New Zealand Engineering 1999 September

Toys

Audi TT Coupe
Volvo S80 T6

Audi TT Coupe
It was endearingly appropriate that I should record a time of 5.00 seconds when accelerating the Audi TT coupe from 80 to 120 kmh in the third of its five gears. A hundredth of a second more (or less) would have blemished the front-wheel drive TT because it is so precise in its posture and its purpose. (At my second attempt, incidentally, I recorded 4.90 seconds).

The $77,900 TT offers 21st century style, not 90s fashion, and it’s as properly accoutred inside as out, with stainless steel and aluminium the materials, and rings as its keynote shape.

Rings dominate the cabin’s decor, almost too much, yet there are subtleties here too: the window switches are discreetly hidden behind the door pulls, the fuel flap release, plus other minor controls, lies beneath a sliding cover, forward of the gearstick.

Both the Bose music box and the five valve per cylinder, 1.8 turbo, 132 kW motor are veiled by panels but whereas the former yields to the pressure of a manicured fingernail, the latter requires an artisan.

With so much TT that is agreeable (I didn’t hear anyone say it’s beautiful, but nobody ignored it either) those aspects that do not nudge perfection are conspicuous. The speedometer is too fussy with numerals of varying size (odds are larger than evens) and the motor’s acoustics, I reckon, are too restrained for such a sporting beast.

Audi claims 7.5 seconds are required to attain 100 kmh in the TT, which may require one delving deeper into the red zone (beyond 6500 rpm) than I ventured. Maximum velocity takeoffs in the TT require some care; drop the clutch with only a few revs and you’ll stall. Add plenty of revs to avoid that embarrassment and the front wheels hop and skip before bolting towards the horizon.

However, I achieved a 100 kmh to 0 time of 2.81 seconds, albeit wasting many micro-seconds before my brain realised that momentum had ceased. (Audi makes no claims for the TT’s deceleration.)

For all its scintillating style the TT’s drag coefficient is a cabbagelike 0.34, and, with a personal chest diameter of about 84 cm, I found myself unable to derive much lateral stability from the driver’s seat, no doubt wider bodies would fare better.

TT paint schemes are coldly conservative for such an extraordinary shape but, hey, this is a German car. Overall, I was most impressed with the TT’s behaviour and its style. It charmed my head, but it didn’t melt my heart.

Volvo S80 T6
Volvo’s passage from eccentric idiosyncrasy towards orthodoxy has produced cars with model names that only a computer will adore, styling that is, er, stylish and more airbags than most people have fingers and toes.

The $108,900 Volvo S80 T6 sedan, for example, has more than 20 airbags as well as 18 computers, eight interior lights (including red puddle lights on all four doors and dual spot lamps fore and aft) and, hurrah, refuelling points on both sides.

As well, there’s 200 kW and 380 Nm to play with, plus a trip computer that is notably easy to operate and told me that I had averaged 8.5km/litre from the car’s 80 litre fuel tank.

With its inline six-cylinder, twin turbo motor mounted transversely, not a common layout in the luxury car market, the S80 T6 is impressive under showroom lights.

Electrically operated front seats, strips of glossy wood, smooth cowhide upholstery and climate control are only to be expected at this price whereas head restraints which incorporate speakers are uncommon.

Without releasing hold of the steering wheel you can operate the music box, the cruise control and the built-in telephone (and all that’s standard).

Options include a wood/leather steering wheel, larger wheels and a sunroof. Amidst so much opulence you may not notice the absence of headlamp washers but, hey, you get efficient sounding acronyms (STC and DSTC) to assist traction and stability respectively. And, sure enough, the big Michelin Pilot tyres (on singularly attractive alloy wheels) grip as securely as you’d expect of a modern Volvo.

Boot space is enormous (and includes restraints to minimise cargo misadventures) and at the other extreme there are discreet pouches on the centre edge of the front seats for the secure carriage of, um, smaller items.

The transmission provides a choice of conventional four-speed auto or the now increasingly popular plus and minus system of clutchless manual shifting. It works. Okay, it works smoothly and efficiently - good enough to be acceptable at this level of expenditure but not as impressive as the brakes which are excellent.

Acceleration is vigorous indeed while in first gear, but slackens noticeably in second, although this is a beast capable of 250 kmh (and smooth, safe, soothing travel over straight bits and wobbly bits alike).

A luxurious carriage indeed, with lots of laudable safety features. Only it may rate higher with passengers than with drivers.

Nick Lee-Frampton is a Wellington motoring journalist