Vauxhall Combo van - review

I’ll be honest, I got into this gig of reviewing cars with the rather innocent expectation of writing a few reviews about hatchbacks, and then by week four or five I’ll be a rocking and a rolling with the Bentley Continental GT, the Lamborghini Gallardo, the Aston Martin DB9, who knows? Well I do. And needless to say it hasn’t quite panned out like that. No, this is the real world we live in I’ve now realised, and as a salute to this new found awareness I’ve decided to review a vehicle as practical and unassuming as they come; a  true workhorse; a relentless symbol of automotive determination and tenacity. Ladies and gentlemen I give you the Vauxhall Combo van! I’ll take a brief moment to let you calm down, mop your brows and dry those eyes. I know how you feel.

Seriously though, a van is a serious thing. So let’s treat it as such. Being essentially commercial and functional in design this smaller type of van is predominantly bought by small businesses and the self employed. This means it has to provide all the utilities and practicalities of a much larger van while still being attractive and affordable to your average chap, providing a versatile and practical platform and yet manoeuvrability and visibility that is comparable to say only a large estate or people carrier. This combination of elements will always be a challenge for a manufacturer. It’s like telling a chef to make a chocolate pudding which has the same calorie content as a stick of celery. It’s theoretically possible but the end result might not be very appetising. I guess it boils down to creating a relatable image. If a manufacturer can build a vehicle that you could actually see yourself driving, even just to test it then they’re half way there already. In this case the Combo is derived from the Vauxhall Corsa platform, the front of the van up to the A-pillar being straight off the little hatchback. I say Vauxhall; to the rest of Europe outside the UK it’s Opel we’re discussing. And for any Australians reading this it’s Holden.

Now as we know the Corsa is a small hatchback, available in either three or five door configurations, known for its smart looks and agile nature. So what happens when you bolt a shed on to the back of it? In this case quite a lot really. For a start it is considerably taller than the little car, by thirty six centimetres no less. It is also longer by over half a metre. Oh and it is four centimetres wider (every little helps I suppose). Now at this stage please note that this Combo is of 2003 on a 03 plate. As a result it is of course related to the Corsa of that era. Since 2006 the Corsa went all angular and modern, and as of 2011 the Combo has gone all bloated and odd looking, now based on the Fiat Doblò. These things we dare not speak of.

Now looks, I mentioned that a van has to be practical and functional and it does, but this doesn’t mean it has to be ugly. The combo does well here. That Corsa front end is smooth and rather flush is design. This leads to the bulk of the vehicle without any odd bumps or raised areas that vans of this type can sometimes have. Side panels are subtle and functional in appearance and door handles and other similar trim are a serviceable black plastic which one would expect. On the inside it’s a similar story really. It certainly isn’t dynamic and luxurious, but it is quite smart. The cabin is airy and light with buttons and switches that are reasonably chunky and easy to use. On the whole it’s quite attractive, with curved lines here and there such as the panel around the central air vents. This breaks things up giving a more comfortable feel. The instrument binnacle is very down to earth. Two big analogue dials and two smaller dials, all in a variety of greys. Come to think of it the whole interior is very much a celebration of the colour grey. There are so many shades of which it does make one realise why woodlice always seem so pleased with themselves. I say this light-heartedly of course but another colour would be nice, say a black for the steering wheel and gear stick. Maybe silver on the dash board. Colour on the seats would be appreciated too, as, you guessed it, they’re grey.

The whole interior is certainly practical; lots of little cubby holes and storage areas including a very good one above the driver and passenger, a sort of in built attic that the added height has no doubt created. But it can feel a little bare and what with all the grey plastics almost a tad austere. It doesn’t need to have a full chaise Lange and plasma TV cinema system by any means, after all this is a van, the purpose of which we have discussed. There can be however, subtle touches and design motifs that can embellish interior design, adding a sense of comfort without having to install expensive technology. The Combo sadly seems to lack these.

When it comes to driving the Combo we’re in very similar territory. It feels functional. Steering is calm and somewhat responsive but there is noticeable give in the wheel. Meaning you can turn it slightly without the front wheels realising what you’ve done. Presumably so that it isn’t tiring over long distances constantly having to make tiny corrections. The suspension is comfortable to a degree but the rear comes across as a tad bouncy. You’ll notice when driving over speed humps. Again functionality being the helmsman; with the back loaded up the rear springs will be compressed and as a result the back end will become more responsive and stable. That’s the plan anyway (apologies if this is getting a bit technical but I’ve not reviewed a van before and I didn’t really know what to write).

