Shaken, unstirred: Audi TTS Roadster 2.0 Quattro review
It’s a fine machine but you want something more from a convertible sports car.
There are many ways of getting to sleep. What I do is imagine that James May is explaining how electricity works or talking me through the achievements of TE Lawrence. However, as you’ve never really seen James May unedited, this wouldn’t work for you. So how’s this for a suggestion? The Audi TT.
It’s the most unexciting exciting car yet made. As faultless and as exquisite as a diplomat’s handshake, it comes at you with a beaming smile and a superb suit, but it is completely incapable of ruffling feathers. Were it a person, it would agree with everything you said.
Back in the days of Top Gear, we took an Audi TT to Iceland and made easily the most unmemorable 20 minutes of television in history. Later, on The Grand Tour, I tried again with the TT RS, taking it to Croatia. And do you remember it? No, of course you don’t. It’s like trying to remember the lunch you had on a Tuesday in 1986.
Imagine my disappointment, then, when I went outside last week to find that the car I’d be reviewing was yet another Audi TT. This time, a convertible version of the TTS model. A quick glance round the interior reveals nothing but well thought out design and a surprisingly big boot. The knobs are big and easy to use. The sat nav screen is located in the instrument binnacle, where it’s in your line of sight. And the seats are both supportive and comfortable.
We’ve been making cars for more than 100 years now and the TT demonstrates Audi is well on top of the game. All of the things that might at one time have driven us mad are gone. There’s now just a wall of common sense, layered on top of good, practical thinking.
Happily, however, the TTS roadster had some surprises in store, the first of which arrived when I went for a drive in central London. The road surfaces here are bad enough to be annoying in any car that isn’t set up properly. And, crikey, the TTS was jiggly. I put the suspension in Comfort setting but it didn’t make the problem go away. This, then, is not a car in which your passenger is going to be able to send a coherent text. Of course, it could be argued that because it’s the S version of a sporting coupe, I shouldn’t mind the bumpiness, but what’s the point of a Comfort mode that doesn’t provide any comfort?
Later, I left London for a trip to the countryside and soon had to pull over and check the roof was sealed properly. It was. This car is loud, therefore, on purpose. You can hear every atom passing over the canvas roof right up to the motorway speed limit, when their anguished cries are drowned out by an astonishing din from the tyres. This is a car that will give you a headache.
The next day, though, the sun was out so I lowered the roof and drove on country lanes to the pub. And normal service was resumed. It was all lovely. If it had been a ploughman’s lunch, the cheese would have been crumbly, the apple crisp, the pickle from Branston and the onion sharp enough to cross your eyes. If it had been a film, it would have been Avengers: Endgame, a wonderful example of movie-making in the 21st century.
As I got into open country, it was quite windy in there. But I found the button that raised a flap behind the front seats and, having pressed it, it wasn’t windy any more.
I missed the TT RS’s turn of speed and its noise, but the simple TTS model is much less expensive and, for the money, it was all I could have expected. The ride comfort, so poor in town, became bearable, the steering was lovely, and here’s something really good: it was the first Audi TT I’ve driven recently that didn’t come with squeaky brakes.
So, would I buy one? Well, no. The noise on a motorway is too much and I spend far too long bumping around on the small bit of London’s roads that hasn’t been converted into cycle lanes. But there’s more to it than that. It’s the way a car such as this would never compel me to go for a drive. All that power, space and four-wheel drive and, actually, you know what? I’ll walk. I need the exercise.
It’d be the same with the Mercedes SLC and the new BMW Z4. I’ve driven neither but I suspect they will both suffer from the Audi’s inability to give you a pouting, come-hither look. They are just very good machines, when what you want from a convertible sports car is something else, something more.
Audi TTS Roadster 2.0 Quattro
Engine: 2.0-litre turbo four-cylinder petrol (225kW/400Nm)
Average fuel 7.2 litres per 100km
Transmission: Seven-speed dual-clutch automatic, all-wheel drive
Price: From approx $100,000, in Australia late 2019
Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars