even more. Cup holder, climate control, heated seats. We even fitted an aux cable into the console to have the mp3 player attached to the video channel of the sat nav screen. It has louvered blinds that I have never ever used and because it's an estate, I was never in need to transport anything that couldn't fit into my car.
It's not a big estate. I don't have big things to transport. We get along.
It's not a particularly fast car and too lumpy to go round corners in an especially entertaining way. But the 1.9 l diesel (PD) engine does a very diligent job and the continuously variable transmission from Audi's Multitronic gear box gives you the feeling of driving an electric bumper car at the funfair. If you operate the acceleration pedal, you go faster, without anything else happening. The rev counter only moves, if you kick it down.
Everything feels well-built and works as it should, but seemingly not to give you joy, but just to be not missing. It doesn't appear to me that the steering wheel or that button on the indicator or the switch to turn on the lights is especially mine because it's fitted to my car. It feels remote and impersonal. We spent hours together and it never let me down in an noteworthy way. But despite that, we never became good friends. I learned to like it and to predict it. And that's why I'm able to enjoy the ride.
Soul? After years together, I haven't yet found any.
Does this steering wheel really belong to me? It doesn't feel like that. It also doesn't feel like nicked, though.
Don't get me wrong. It is an extraordinary good car in a very rational way. But in an emotional way, it just isn't.
Let's put it this way; the Audi is like a very polite geography teacher, who has a not quite visible sense of humour but isn't an uncomfortable company at all. You even learn something once in a while - rarely something exciting. And at the end of the day you go away, without turning your head again.