There is a time, when things are starting to look differently. Things around you are starting to look different than before but also the person in the mirror is starting to be a different one. That time goes in sync with bold head or white hair, whichever comes first. That time is the time when your inner kid wants out, so you want fun. Fun shopping. Shopping for toys. Toys for boys. Powerful toys.
Some are calling it middle age crisis. I'm calling it "bank account crisis" as the account goes empty much faster than you can fill it up. That is the time to have fun. A lot of fun. That was the time when I met AMG. Mercedes A45 AMG to be more precise.
360HP of love at the first sight. The B220 that I own, have no special shape, is just a car more or less, not that different than any other car on the road, not really that much a Mercedes classical shape but the A45, even that is somehow a smaller version of the B-class it is just nice. Very nice. Numbers are just mind blowing for a 2 liter engine. It is in the entry level from Ferrari. Then you step in. Huh, very Mercedes inside plus the typical AMG red stripes touch. Then you start the engine. Then you breath in, then breath out, then off you go.
Engine noise: chorus. Exhaust pipe backfire on downshift: bells in ears. Handling: just right. Does it goes fast? Launch control is bringing you some unexpected pain in your body in the first few meters from start. Holly shit is fast. Not only in the straight lines, but also around corners and roundabouts. The grip is colossal. Chairs very supportive otherwise you would have been ejected long time ago, already in the first corner. Then it stops. It stops so well that your face hurts.
Pulse goes to normal, adrenaline evaporates, now your head is starting to think again.
It claims to have a better gear box, tuned to perfection, split second gear change. Faster than the "normal" dual clutch versions from rest of the range. Well, I tried hard to feel that. I tried hard to feel the difference but failed. I mean
I failed to feel any difference between the A45 gear box change and the B220 gear box change. Zero. Might be something to be felt by computers only. Maybe experts would make a difference. Maybe around a track you can get 0.5s faster lap. Might be that I'm just an insensible guy. Yes, the change is accompanied by a great orchestra (engine and exhaust pipe) but still if you remove the noise, there is nothing extra. Kind of strange. Might be just too big expectations? Could be so.
Then the inside. So Mercedes. I mean apart from the red stripes and smaller space, there is nothing special inside. Nothing from another planet. Very Mercedes. Far too Mercedes. Very luxurious. Not sure exactly what I was expecting inside, but at least some bits and pieces of madness would have created the right mood for such a mad car. Some non Mercedes kind of things. Some buttons that require 11 fingers to press in a right sequence. Some big, red launch button covered with a plastic transparent cover. Like in the fighter jets. Some unpolished aluminium pieces in the front console. Some screws popping out around the handbreak. Something. Anything. Wasn't there.
The car is great. No doubt one of the greatest hatchback that money can buy. Getting one? Sure, but one hour later, came a moment when I met Ford. Ford Focus RS to be more precise and the definition of absolute pleasure was instantly rewritten.