A car? Named after a bike race?
2005 Audi TT 1.8T Review:
After months of trying to convince her to buy something Italian, Julia's bought herself an Audi TT. And, irritatingly, it's rather good.
My girlfriend, Julia, has hunted for a car for the better part of a year now. This is what she ended up with. I tried to get her in an Alfa, which didn’t work. I tried to get her in a Fiat, which didn’t work either. She tried to convince me about the modern MINI, which almost made me pop a blood vessel. Then she said about how she’s wanted an Audi TT since she was 12. So, she bought one.
And it’s a good one. Bought with less than 60,000 miles on the clock, with an unmarked leather interior, heated seats, zero tin-worm, a comprehensive service history and, most importantly, a tape deck. Because everyone knows the 90s didn’t end until 2009.
As usual, let’s talk about the things I like first. Things like how thankful I am that Julia’s TT was built after 2000. Because before that, they had a bit of a habit of spearing off into the verge at random and killing their owners. So, several lawsuits later, Audi decided to rework the suspension, and by Jove, I think they cracked it.
It certainly has the potential to amuse my girlfriend. On the M65 from Manchester to Preston, there’s a fantastic right-left chicane at junction 1A, formed from a repurposed roundabout. Right where the M65 joins the A6.
We were on our way home from a day out at the Trafford Centre and Julia, most graciously, offered me the keys. After spending the better part of half an hour tootling along the inside lane at 70 mph, I began grow wearisome. It was at that moment that I spied the aforementioned chicane on my sat-nav.
So, I dropped the TT down a cog and flung it into the right-hander. No body-roll. No understeer. No drama. I aimed for the left and gradually rolled onto the power as I kissed the apex of the corner. Julia screamed like an ecstatic teenager at the apex of the Pepsi Max’s plummet; I shared the same dopey grin as a Labrador playing fetch. And the TT took it all in its stride.
The engine is surprisingly spritely. It’s a 1.8 litre, turbo-charged, petrol four-banger with five valves per cylinder. Which is odd. But it’s fast, in a Fiat 500 Abarth/Ford Fiesta ST kind of way, producing 180 bhp and 173 ft/lbs of torque. Oh, and it’s got double overhead cams, which makes it more eager to rev-up than a Soho strumpet.
The power delivery almost feels old-school. Up until about 3,500 rpm, there’s nothing. Then, at 3,501 rpm, the turbo comes on song and there’s a satisfying shunt as all 10 psi of boost is forced into the engine at once. And, when you snap the throttle shut at 5,000 rpm, the diverter valve hisses like an irritated grass-snake. It’s fun.
My only gripe is that it’s a bit too quiet. The exhaust sounds like it’s strangling the engine and I can’t help but think about how much better the throttle response would be if one of the silencers and maybe the catalytic convertor was chucked in the bin.
Now for the bad. Unfortunately, Audi, I’m not best chuffed with your work on the interior. It shows that you never planned for the TT to be driven by six-foot tall blokes. With the seat in the correct position for my lanky legs to operate the pedals, I can’t reach the gear-stick or any of the controls for the heater and stereo. Which is annoying.
Also, that engine looks like a pig to work on. It barely fits between the towers and to get at anything you have to remove a load of plastic shielding held on with fiddly hex bolts and brittle plastic clips. It looks like a bit of a slap-and-dash job, and I imagine the scenario panned out in the following manner.
Audi built the car, then sent its workforce down to the Bierkeller as a reward. Mid stein, Hans (of the engineering department) exclaims, “dummkopf, we forgot to put the engine in!” As he’s gathering up his bratwurst and donning his Alpine Hat to head back to work, Ulrich (of HR) tells him to pipe down, finish his beer and sort it out in the morning. That night, the Audi workforce consumes Germany’s entire supply of Beck’s © in celebration. The following morning, crippled with a hangover, Hans staggers into work, drops the engine off an engine crane into the bay, throws a load of Tupperware at it and sods off home. Because to hell with keeping mechanics happy.
But I digress. The TT is another example of a car I really wanted to hate, but couldn’t. Strangely, it’s as characterless as German cuisine, but somehow still manages to be fun to drive. It’s reasonably practical, pokey for its age, handles like its on rails and Julia loves it to bits. What more could you ask for?
Still a bloody hairdresser's car though, isn't it?
Luke Wilkinson 2018 ©