Audi A7: Handsome and clever
A car that will eat you alive and pose unexpected challenges for the likes of Bernie Ecclestone
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Your support makes all the difference.For those of us of a certain age, or a certain nerdy disposition, the new, second-generation Audi A7 is the car that the Rover SD1 might have been. Way back in 1976 the British motor industry managed to come up with a world-beating innovative design – a large executive saloon, but with a five-door hatch rather than the usual four doors plus boot, and with styling hints of coupe about it. The Rover engineers had cheekily taken inspiration from the lines of the contemporary Ferrari Daytona to add distinction and glamour to their new Rover 3500. The company and the government sunk millions into this, the European Car of the Year, but it was built badly in the intervals when the guys weren’t on strike.
Shortly after the Rover’s debut, Audi grafted a hatch rear onto their 100 saloon, and called it the “Audi Avant”, which didn’t look half as good as the Rover but at least the paint stuck to the metal. In due course it was replaced by an estate.
Audi have returned to the theme now, and with dramatic effect. For there is much to admire on this exec saloon. Like its closest rival, the Mercedes-Benz CLS, it has the fashionable four-door coupe look but with that added almost horizontal rear hatch. I spent an embarrassing amount of time looking for the rear-wash wipe on the controls until realising that there wasn’t one, because the back is angled such that it is unnecessary, if not impractical. Silly me. It didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the sure-footed quattro four-wheel drive handling, though.
It is bold elsewhere, too. The rear brake light stretches right across the boot lid, and the indicators do a little strobe show. The wheel arches bite high into the bodywork, and it is built for truly awesome wheels – 21 inches with correspondingly thin low-profile tyres being the least comfortable option. The low, predatory stance makes the A7 look like a basking shark. Indeed, the car has such presence that it looks rather bigger than it is, which is substantial enough anyway. The elongated tail and pronounced snout make you pay for your sense of style when the moment arrives to stop posing in it and park it. Tricky, even with a reversing camera.
Which brings me to the kit. There’s plenty of it, from the four-zone climate control system to the Bang & Olufsen entertainment system. My favourite feature on the test car was the scribble pad for the satnav. Instead of typing in an address or post code, you can instead use your finger to handwrite each letter, predictive text doing the rest. It’s not that big an advance, and voice recognition is more sensible, though unreliable. But it was like having an Etch A Sketch to play with again. Boy’s toys, they used to call this sort of stuff; person’s toys maybe these days.
As per usual in modern exec cars, two giant screens dominate the dashboard and you benefit from the usual driving aids, such as lane assist, adaptive cruise control and an automatic dip function for the headlights – all work efficiently. The buttons around the screens for, say, the heated seats were neither touch sensitive nor of a traditional type, so I found them too fiddly to use, especially on the move. That does need fixing.
Now, without wanting to sound too spoilt, I missed the heads-up display and heated steering wheel I’d have thought they’d throw in at these prices – and the A7 does look as though you should be sat in the very lap of luxury. “These prices” being, in the case of my example, some £65,550, all in.
The spec
Audi A7 Sportback 50 TDI
Price: £56,995 (£65,550 as tested)
Engine capacity: 3.0-litre diesel; V6-cylinder; 8-speed auto
Power output (PS): 286 @ 3,500-4,000 rpm
Top speed (mph): 155
0-60mph (seconds): 5.7
Fuel economy (mpg): 50.4
CO2 emissions (g/km): 147
While I’m at it, I have a few more complaints. The dual clutch DSG gearbox, as with other VW Group products it’s fitted to, doesn’t always second guess the next gear you’ll be in, and as a result the response can be a little tardy, and made all the more frustrating if your diesel model is in “efficient” mode (ie economy). More seriously, the automatic lever is on the right of the centre console, which makes it too easy for a resting knee to nudge it into optional manual mode. This, I freely admit, may be confined to those with a modest inside leg measurement, but if you’re short and rich, this will affect your quality of life in a new, unexpected arena. Overall, I think Mercedes-Benz do it better.
Second, the Audi tried to eat me. I’d pressed the remote control to open the boot and as I was dozily depositing a few bags of of shopping, I vaguely heard it bleeping. Of course cars bleep for no good reason these days, but then the huge rear tailgate closed down on me like Moby Dick. It stopped when it sensed my presence, but just at that moment I feared becoming human prey. I’ve heard of autonomous cars, but this is ridiculous.
As for economy, well, once you get over the high list price or monthly leasing fee, you’ll find your fuel bills aren’t too shocking, given the performance and bulk of the car. On the back there is a badge that reads “50” which makes you assume it has a five-litre engine, but is in fact a slightly meaningless piece of Audi nomenclature. It’s a 3-litre diesel in fact, and fitted with a mild hybrid system that boosts torque and acceleration from rest, and helps usefully with boosting the car’s range.
The A7, largely based on the A6 saloon/estate, is a strong contender in what is still quite a small niche. The BMW 5-series GT is an ungainly alternative, the Mercedes CLS more of a restyled E-Class than true coupe now, and the Kia Stinger a leftfield, and much better value alternative. The Rover option to the A7 may no longer be around, but that great original form four decades back has left an abiding legacy.
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