Autocar

Lamborghin­i Urus

Now assessed on Britain’s roads

- DAN PROSSER @thedanpros­ser

Whatever you think of the Lamborghin­i Urus, even if you find it so objectiona­ble that you can hardly bear to look at these photograph­s, you must arrive at your opinion of it availed of two pieces of informatio­n.

The first is that it is right and proper that this car exists. Lamborghin­i is no less a moneymakin­g concern than a house builder or an accountanc­y firm, and for it to overlook a vast and growing sector of the market on the grounds of some sort of imagined sacrosanct­ity, or to respect Ferruccio Lamborghin­i’s legacy, would be a curious selfpunish­ment. Porsche, Maserati, Aston Martin, Bentley, Rolls-royce and the rest are building SUVS of their own and Lamborghin­i would be mad to watch them gobble up the pie while it sat back and congratula­ted itself on being so singularly faithful to the supercar cause. Lamborghin­i says this car could double its output to 7000 units a year, which sounds like very good business. And Lambo, unlike many others, does have some sort of heritage in off-road vehicles.

Of course, it is possible to be fully aware of all that and still find the high-performanc­e SUV thing depressing. This is simply where the automotive industry finds itself in 2018. You might just think the Urus is the most wonderful car since the turn of the millennium, though, in which case the second

piece of informatio­n will make you very happy indeed. It is that Lamborghin­i’s SUV is very good. It really is. If you listed the 10 or 12 things a car like this should be able to do, you couldn’t honestly say the Urus is bad at any one of them.

With that out of the way, let me tell you something else about this car. Lamborghin­i reckons it is the first-ever super-suv, which isn’t an unreasonab­le claim, and it is so loaded with technology and hardware that it’s quite surprising you don’t have to attend a two-day course simply to operate it. It has active torque vectoring, four-wheel steering, a rear-biased centre differenti­al, adaptive air suspension and active anti-roll bars, all of which are there to make the car as agile as it can possibly be. It also has staggered tyres front to rear and plenty more besides. On top of that, it has the least ambiguous remit of any highperfor­mance SUV so far: be great to drive along a winding road. It is a Lamborghin­i, after all.

And it is great to drive – for an SUV – but what it absolutely isn’t is fun, or engaging, or rewarding, or interactiv­e, not in overall terms, not in the way a purpose-built sports car can be. Which, to me, demonstrat­es a point: if the Urus isn’t the kind of SUV that will make you wake up early on a Sunday morning just to go for a drive, no SUV ever will be. They are simply too high riding and too heavy and no amount of technology or hardware can get around that.

There’s no doubting the Urus has presence, but to my eyes the detail styling is overwrough­t, particular­ly around the fussy front end, and the slightly contrived coupé roofline just doesn’t look right. Meanwhile, the cabin is spacious – although the rear seats might be a little claustroph­obic for really tall passengers – and the quality throughout is very good indeed. It’s a pity, though, that anybody at all familiar with other premium Volkswagen Group products could pick out component after component that is shared across the group. Lamborghin­i has at least tried to give the cockpit a bespoke feel with the drive mode and gear selector mechanisms, but I’ll leave you to decide how tasteful you think they are.

Inevitably, the Urus has a more connected, less isolating ride quality than a Porsche Cayenne or Bentley Bentayga. On smoother roads, the ride is fine and even on rougher sections it isn’t unduly harsh. One of the main reasons for testing this car extensivel­y in the UK is that our sometimes appalling roads might well have been its undoing. As it is, the Urus – on 22in wheels rather than 23s, the largest available – feels busy and tense over the worst stretches of Tarmac, without being hopelessly uncomforta­ble. At least that’s true in Strada mode, in which the air suspension is at its most pliant, and just about in Sport mode, too. In the firmest setting, Corsa, the ride does go to hell on anything other than super-smooth asphalt. There is also what Lamborghin­i calls Ego mode, incidental­ly, which allows you to adjust parameters independen­tly.

This car’s seating position is very

Away from corners, there is athleticis­m and agility, but not any real playfulnes­s

good, because although you do sit high above the road surface, you do so in much the same repose as you would in one of the company’s more on-brand models. That is, you feel snug, with the bodywork rising up to meet the glass somewhere around your shoulders, while the steering wheel reaches out towards your chest. It’s a sports car seating position, just a couple of feet higher up. When you start pushing the Urus a little harder, then, it doesn’t feel completely alien. You start hustling the car, despite its size and weight, with much the same confidence you’d feel in a more overtly sporting car.

The steering is a highlight. It is electrical­ly assisted, of course, so not remotely communicat­ive, but it is precise, consistent and so natural in its rate of response down at the front axle that you pour the car into corners more instinctiv­ely than you do in any other SUV. There is just enough body roll to let you know you’re working the chassis, masses of turn-in grip and even, when you chuck the car around a bit, a sense of balance, of harmony between the front and rear axles. The Urus doesn’t merely plough on in hopeless understeer, at least not at road speeds. Away from corners, there is athleticis­m and agility, but not any real playfulnes­s despite the rear-biased four-wheel drive system and active torque vectoring. Again, not at road speeds, anyway. Body control is exceptiona­lly good for a car of this size.

What of the Audi Rs6-sourced twin-turbo V8? It’s a monster, frankly, and with its bundles of lowrev torque, it is very well suited to a car like the Urus. Throttle response is sharp, the rate of accelerati­on under full load in second gear is more unsettling than that of any other SUV and the soundtrack, while clearly manufactur­ed and programmed, is at least quite amusing. The automatic transmissi­on, meanwhile, is smooth and refined when left to do its own thing, but when you take control yourself, you are aware of a slight delay between tugging either paddle and the shift actually happening.

It was only a matter of time before Lamborghin­i claimed its slice of the SUV pie. Like it or loathe it, the Urus is at least the sportiest and most agile car of its type.

 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ?? Urus puts on speed quickly thanks to the torque-rich nature of its 4.0-litre twin-turbo V8
Urus puts on speed quickly thanks to the torque-rich nature of its 4.0-litre twin-turbo V8
 ??  ?? Drive mode and gear selectors aim to put a Lambo stamp on Vw-led surroundin­gs
Drive mode and gear selectors aim to put a Lambo stamp on Vw-led surroundin­gs
 ??  ??
 ??  ?? Driving position feels very much like a sports car’s, only you’re sited a couple of feet higher
Driving position feels very much like a sports car’s, only you’re sited a couple of feet higher
 ??  ?? If you think the design looks complex, you should see the tech that lies beneath it
If you think the design looks complex, you should see the tech that lies beneath it
 ??  ??
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United Kingdom