Finally we get to the engine. I’d have thought that for a van driver the engine is quite important really. You’d want something powerful to shift all the stuff you’re going to load it with, but you’d want fuel efficiency, after all this is a business vehicle we’re talking about. Who would buy a van with a twin turbo V8? Microsoft wouldn’t have made any money if Bill Gates had done that. No, you want to be careful. The Combo does have a good range of engines to choose from, Including 1.4 and 1.6 petrol engines and a 1.3 diesel as well. In this case it’s a 1.7 DTI, the big one, well excluding the 1.7 CDTI. That’s the really big one. It’s a tad more powerful but the good old DTI suits the van well. The grunt is good enough that it can cope with a full load. I’d imagine that the 1.4 or 1.3 might feel a little underpowered if it’s very full. As with diesels the low down torque or oomph as I refer to it is good. It’s a good engine for long distance cruising really. In the sense that it’s large enough to be comfortable with the vans weight, the oomph low down in the gears means you don’t have to change gear that often but it still has good fuel efficiency, compared to the petrol incarnation at least.

Now on the whole I think I’m going to have to revert to what I originally said. This vehicle is based on practicality, functionality and affordability. All other aspects are by definition secondary. As a result I will have to come to a conclusion that is befitting, and to that degree the Combo 1.7 DTI is very good. Every practical and logical measure of a van it meets with distinction. So why am I unsure? I guess it’s because I’m just not used to reviewing vans. I review cars, as part of which I review the experience of driving and using a car. That’s probably why I tend to use words such as nice, like, enjoy, fun. These are all emotional in origin, and that is why I’m a bit stuck with the combo; I’m thinking of it how I think of cars. I’m analysing it with the same brain. I don’t suppose it matters to a business owner if the bit around the air vent looks quite nice. But if I was to buy, own, maintain and experience the Combo it would matter to me.

That being the case I will have to conclude by saying that the Combo does everything it sets out to do but nothing more. Everything is competent but there’s no surprise, no wow factor, no zing. It is therefore up to you to decide whether that matters in a van. If it does matter then take a test drive and see what you think. If it doesn’t matter then I can safely say that the Vauxhall Combo 1.7 DTI is the van for you. 

Seat Ebiza - Review

Now, I’ll be the first to say that I have absolutely nothing against the Spanish. I think they’re a very polite, intelligent, fun, proud people. It’s a great country; it’s big, sunny and very pretty in places, and the food’s lovely. So I have no idea where my disliking to Seats came from. It wasn’t even based on previous experience as I had had no interaction with Seats until now. Maybe disliking is too strong. Distrust might be more accurate. I just had no need to go near them. I imagine that if you grow up with none of your friends or family purchasing or even mentioning a certain product then you’ll naturally develop a lack of interest in it. Though having said that no-one I know owns a Phillips Laser-Disc player and I quite like them, so who knows?

                                                                                  

After careful thought, I’ve come to the conclusion that it must have come from a rather old-fashioned stigma that used to follow Seats about; a sort of unsaid acknowledgement that Seat meant Spanish Skoda. It did. Now though, all has changed. Both Seat and Skoda are under the parental protection of the Volkswagen Group. An automotive powerhouse so large and influential that I recently heard they’re planning on moving the moon three inches further from the Earth. I like VW. And my mother has a new Skoda which is probably the best car she’s ever owned and that’s saying something.

Open-minded then. I would approach this review professionally, calmly and with reasonably high expectations. And the first thing that comes to mind: It’s nice. Some small hatchbacks can be a little generic, they sort of blend into the background. The Ibiza however manages to blend modern compact, functional design with a teeny bit of flair (I should point out this is the new one we’re discussing, on a 2009 plate. Let’s be honest the older reincarnations were a tad dull). I like the smoothness of the body. Some small cars have so many bumps and bulges on them you think they’ve got a disease and the headlight fittings are sharp and follow the curve of the nose towards the front grille giving a sort of purposeful demeanour. The grille itself has that odd U shape to it that Seat tend to use. I’m not really a fan to be honest; it makes the car look as though it’s got an unfashionable moustache. Though it’s not as bad as some of their efforts.

