Polo players don’t drive German superminis, in the same way Dustin Hoffman never pulled over near a Hollywood studio in a Chevy Celebrity. So, who does drive a Polo? The same people who drive a Golf – only ten years younger, with a bank account ten grand shorter. And until last year, these people have been a little alienated from the VW customer circle – with a new Golf recently introduced and the older Polo getting a little long in the tooth.
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Having some time on my hands, I ventured out again into cardealershipland. Wanted to get my hands on the mini mites that inhabit many an urban Brazilian cowboy’s dream. You know, the call of the sertão (that’s what you think we call the pampas.) In the left corner, all the way from Italy, but made in Brazil, the long-time favorite and market leader Fiat Strada Adventure Locker. In the right corner, the Teutonic tiny titan, the all new VW Saveiro Cross. As the long names suggest, these are the top of the line offerings from each maker. Both offer cheaper, less equipped versions for the daily grind and/or work routine. So hold your cavalos, vaqueiro, I mean, hold your horses, cowboy! Which one comes out on top? (Read More…)

During a recent visit to Houston’s Johnson Space Center, I stood at the business end of the mighty Saturn V lunar rocket and contemplated many things. On the surface, I found myself excited and awestruck at the spectacle of the raw power represented by this engineering landmark, but introspectively, I also felt a twinge of sadness, realizing that I was now an adult and quite obviously not the astronaut I one day hoped to be.

It’s funny how reality sometimes smacks you like that. My youthful (space) flights of fancy also included plans to own a daily driver capable of an 11-second quarter mile, but today I drive a car capable of pulling a trailer and carrying six adults. I’m embarrassed to admit that it’s never accelerated to sixty in under nine seconds. Time, along with an inconvenient concept called “real life,” end up teaching us that raw power isn’t really everything. In the end, we often find ourselves settling for many things that would have sorely disappointed our younger expectations.

However, before I blast off into a fit of nostalgic anomie, I should mention a fabulous little coping mechanism called the 2010 Volkswagen GTI. Yes, the original hot hatch and its segment-founding “you-can-be-responsible-and-still-have-fun” formula remain thankfully intact—when you get behind the wheel, your life will almost assuredly suck less. Unless you are an astronaut. Who owns a Ferrari.

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When Jay Shoemaker reviewed the 2010 Prius, he castigated it for its dead-feeling controls, strange operating procedures and total lack of soul. He concluded: “But I have a feeling that one day soon we will be able to drive something that gets outstanding mileage while stimulating its operator in the process.” Mr. Shoemaker, your car has arrived. May I present the Volkswagen Jetta TDI?

Station wagons, or “estates” as they are known across the pond, occupy that strange place in the auto market between SUVs, minivans and sedans. On the surface, wagons promise the holy grail of cargo schlepping and fuel sipping. But they’re not as sexy as a sedan, not as practical as a modern crossover and they can’t haul as much crap as a minivan. In the new world “station wagon” brings up PTSD style flashbacks of 1970s Country Squire wagons with a roof-rack and eight kids in the back on the way to summer camp, 8-track blazing, and your dad at the helm wishing he had a terrier and a 240Z instead. Thankfully, this is not your dad’s Oldsmobile Customer Cruiser. For this comparo we’ve selected the BMW 535xi Wagon, Mercedes E350 Wagon, Volvo XC70 T6 and the Volkswagen Passat 2.0T Wagon.

Unlike the New Beetle, an impractical fashion statement of a car, the (Real) Beetle eschewed style for utility. The ads of my youth played that up relentlessly, amusingly, logically. The Beetle was cheap. It was a cinch to fix. Fender-bender? Just undo several bolts, pop the old one off, put a new one on. The car was so tightly constructed that you had to open a window to close the door. Heck, the Beetle was so tight it could float. “If Senator Kennedy had been driving a VW, he’d be President today,” the National Lampoon opined.

The CC stood out like a swan amidst a gaggle of homely Jetta ducklings on the VW dealer’s lot, its aesthetic appeal undeniable. In contrast with the company’s marketing approach with the Phaeton, the CC is virtually badge-less and, at first blush, hard to identify as part of the VW family. I suppose it still looks vaguely Germanic since it shamelessly cribs from the Mercedes CLS it aspires to be. Comfort Coupe or Caustic Copy?

A large percentage of TTAC readers arrive here via a Google search of a specific vehicle. They know nothing of– nor care much about– our “take no prisoners” editorials or Inside Baseball auto industry analysis. So, in their honor, let’s start with THE key fact: the VW Routan is a rebadged Chrysler minivan. Rebadged as in mildly reworked. So why buy a VW Routan instead of a Chrysler product? For the same reason you’d buy a Chrysler minivan over a Honda Odyssey or Toyota Sienna: no reason at all, really. But there’s more to it than that. At least in theory…

The previous gen Jetta was one of the few small station wagons available in the U.S. It garnered a dedicated following amongst those who needed extra space but didn’t have to prove anything to anyone by driving an SUV. When the bulbous fifth generation Jetta debuted, the wagon was missing– but promised. Three years later, it’s finally here. Was it worth the wait?

First impressions last. And many are formed by the appellation given a child at birth by well-meaning parents. Guys named Percival, Chauncey and Marion know the answer to “what is in a name?” And now, Tiguan. Pronunciation? Is it TEE-gwan? TIG-yoo-wahn? Tig-WAHN? Any way you say it, Tiguan sounds more like some species of sub-Saharan reptile than a girlie soft-roader. Like that boy named Sue, Smuckers or Huckabee, any vehicle with a bizarre name better be able to stand up for itself. So is VW’s new mini-ute good enough to compensate for its cumbrous cognomen (stupid name)?