VW’s new Beetle is simply super

My wife recently pointed out to me that the panoramic sunroof on the Ferrari GTC4 Lusso we were all so taken with last week costs more – as an option – than the whole of her Volkswagen Up! Wow. Good point well made, as usual. But everything is relative. How about, for example, the stunning Art Decostyle picnic set that owners of a new Rolls-Royce Phantom can request as an added extra? It is indeed a most beautiful thing. But beautiful at the cost of a five-figure sum? I’m not so sure.

As far as Ferrari’s coffers are concerned, they need to sell as many extras as possible, as they have obviously been splashing out a euro or two on that nice Mr Vettel’s new F1 car – if last week’s opening Grand Prix in Melbourne was anything to go by. What a relief it was not to see Mercedes several light years ahead of the field like last season.

And well done to all the broadcasters involved for doing their bit to try to freshen up proceedings. As a family, we particularly enjoyed the Formula Film collection Sky added to its movie roster for the weekend.

Spoilt for choice, we plumped for the original Smokey And The Bandit, which the children absolutely loved, followed by Herbie Goes Bananas, which they also loved. As we lay there as one on the sofa – arm in arm, leg over leg, eating mostly only brown things that were bad for us – I ended up doing what I always do during old car movies: I attempted to track down the original star cars and see how much they sold for.

The latest Smokey Trans Am sold at auction in the US a couple of years ago for a touch over $550,000. Herbie, on the other hand, or at least one of him (seven ‘originals’ remain) can be found much closer to home. The unmistakable red, white and blue-striped number 53 racer can be seen in the reception of VW’s London mega- showroom. I walked in recently and there he was, larger than life, winking and flashing his lights at me. Honestly.

Strange that Disney sexed Herbie as a boy, as I have always seen Love Bugs as females. And look what we have here, right on cue, the Lara Croft of Beetles, the brand new Beetle Dune. What a tough-looking little minx. As much as VW over-thought the Beetle 50s – the last special I tested, which looked like a giant Bakelite telephone – it has pretty much nailed the styling this time around.

I am a huge fan of painted metal interior finishes, and the brighter the better. The Dune’s signature Sandstorm Yellow looks absolutely tip-top on the inside of the doors as well as pretty much dominating the whole of the dash. The standard VW switchgear is smart, simple and symmetrical enough not to divert attention away from the rest of a cockpit, which is fairly dripping with nostalgia. I loved the ribbed leather seats that smack of yesteryear, along with the distinct lack of that annoying ‘fifth seat’ in the back – when manufacturers stick an extra seatbelt in the middle just so they can claim five seats on the spec sheet. No way, hombre, this is an honest four-up affair: two grownups and two kids, or two couples, or a couple and two mates, or a ménage à trois with an extra pair of hands available if required. (I should warn you, however, there is surprisingly little leg room in the back.)

Time, then, to fire up this two-litre turbo-diesel with a dashmounted stopwatch and turbo boost gauge to prove it (ooh!). And very nice to drive she is too. I was more than happy pottering along in Normal automatic mode for the first few hours before realising there were paddles behind the steering wheel. All right, how about a spot of semi-automatic paddle-shift fun in Sport mode?

Now, I have to be honest, I wasn’t expecting anything of note to happen next, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. She set off like a veritable rocket and kept on rocketing all the way up through the ’box. Before I knew it, I’d overtaken everything around me, including a hulking 2015-plate Mercedes, and found myself hurtling towards a notoriously sensitive speed camera.

I needed to calm down. I needed us both to calm down. I hit the brakes (excellent by the way), remembered to breathe and backed off. We regrouped and started again, this time taking things more gently, which oddly she struggled with – nowhere near as sweet as the foot-to-the-floor approach. That said, despite her more aggressive looks, she’s a happy car, and in Auto Sport mode seems to be where she is happiest of all.

Now, the most important point you need to bear in mind is, although she may be called the Dune, she

IT HAS NEVER BEEN EASY TO BE GRUMPY IN A BEETLE