Inside is a similar story; smart, modern, functional and other positive adjectives. It’s airy and spacious. There’s good use of that chrome coloured plastic on the steering wheel and the instrument panel, which being completely symmetrical makes you think you’re in a race car, or a plane. The speedometer and rev counter are side by side, both surrounded by protruding cylindrical trim, with an LED screen separating them. So it makes it look as though all the readouts are guarded against anyone else’s view. I like that. It’s a tad blokey, but it does look very attractive as dashboards go. Also I wouldn’t usually mention it but the stereo is pretty good. It’s one of those ultra modern, gloss black affairs with one knob and no words written on it, just a mass of hieroglyphics. The whole cabin really is like the outside; somewhat plain, yet has some very good looking qualities. The only very negative things I’d say are 1- some of the materials are a bit, erm, not premium and 2- although the driving position was alright for me there wasn’t much in the way of variation; the seat didn’t slide about much and the steering wheels height adjustment comprised of about half an inch either way.

I said the cabin is airy and spacious, and sitting in the drivers seat it is, that is until you look round and see the back. There is leg room back there, but if you’re over six foot you probably wouldn’t want to do long distances. Though this is a small compact hatch-back, so what do you expect?

Driving wise I must admit it’s quite fun. It feels reasonably smooth on winding B roads but you can feel the road. It also leans into corners a little, not much but a little, enough to let you know that any faster round this bend and you’ll make a prat out of yourself. Now that’s a good thing. It makes you aware that you are nearing the limit of the cars road holding ability which to be honest probably isn’t very much. Being such a small car though it’s all you need. And talking of all you need we get to the engine. Now the one I was in had the 1.2 Litre petrol; A reasonably potent little thing if not a bit noisy. It had a rather mechanical thud thud thud sound to it which was fun but over a long distance I can see that wearing. It reminded me of a hamster. It sits there pottering about not doing particularly much and then when you’re all relaxed, settling down for the evening it jumps on it’s wheel and all Hell breaks loose. There is a good range of engines available here so do shop around. I do fear though that with a diesel this car might be a bit dull. Though having said that I was once in a Vauxhall Corsa three door with a 1.5 litre diesel and that felt like a tank: exciting if not a tad unnerving.

On the whole it’s a good little car. Enough excitement and variety to keep you entertained but at the same time it knows perfectly well that it’s not a Ferrari. My only concern is that it’s looks, interior, feel, engine etc might not age particularly well, so maybe not one to keep going through the ages. For the moment though, have fun.

Saluting an icon - Ramblings

In the late Sixties a group of Italian engineers did something which was to affect the automotive industry irreversibly. After hours, in their own time, they decided to design, engineer and build a car which had the engine behind the driver, but still in front of the rear axel. The result was the worlds first mid-engined production road car; the Lamborghini Miura.

Today almost all performance cars or supercars are mid-engined and it’s hard to imagine a time when it wasn’t the done thing. But then, it was new. Very new. It had been done for race cars true, but no-one had thought of doing it to a road car. No other car looked like it. ‘Oh’ you may say. ‘If they hadn’t done it Ferrari would have anyway. And within two years there were other mid-engined cars about. Why is the Miura so special?’

Well that’s a fair point. You’re quite right, around the same time Ferrari were developing mid-engined cars. But I think that the Miura is special for three good reasons. Firstly, it was the first. If Ferrari were the first to do it then I suppose we’d salute them, but they weren’t, so we don’t. Secondly, if Ferrari, or Mercedes, or Jaguar for instance had done it first then that would be brilliant, but they were big names already. They had started off very early in the twentieth century. They had pedigree and experience but before the Miura Lamborghini didn’t properly exist. That car came out of nowhere. You’ve got to admit, that’s kinda cool.

Thirdly, you need to analyse the Miura. I know it’s a bit nerdy and boring but place yourself in 1967. In Britain saloons were legion. Ford, Vauxhall and British Leyland were practically all you saw. The odd French and German saloon and maybe a Datsun 1000. And suddenly you see a Miura. It’s only 105 cm tall, that’s just over 40 inches. It’s a got a four litre twelve cylinder engine which sits just behind the two seats, and the doors flick up at the back so when the doors are both open the front profile of the car is of a bulls head with horns. That’s cool today. Then it was revolutionary. It combined, power, passion and eccentricity in a way that hadn’t been seen before.

