SPLIT PERSONALITY
Taking a new Macan Turbo on an Alps tour.
It’s my first time travelling on the Chunnel. Ordinarily, when driving abroad, I hop across to the continent by ferry, but this time, as part of a tour organised well in advance of my confirmed attendance, travel plans were arranged for the group with the quickest way of reaching France in mind. Rolling onto the train, I’m immediately struck by the tight width of the gangways in each carriage. When crossing by water, I’m usually in a small-to-medium sized sports car with bags of room to play with, but right now, I’m riding high in the cabin of a new Macan Turbo. The 981 Spyder and duo of 964s ahead of me seem to have no problem moving forward with plenty of space to spare, but the Macan — a monster truck by comparison — seems unable to do the same without the sidewall of at least one tyre making contact with the raised metal edging of the parallel walkway at all times. Battle scars along each kerb prove this is the place alloy wheels come to die. At the rear, the lone 991 Carrera T in our party — a giant when compared to the 964 Micro Machines ahead — succumbs to the inevitable. Making the injury even more regrettable is the fact proud owner, Ian Harris, bought the car only a few hours beforehand. Drat.
After a short time zipping across the ocean floor, the convoy of Porsches is instructed to roll out. There’s a sharp corner on the approach to the retracted roller door leading to the land of Moulin Rouge, Jean-michel Jarre, Escargots de Bourgogne and, er, Disneyland Paris. I wince as the train leaves its mark on the polished offside front rim of the Macan Turbo loaned to me by Porsche only a day earlier. In that moment, I hope this is the first and last time I have the
misfortune of travelling by Chunnel.
You may be wondering where our party (and this story) is heading. You may also be questioning why I am in a 440bhp 2.9litre twin-turbo V6 load lugger and not my significantly smaller, Chunnel-friendly (probably, though I have no desire to find out) 997 Carrera 4S. The ski resort of Megève in the Alps of southeastern France is our destination. Each year, this group of Porschephiles heads to Les Loges Blanches, a fantastically positioned four-star hotel welcoming of automotive enthusiasts looking to put their four-wheeled friends to the test along some of the most challenging mountain roads the region has to offer. For this most recent outing, trip attendees recognising downtime in my usually busy schedule invited me along for the ride. My all-pawed 911, however, has been in need of attention (you can read about its ailments on page 102). A mere five-thousand miles have been covered in the Basalt Black belter since its last major service at independent marque specialist, PIE Performance, but I’d rather give the car a once-over, fresh fluids and filters before embarking on a fast-paced near 3,000-mile round trip tackling greasy ribbons of asphalt zig-zagging their way through snowcapped mountains. The car’s top mounts and lower control arm bushes have seen better days and I’ve yet to fit the Goodyear Eagle F1 Supersport R black circles sitting patiently in my workshop. In summary, I’m not convinced I have time to right these wrongs before the fast-approaching departure date.
After much in the way of head scratching, I reasoned now would be the perfect opportunity to discover the answer to a question I’ve been asking for many months: can the new Macan Turbo really be all things to all people? On paper, this crisp crossover does everything brilliantly, but how does that
translate in the real word? In an age where Turbo has become a trim option, as opposed to an indication of what lies within (hello to the Taycan fans among you!), and when it’s likely a high number of Macan Turbos will become Chelsea tractors, does a Porsche that’s part SUV, part sports car perform as well in each role as the manufacturer wants us to believe? A punishing hack across the Alps, bookended by comfortable cruising at motorway speeds, all the while being asked to carry a mountain of luggage and camera gear (and, genuinely, a stepladder), seems like the perfect way to find out. Probably.
PURPLE REIGN
We regroup at the first service station we encounter in France. The grazed 991 and Macan are joined by the rest of the group, which includes the aforementioned 964s, the previously-spoken-of 981 Spyder, a stunning red 981 Cayman GT4 and the sublime Amaranth Violet 968 Sport driven by Dave Barr-sanders, Director of RSR Independent, a respected Porsche specialist based in Hampshire. A Ukonly model offered in the lead up to the end of 968 production, the Sport was essentially a Clubsport with creature comforts reinstated. Rear seats, cloth front seats, power windows, central locking and a host of other electrically operated equipment was fitted. Bizarrely, the Sport was priced at almost six grand less than the standard 968, but featured most of the base model’s toys. Needless to say, Clubsport DNA hugely boosted appeal, resulting in the Sport massively outselling the boggo 968 before discontinuation in 1995. Seeing Dave’s Sport in Porsche’s eye-popping purple paint is a real treat for the eyes.
With each car treated to a bellyful of fuel, James Stewart, owner of the Maritime Blue 964 Carrera RS evocation leading the charge, points his air-cooled
IN FRANCE, A COUPLE OF SAT-NAV UNITS — MINE INCLUDED — FAIL TO REGISTER WITH SATELLITES, MEANING NO GRAPHIC REPRESENTATION OF THE ROAD AHEAD
classic in the direction of Troyes, a prefecture on the Seine river some ninety miles southeast of Paris. There, another 964 owner will join the party, before the group will chart its way southeast along the evocatively named D996 (which, incidentally, runs close to the pleasingly labelled D959, D901 and D928) bound for Dijon, covering seventy miles of exciting curves and high-speed straights cutting through eye-popping stretches of open landscape, dense woodland and slower roads twisting through provincial villages. Incredibly, all of what’s on offer is celebrated for being almost completely free of traffic.
Before we can enjoy the driving thrills offered by the D996, however, we need to complete the near four-hour journey to reach it. Prior to leaving the UK, each of us has loaded a Garmin sat-nav (yes, really) with the same set of pre-planned routes to avoid anyone getting lost if, say, they want to travel at their own pace or are forced to take a break. There’s only one problem: landing in France, a couple of these units — mine included — fail to register with satellites, meaning no graphic representation of the road ahead and instructions making little sense. The Macan Turbo comes equipped with a glorious Porsche Communication Management (PCM) system, complete with sat-nav displayed on its massive touchscreen. By default, it will almost certainly take me the quickest route to the Pomo Hotel in Grenoble, where we intend to spend the night before making our way to Megève. If I want to enjoy the exciting D996 and find out just how accessible this 2.9-litre biturbo’s performance really is, I’m going to have to follow the car in front, which has already set off. Thankfully, this powerful Porsche pushes forward at great pace, meaning tricky traffic is likely to be my only obstacle... I hope. Onward!
Read the next instalment in our Macan Turbo Alps adventure by hopping online and pre-ordering the February issue of 911 & Porsche World at shop.kelsey.co.uk/nw381. Better still, subscribe and get all forthcoming issues of the magazine delivered direct to your door at a heavily discounted rate. Visit shop.kelsey.co.uk for latest offers.