‘Skoda can’t have our Yeti for its museum display: we need it’
WE’RE ON THE BRINK of 100,000 miles – a milestone that, unless you’re getting about in an ’80s Merc or perched on a Honda Cub, usually heralds an accelerated decline into non-functioning entropy. Our family Skoda Yeti has been with us for the vast majority of those miles and, sadly, it shows; dog hair is inseparable from strands of actual carpet, L-plate scrapes lend unwelcome topography to its corners, and the steering wheel rim’s glossy like buffed marble. But it shows no sign of bowing out, and neither do we fancy letting it go.
In August, Skoda built its millionth SUV (Yeti shifted 680,000 units). But if they’re after a nice example for their museum they’re going to have to make me a very silly offer (and get a really good hoover) – our world would simply grind to a halt without ours. Plus, we love it.
With this job comes a steady stream of box-fresh cars of all shapes and sizes, from B-road minxes like Alpine’s A110 to exemplars of wanton luxury like Bentley’s Bentayga. But still jumping in the Yeti is a pleasure.
The design was right first time: original, nicely resolved and distinctive like few of its contemporaries. The 2.0 TDI engine isn’t a rocketsled but neither is it slow; stuff the car with people and the powertrain doesn’t notice, and overtaking is on the menu. (Let’s not dwell on what we now know of the engine’s dark secrets…) You always wish the nicely slick five-speed manual was a six-speeder (that arrived with the facelift), and the VW Group’s evil locking system is enough to drive anyone to despair, but the Yeti’s a fine drive; keen, comfy and happy to not hang around if the road’s clear. And irreplaceable, apparently. Who knew?
Enjoy the issue.