The Vehicles Earth

In a bit of a flap
I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m just about the only member of the CAR team who thought it was a good idea to mate the Alhambra’s 138bhp 2.0-litre diesel block with flappy VW Group paddles. In fact, I may have been the only one in the world with that opinion. My reasoning was that a lad’s gotta get his kicks somewhere – even if it’s in a family-sized MPV the size of hippo (although, as Tim Pollard mooted, it handles far more nimbly than that – like a baby warthog, perhaps)

Truth is I do use the paddle shifts, especially when powering out into roundabouts along the Bedfordshire stretch of the A1, trying to ensure I don’t get stuck behind Norbert Dentressangle or any of his articulated kin. But I’m also man enough to admit that I may have been wrong in opting for them – but not because I think they aren’t much cop. No, it’s because those kicks I was seeking have manifested themselves all over this deliriously practical car (so, I’m getting old already!)

The little things that currently put a smile on my face:

• As I’ve only had the car since the clocks went back, it’s taken until now to fully appreciate the full-length sunroof in the evening. It will be coming into its own now that the sap is rising and the days are getting longer
• Leg room in front of the second row of seats – not for the benefit of my passengers, but because I can sling briefcases, the shopping and 144-pack boxes of Pampers into the gap rather than having them roll around the boot
• Steering wheel intuitiveness – I’m an obsessive twiddler of the switches and dials, toggling between DAB radio, iPod, trip meter, fuel remaining and recipe suggestions*. The Alhambra has the best of any car I’ve driven. Better than BMW, better than Mercedes.

While I’m here, I’ve got my own solution to Greg Fountain’s mild irritation with the pace of the electric sliding passenger doors. I use the keyfob to close them, thus resisting the temptation to start yanking on an expensive bit of technology. That I can do it while standing on the doorstep, waving my keys at the Alhambra like Mr H Potter with his wand, is still some kinda alchemy to me.

*Alright, it’s not that intuitive. Yet.

Stephen Worthy


I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m just about the only member of the CAR team who thought it was a good idea to mate the Alhambra’s 138bhp 2.0-litre diesel block with flappy VW Group paddles. In fact, I may have been the only one in the world with that opinion. My reasoning was that a lad’s gotta get his kicks somewhere – even if it’s in a family-sized MPV the size of hippo (although, as Tim Pollard mooted, it handles far more nimbly than that – like a baby warthog, perhaps)

Truth is I do use the paddle shifts, especially when powering out into roundabouts along the Bedfordshire stretch of the A1, trying to ensure I don’t get stuck behind Norbert Dentressangle or any of his articulated kin. But I’m also man enough to admit that I may have been wrong in opting for them – but not because I think they aren’t much cop. No, it’s because those kicks I was seeking have manifested themselves all over this deliriously practical car (so, I’m getting old already!)

The little things that currently put a smile on my face:

• As I’ve only had the car since the clocks went back, it’s taken until now to fully appreciate the full-length sunroof in the evening. It will be coming into its own now that the sap is rising and the days are getting longer
• Leg room in front of the second row of seats – not for the benefit of my passengers, but because I can sling briefcases, the shopping and 144-pack boxes of Pampers into the gap rather than having them roll around the boot
• Steering wheel intuitiveness – I’m an obsessive twiddler of the switches and dials, toggling between DAB radio, iPod, trip meter, fuel remaining and recipe suggestions*. The Alhambra has the best of any car I’ve driven. Better than BMW, better than Mercedes.

While I’m here, I’ve got my own solution to Greg Fountain’s mild irritation with the pace of the electric sliding passenger doors. I use the keyfob to close them, thus resisting the temptation to start yanking on an expensive bit of technology. That I can do it while standing on the doorstep, waving my keys at the Alhambra like Mr H Potter with his wand, is still some kinda alchemy to me.

*Alright, it’s not that intuitive. Yet.

Stephen Worthy