Today it’s not uncommon to see a powerful, dramatically styled car that stands out. They’re a part of our society and culture. The Miura started something that someone else may well have started otherwise but it started it with an enormous amount of flare, passion, charisma and confidence and as such to this day stands out as a definitive supercar. The Lamborghini Miura, I salute you.

My car - Ramblings

The ignition key rotates in its slot putting pressure on a spring mechanism, in turn triggering an electronic signal to fire down a set of wiring to a small electronic motor. This motor or ‘starter motor’ is connected to a set of pistons, spark plugs and fuel injectors, causing the fuel injectors to inject, the spark plugs to spark and the pistons (due to the aforementioned sparks igniting the fuel that has just been injected) to pump . These pistons are directly connected to a single crankshaft, which has as a counterweight a flywheel at one end.

This chain reaction is the beginning of something magical, something astonishing, a cacophony of noise and vibration which powers and motivates our world. That small metal key depressing that spring starts our day, takes us to work, allows us to earn our living, takes us home, takes us to the store so that we can spend our earnings on our upkeep.

Though, thinking about it, that small key depressing that spring is a status symbol. It’s desirable. It’s good looking and has a spoiler. It has sporting pretentions, no, it is sporty. It has double wish-bone suspension and heated seats. It has a premium badge and cost me significantly more than a similar model from another company which means it is rare and exclusive.

It has adaptive cruise control that continually monitors your speed and revs. It has two overhead camshafts and butterfly valves in the exhaust outlets. It has low profile tyres. And, to be honest, I have no idea what any of that means. The salesman said it when I was in the showroom along with adjectives like refined, dynamic, efficient, phosphorescent. That last one was to do with the headlights I think.

I’ve now owned it for four months. I’ve got used to it; the electronic buzz of the driver’s seat automatically assuming your driving position; the way the proximity alarm resonates throughout when you’re parking; the metallic crack/thunk of the central locking. Usually it just has a gentle surge of acceleration, as all six cylinders vibrate joyously, the pistons within rampantly dancing on cue to my right foot on the pedal. A whim, an impulse, a sudden urge to depress the pedal completely is all it takes and the gentle surge becomes an avalanche of acceleration, the pistons’ dance turns into an orgy of movement and noise. Onlookers tend to raise their eyebrows. Either in awe or annoyance, I’m not quite sure which though I’ll imagine the former. It’s not perfect. I don’t understand half the things on it. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Best Supercar? - Ramblings

That’s a tough one isn’t it? I was brainstorming one evening and trying to think of interesting topics for the blog. I happened to write down the word supercar and then the word best and looking at the two words together made me think. How does one list the best supercars? Randomly? In alphabetical order? Chronologically? In order of personal preference? If the latter, then whose personal preference? And who is composing the list for that matter? The writer presumably, but if that’s the case it’s bound to be incorrect to readers, the word best being so subjective. Also, a slight thought; how does one define best, because best doesn’t necessarily mean fastest.

A list of the fastest supercars would be easy. Just Google fastest cars and then copy and paste your findings. The word best though. Best could mean anything. It could mean best built, best looking, best sounding, or it could be an amalgamation of all that. Also some of the most memorable and likable cars in the world are technically rubbish, but yet you still like them, if not love them.

I appreciate that best probably isn’t the best word to use (see what I did there?), but it’s a good word because it is so personal. You could say Great. That’s also very subjective and personal but it is more of a technical adjective. If you were to announce the greatest car in the world, it would have overtones of achieving more than was expected, being technically greater than predecessors or contemporaries. The best car though, doesn’t quite have so much gravity. It’s still analysing peak achievements and accomplishments but is derived from a more innocent origin, as if from urges and personal tastes rather then knowledge based opinions.

I will certainly have a think about this one, but it is tricky, because my best isn’t necessarily anyone else’s best. In my opinion the best ocean is the pacific. That’s my opinion, please feel free to disagree.

Apology and stuff

I apologise for the rather elongated hiatus since early January. I’ve had a lot on, as indeed we all have I suppose. I won’t go into detail but life is a little more static at the moment so I will indeed try to be more productive towards this automotive Blog.

For a start, my initial intentions of writing a weekly car review have sort of withered and fallen over but I am still intending to. If anyone has any requests for reviews then please email them to me (address on right border) and I will certainly do my best. However please note that my usual fare is second-hand bargains and hatchbacks. I like to think of myself as ‘The Peoples Reviewer’ if that’s not sounding too grandiose. How about The second-hand peoples reviewer? Though that could be misinterpreted. Please don’t think I’m reviewing second-hand people. I think that might be illegal. My point is please don’t request a review on the Aston Martin DBS or a Ferrari. While I hope to be reviewing that sort of thing at some stage in my career, I don’t think they’re on the cards just yet.

