“THE ENGINE GIVES FANTASTICALLY INAPPROPRIATE PACE AND NOISE”

Small performance SUVs are, as we know, very much in vogue right now. But the RS Q3 is the OG, having first gone on sale way back in 2013. There was nothing quite like it back then, and there still isn’t today. Mainly because of its engine.

Like virtually all other small, hot SUVs, the RS Q3 uses the same engine as the hatchback it’s derived from. Usually this is a 2.0-litre, turbocharged four-cylinder petrol making something like 300bhp. Indeed, were Audi to do an SQ3, it would no doubt have the 2.0-litre engine from the S3 and Golf R. But this is an RS Q3, meaning it shares the RS3’s tremendous 2.5-litre five-cylinder engine. You’re looking at 395bhp and crackers acceleration up to 174mph (assuming you’ve paid Audi £1,600 to up the limiter).

Props to Audi for sticking by this engine in the face of ever-tightening emissions regulations, and when it could so easily have boosted the ubiquitous VW 2.0-litre up to near-400bhp and plumbed that in instead. The five-cylinder is a defining characteristic of this car, giving fantastically inappropriate pace and brilliantly incongruous noise, even if those pesky emissions rules mean it’s lost a degree of sparkle (it doesn’t crackle and pop like it used to, for example). Without the five, the RS Q3 wouldn’t be half as likeable, even if it were as fast.

As standard, the RS Q3 rides 10mm lower than a regular Q3, on passive RS-tuned steel springs. But you’ll want the £995 adaptive dampers, which adds a Comfort mode that doesn’t stop the RS Q3 from feeling firm, but does take the sting out of its tail. Happily, configurable RS modes – accessible via two BMW-style buttons on the steering wheel – mean you can pair the Comfort suspension with the Dynamic engine/gearbox and Normal steering. This is Peak Mode.

Don’t bother with the ceramic front brakes (the rears are always conventional steel discs). Of course they provide tremendous stopping power, but there isn’t enough bite at the top of the pedal. And once pad does grab disc, they can be tricky to use smoothly. You’d get used to them, but better save your £4,475 and stick with the standard discs, which are much more suited to normal road use.

Power is sent to all four wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch automatic that, for the most part, operates seamlessly and smoothly. If you want to go quickly, stick it in manual or it will annoy you – up-shifts are fast enough on more than half throttle. But it doesn’t always give you the gear on the way down, which can frustrate progress.

Of which there is much, because on a damp British B-road strewn with alloymurdering potholes, mud and wet leaves, the RS Q3 is formidably rapid. You sit high, so you can see further than in a conventional hot hatch and so carry more momentum, while quattro means there’s more grip than you’ll ever need. It’s not the most engaging thing to drive – physics means the smaller, lighter RS3 is more fun – but it always feels totally secure and completely trustworthy.

On paper, the RS Q3 is a silly, silly car that defies rationalisation. But in reality it’s... quite likeable. Much more so than the AMG GLB35, or indeed any other performance SUV of this size I’ve driven. I mean, who really needs an Audi Q3 – a family crossover – with almost 400bhp from a five-cylinder engine, ceramic brakes and a top speed of 174mph? Nobody, that’s who. Sensible money buys something else entirely. But sensibleness is seldom fun.