Brothers from a di erent mother. And father
Hot T-Roc R and T-Roc Cabrio could hardly be more di erent. By Anthony rench-Constant
Trapped temporarily into a daily choice of two T-Rocs, the missus and I are entirely in accord – especially since I unearthed a glasses repair kit disgorged years ago by a pointlessly posh Christmas cracker, and, therein, a screw minuscule enough to secure the errant lens in her shades.
I take the one powered by a T-Rex with a wasp under its tail, and she takes the one with a demountable trampoline roof and 114bhp. Because, lid off, shades on, Wrigley’s in, Radio 1 on, it matters not a jot to her either that it has a tendency towards the shudderbysmal, or that – in torque delivery terms – it couldn’t pull a new age traveller off your sister.
Bodyshell, performance, handling, ride quality, luggage capacity, upholstery and colour aside, there’s little to choose between the R and the Cabriolet. However, with her unerring eye for detail, the missus has spotted one significant difference hidden away in reverse gear. The Cabriolet’s rear sensors are so neurotic that the flimsiest waving frond of a clematis sends the emergency braking system into a panic, slamming on the anchors with appalling, unheralded vim. Not a great start to a day of lidless motoring.
Speaking of clematis, one of the rag top’s more redeeming features is its gigantic-wheelbarrow ability to transport tall plants home from the local nursery without any shoot-snapping destruction of the shape which made you choose them in the first place. As long, that is, as you keep the speed low enough to prevent the wind promptly doing what the roof lining hasn’t.
Life in the R, meanwhile, continues to be a hoot. However, time recently spent in a Mk8 Golf has served only to confirm how much sweeter a steer is afforded by the hatch’s stance. Hard to believe such a small difference in height could have such a clear impact on involvement at the helm.
The R is proving a doddle to live with, not least because once you’ve switched off a safety feature you don’t want meddling in your affairs, it stays off thereafter. Owners of the new Golf are destined to rapidly become cross-eyed with irritation at the discovery that Lane Keeping Assist, which turns the helm into a miffed python with the cutting of each corner, must be deactivated every time you start the car. And that entails an ecstasy of screen stabbing. There is a button on the end of the indicator stalk but that doesn’t switch the thing off, as in some other VW Group products – it merely indicates system status. Ludicrous.
Ever since I spec’d our 508 SW in posh GT trim, complete with massage seats and not one but two interior fragrances, I’ve wondered whether any of it was worth the extra outlay. Seven months in – and about six months since I last dabbled with Peugeot perfumes and a pummel in the back – that’s an easy answer. But given the choice again, what else would I have done differently?
The engine would still be the sole petrol available (plug-in hybrid aside), a punchy but quiet turbocharged 1.6 four that gets closer to its WLTP figure with each passing mile. But if we’re to forgo the top-of-the-line GT (losing the fancy seats and fragrances, adaptive cruise control and lane keeping assist, a Focal hi-fi, and adaptive dampers I never touch) you are limited to its 178bhp version, not our 221bhp.
It’s then a choice of Allure or GT Line trims, with the entry-level Active ruled out as it’s offered only with diesel grunt. You can quickly add £2k to the price of either by choosing leather trim and red paint. Yet I’ve a 22-month-old so the seats need to be wipeable, and Ultimate Red is the only bright colour (though our current Twilight Blue has grown on me).
In the past bigger alloys were key, but these days it’s all about the headlights – their intricacy is one area where designers can flourish when much of the front bodywork is derived from pedestrian crash regs. Lesser 508s have halogens, and do without those vertical LED running lights too – but rather than spend £850 upgrading an
Allure, the £1800-more GT Line trim includes them, plus extras like a smartphone charging plate and inch-bigger alloys.
All in we’re around £36k now, down but not massively so on our current car. But it’s way cheaper than the German equivalents, right? Well, actually… a quick scout around BMW’s configurator imagined a new 3-series Touring, similar to the Pug, for £1300 more. Across a long-term lease deal the extra monthly cost would be negligible, while you’d have better residual values if the BMW were an outright purchase.
Don’t buy either yet. BMW’s approved-used network lists three-year-old, current-generation 520d Tourings for a smidge over £20k. (Then I went down an online rabbit hole with the 5-series Gran Turismo and Merc’s R-Class, wondering if either was worth a four-figure punt instead.) Becoming sane again, a secondhand Five, from a dealer, with a warranty, is all you’d ever need – and on finance, around £300 per month, rather than the circa £450 for this new red 508 SW.
The story so far
Plug-in-hybrid version of PSA-developed crossover
Do 30-odd miles every day? Then 150mpg is easy
Want some fun? That’s the hard bit
Logbook
Price £43,400 (£43,900 as tested) Performance 1598cc turbo four-cylinder plus twin e-motors, PHEV, 296bhp, 5.9sec 0-62mph, 146mph
E ciency 204-225mpg (o cial), 34g/km CO2 Energy cost 6.0p per mile Miles this month 248 Total miles