I hope you’ve read what this blog already has and I hope that you continue to read as it develops. Many thanks, Jolee

Dream Garage - Essay

Everyone would have their own dream garage if they could I’d imagine. You know; a collection of 10 or so cars that to them are just the bee’s knees. They wouldn’t have to be perfect cars, they could be terrible, but to that person, the dream collection.

I’ve been thinking a bit about my hypothetical dream garage today. I’ve tried to put as much rational and practical thought into it as possible, rather than just be silly and choose 10 or so supercars. I’ve tried to think a lot about what cars mean to me and what I value in them. What gets me interested in a car and so forth. It might sound a little over the top and frivolous, but when you do analyse your own perceptions of something you care a great deal for, you can’t help but get a little swept up in it.

In my case for instance a great car, or ‘dream’ car has to have a few foundation stones. These might vary in quantity or frequency from car to car but they do have to be there.

First is innovation; the car is essentially a metal box that is propelled along by a series of small explosions, designed originally for practicality and convenience. However, we’ve used it so much over the years that a LOT of thought has gone into how to improve it. So much so in fact that throughout its history and development as a piece of technology it has exhibited such innovation, imagination and forward thinking that while being the same basic recipe as it was a hundred years ago, its efficiency, reliability and practicality bear no resemblance to itself as it originally was. It is real innovation and good ideas that have helped it along. A great car to me should reflect this. It should be clever and most of all it shouldn’t be afraid to bend the rules or be different.

Second is character. Cars are surprisingly anthropomorphic. Lots of people name their cars or at the least establish whether it’s a he or a she. We like to give them characters. Probably because they’re part of our lives usually from the word go. But I think it’s also because they’re very complex and more to the point noticeably complex. Even if you don’t understand in any way how a car works you know there’s a lot of ‘stuff’ involved. From the noise it makes to the levers and pedals you have to operate in order to drive one. It’s a very physical thing; you can feel the vibration of the engine. You can feel the friction of metal on metal when you change gear. You can sense when a car is struggling with a given terrain and you naturally will it onward, primarily because you’re in it, but also because you can sense all these complex, meticulous things like vibrations and noises and their endless combinations giving you certain impressions and eventually characters. Human beings have very complex characters, so naturally we’re used to automatically empathising with other complex characters. But who says these characters have to be human. We empathise with other animals very easily and it’s not the first time that a tonne and a bit of metal with hundreds of moving parts has been called an ‘animal’ in its own right. They also sound like animals some of the time. Cars can purr, they can growl, they can bark, they can roar, shriek, whine, grumble, croak and hiss. No-wonder we read a bit of sentience into them occasionally. They can also have very varied characters. Some sports cars are like excitable puppies with quick revving high-pitched engines, agile handling and a slight lack of discipline. Some old off roaders are like a shire horse; big, strong, not in a hurry but with a gutsy-engine. Some powerful executive saloons are like an eagle or a falcon; strong, precise, serene, very calm and collected when cruising but with an embedded ability to dive at full power if required. Whatever the character, a great car should have one and an endearing one at that.

Third is build quality. A bit self explanatory this one. Needless, to say a great car doesn’t necessarily need to be working, but it certainly helps.

Forth is a little more individual; it’s a WOW factor, a sort of X factor that can appear in several guises. It’s a sense that this car is special, a sense that this car steps above the rest, it might even be for a very mundane reason. But if it matters to you, then it matters.

Here then is my DREAM GARAGE. It’s the cars that stand out to me for the above reasons. It’s the cars that I like and the cars about which I actually do think: I would love to own of those at some point. Some are down to earth, some are a bit fanciful, some are just fun, but hey, the word dream isn’t used for no reason.

1. - Aston Martin Vantage (1993 model)

2. - Bugatti EB110S

3. - Bugatti Veyron

4. - Ferrari 612 Scaglietti

5. - Honda Accord 2.0 (2009 model)

6. - Lotus Exige S

7. - Nissan GTR

8. - Nissan R390 GT1

9. - Skoda Octavia VRS

10. - Volkswagen Phaeton W12