BMW, never one to miss an opportunity
The 6-series Gran Coupé is predictably superb but it will cost you more than R1m if you venture anywhere near the options list
EMBARRASSINGLY late in life, I am reading Albert Luthuli’s Let My People Go and, with it, naturally, come all the emotions one experiences when reading about life as lived in the past century. The overwhelming sense I get from the book is sadness, because Luthuli was of presidential age at a time when other African countries were shaking off their colonial rulers. And yet SA would have to be so disastrously different. The image of Luthuli receiving his Nobel Peace Prize, which was awarded for his adherence to a struggle philosophy he must have known, in the shadow of Sharpeville, was just not working, is too depressing to contemplate. How nice if nonviolence and Gandhiinspired peaceful disobedience had penetrated the heads of HF Verwoerd and company.
But that’s what we do here. It’s our national expertise. We squander opportunities as though they grow on trees. We behave as if there’ll be another commodities boom. As though 5% economic growth a year is a birthright. As though international goodwill will never die as a result of our firmly, yet inexplicably, held belief in our unique specialness. We play with other people’s property like a child in a jewellery drawer, as though international investors will always be there, as if they won’t mind if, for example, our idea of protecting their property is to fiddle while an illegal strike goes on for weeks, and then, to fix it, gun down 34 people. We tell ourselves that if this kind of investor is put off, another kind won’t mind one jot if we play fast and loose with their stuff.
And, when the messenger comes, we’ll shoot him too. We behave as if, when we need it, another Luthuli will come along. But he won’t. Luthuli is dead —
My test unit came wearing a rather flashy set of 20-inch rims that looked great but ruined the ride
who stuffs the shirt of the Great Non-Leader.
And unfortunately, after the remarkable accident of rocketing African National Congress (ANC) membership numbers in KwaZulu-Natal, and the twin well-fancy-that of plummeting membership in the Eastern Cape, it looks like we’re getting another seven years of Zuma and the consequential decline that will inevitably accompany it. Nobody likes Zuma outside of the ANC. Polls make this clear. But, in a telling blow for democracy, it’s Zuma we’re going to get.
If I was a business operator, I would have to seriously consider the consequences of continued decline of the provision of services, infrastructure and security. Businesses will need a strategy for the fact that Joburg is not going to get fixed. That many poor kids are not going to get educated. That poor people will die in hospital corridors. That’s the great gift coming from Mangaung, from the president nobody wants, from the president nobody elected.
Of course the rich will be fine. Those who control the capital will send it where it will work best. The middle classes will follow. Mantashe can witter on about his “investment strike” if he likes, but he must surely know he’s wrong. The investment isn’t on strike. It’s digging mines in Namibia and building roads in Angola. It’s working really hard elsewhere — you know, where it gets a little respect.
Of course, in business, it doesn’t do to miss opportunities. It’s career-limiting. But there is also the fine art of spotting an opportunity your competitors have missed. BMW is good at this, coming up with cars that nobody knew they wanted until presented with them. Examples are the X6 (an SUV four-door coupé if you please) and the X1 (a crossover, kind of a station wagon on stilts). But it was Mercedes-Benz that worked out there was a market for a large four-door coupé, a sensible large sedan in a swoopy, gorgeous suit. It’s called the CLS, and it’s really rather lovely.
And so, not to miss an opportunity, BMW has built one. It’s called the 6-series Gran Coupé and, save for the odd detail, it’s predictably superb.
One of those details is the way it looks. I’m not a fan of its face, to be honest, but the rest is great, good in the detail and in its proportions. It’s a large, handsome thing.
My test unit came wearing a rather flashy set of 20-inch rims that looked great but ruined the ride. And when I say ruined, I mean really wrecked it. These things crash through the smallest of undulations, all in a car that’s supposed to be comfortable
That aside, the Gran Coupé is a treat. I drove the rangebottoming 640i, which is armed with a 3l, turbo-charged inline six that’ll whisk this big car up to 100km/h in just 5.4 seconds. It is, on standard rubber, effortlessly comfortable and truly luxurious.
So when you want your bum air-conditioned, that’s fine. And you can watch TV if you like, or luxuriate in the epic Bang & Olufsen sound. Add BMW’s navigation iDrive system, which is streets ahead of what you’ll find in the CLS, and a proper head-up display and it makes up for a hell of a good place to sit. Like the CLS it’s a four-seater, but it is for four very comfortable people. In the corners, it cannot belie its size, but the steering is excellent, quick and fairly talkative, and it corners flat and true, all of which means mountain passes are a breeze.
An absolute base model is just more than R880,000, but if you go anywhere near the options list, this is a millionrand car.
And, you know, that’s okay. It goes like one. Just ask for one in sensible shoes. BMW can consider the Gran Coupé an opportunity taken.