Ray Leathern goes in search of that carefree, seat of your pants, driving thrill. He finally ends up finding it…, in the most unlikely of places…
Earlier this week I found myself in a big, supercharged, German saloon car; in the picturesque setting of Natures Valley, near Plettenberg Bay. I was soon faced with the option of either continuing to make ‘good time,’ by staying on the smooth N2 highway; a setting rather well suited to the very business-like machine beneath me. Or to turn hard right, towards the tranquil, sinewy, descent that is the refurbished Natures Valley pass. The cool morning, with only a soft hint of winter sunshine beckoning across the treetops; rendered the horizon a glowing tapestry of colours and complex 3D valleys. So what the hell, I thought to myself, this feels like a good time to go for a proper drive.
Soon I was plunging into the vicious descent to sea level that is the pass. Hard onto the brakes into bends; scrubbing off speed and fighting the pull of gravity. Flick down on the paddles, once, twice, three times, to keep the supercharged motors revs right up. Double clutch gearbox booms resonating from behind to keep my concentration focused. Wait for the apex and exit of the bend to identify themselves and mash the throttle once more. Six supercharged cylinders giving their best angry, Linkin Park impression. The new tarmac on the road was smooth, mostly, but every once in a while a dormant layer of stones and gravel would shower up inside the wheel arches. The German car tracked sure and true, through it all, with all-wheel-drive solemnity and total speed.
It was a magnificent drive, enough of a thrill to get anyone reacting in the trouser department. One of those rare moments when all the ingredients (road, car, traffic, weather) come together in perfect driving pleasure.
But of course that’s not true at all is it? I’m talking absolute lies. Because, the brand new, German saloon I was driving wasn’t thrilling or pure or perfect at all. It’s not a beef with this particular one… because neither are any of its other austere, four door brethren. Modern cars are fast, comfortable, hi tech, luxurious and capable, but they’ve all become conduits full of micro chips and computer processors. They’re hell bent on separating the driver from the job of driving.
They all have a braking assistance system, and you can feel it working underneath your foot when you’re leaning down hard on the peddle. It’s doing the work for you. Computer controlled air suspension calculates how much steering angle you’re applying, how much weight is loaded onto each wheel, and it keeps the car belting around a bend, not you. The power assistance on the steering itself, knows how fast you’re going, so it’ll decided how much feedback you might need as you turn the wheel. Traction control and fly-by-wire throttle metre out the engines power when they consider it safe to do so, not when you pin your big toe down.
I was driving a simulator. I was experiencing what an engineer in Munich, Ingolstadt, Frankfurt or Stuttgart approximated the driving experience to be. A very good and accurate approximation, granted. But that is now becoming the challenge in this R500, 000-plus echelon of the market. How unsullied can the engineers approximation be? Some are better than others. But, it’s still like being in a film studio, tirelessly trying to recreate a beautiful sunset, seascape with smoke and mirrors and CGI…; when you could just go outside and try find a real one.
Which brings me to the little Toyota Aygo I had waiting for me at the airport on my return from the Eastern Cape. The long awaited arrival from Toyota that we’ve had in South Africa for some time now in the form of Peugeot and Citroen, 107 and C1 versions respectively. How can a R122, 500 super-mini compare to a barnstorming, banker mobile that costs four times the price, you ask? Before you close this page, hear me out.
It can and it does because while modern cars want to get you somewhere very pleasantly and very quickly, the little Aygo wants to get you somewhere with as much of a smile on your face as your cheeks can muster.
What you can enjoy most of all about the Toyota Aygo (and the C1 and 107 in fairness) is how efficiently and cost effectively all the components have been packaged. There is one windscreen wiper only, but it covers the whole windscreen perfectly. The doors have no paneling so the colour of your car is the colour of the interior…, how cool is that!? There are no fripperies like dual electric window controls or a lock / unlock button on the drivers door. The seats don’t have tens of different adjustable parts, they’re just one piece. Where else can you find a seat so efficiently designed? In a Porsche 911 thank you very much. In a construction of hundreds of considered components, you, the driver, are simply one among them. No more or less important. And that’s how it should be.
The Aygo then gets even better because it just feels so uncluttered and spacious for a tiny car. Its one litre, three cylinder motor makes an admirable fist of its 50kW and 93Nm and sings melodically to the rev limit… which you can’t see because there’s no rev counter. It’s not fast at all, but it can move off from the lights with verve because it’s so small.
While you’re storming along, everything happens because it’s meant to happen, not because it’s been engineered to happen. If you turn into a bend you can hear and feel the outside, front wheel squeal first and then the inside wheel as you accelerate and it scribbles power away. Then the back outside wheel shimmies as the weight loads up and you exit the bend. The steering wheel is small and the feeling, while a little on the light side, talks to you all the time. Its not a Catherham of course, but its good, carefree fun, let me tell you.
It’s economical (Toyota claim 4.7-litres per 100km), very comfortably sprung and stylishly drizzled with its three-in-one, chromed rear taillights and black, privacy hatch at the back. I like almost everything about the Aygo. The gear knob could be made out of less sticky material; I found myself sorely missing steering wheel audio controls, the rear hatch could be less dark (it’s hard to see out of in the dark), it could be a little bit more powerful, and it’s fractionally more expensive than the C1 and 107 equivalents. But, truthfully and subjectively of course, I’d say, that it’s better made than the other two. And I’m assuming most wont mind paying that extra little bit for the Toyota badge.
What took Toyota so long to bring it around, I don’t know? But I’m glad it’s finally arrived.
Model: Toyota Aygo ‘Wild’
Price: R 122, 500
Engine: 1.0-litre, inline 3 cylinder
Tech: 50kW @ 6000rpm and 93Nm @ 3600rpm
Consumption: 4.7-litres per 100km (combined/claimed)
Tank: 36-litres
Warranty: 3yrs / 100, 000km
Student cars rule the world!