THE ONLY WAY IS UP
Jim Mcgill heads to the Amalfi coast to find out what VW’S dinky hot hatch is made of
I’d been here before, so I knew it was coming; but boy was it a wake-up call when the reality slapped me in the face. And it happened less than a minute, after I left the safe confines of the ‘safety zone’ of the airport car park.
Sat nav route loaded into the phone, I headed out to do battle with the seething mass of red-blooded Italian drivers. First challenge? Dealing with the reality that if you want to join the flow of traffic in Italy, any semblance of following Highway Code procedures are chucked out of the window.
It’s the survival of the fittest; the most daring; the most adventurous; the most stubborn; the most aggressive and the most laid-back.
‘Give Way’ lines? Forget it. They’re painted on the road — but they’re totally ignored.
Spot even the merest hint of a gap, andy out akeit.bap! nose in the space. we’ re on our way. the traffic flows: stop, creep inches forward; stop, creep inches forward; repeat for 200 yards and 10 minutes to a mini-roundabout, where I need to turn left.
I finally get there, and just smile. Somewhere surrounding the mini-roundabout is a road surface, but you can’t see it. It’s covered by cars, nose-to tail on all sides, each driver inching slowly and noisily under a barrage of blaring horns, arms and fingers gesticulating to everyone and no one in particular.
It’s mayhem. It’s brilliant. It’s Naples.
This time I was ready for it, but I remember clearly my first experience of driving a hire car out of Naples Airport. New car; new location; pre-sat nav (I know reader, but those days did actually exist), and next-to-no direction signposts. And all the time, Neapolitan drivers blasting their horns and not giving an inch.
It was hell, until I realised there was no point in taking the British“that’ s not how you drive, my dear fellow” approach. No; that rule book went out the windowvery quickly. on the streets of naples, you fight fire with fire. Dothat,andyouearnrespect.it also, amazingly, makes the driving far more enjoyable.
Thankfully, this time I wasn’t heading into Naples city centre.it was south down the auto st ra de before heading over the hills to the stunning panoramic Amalfitano road.
Perched precariously over the shimmering Mediterranean, the road — which winds its way through a landscape deemed ‘outstanding’ by Unesco — is narrow; at times frighteningly so. There’s good reason why it appears on a number of the World’ s most dangerous roads lists.
Drivers who don’t give you an inch; a constant stream of demented scooter and moped riders; and never-ending tight, narrow, twisty roads.
Just as well then that in the land of the iconic Fiat 500, which was brilliant for coping with the demands of Italian driving, I was behind the wheel of VW’S diminutive, and equalling fun-packed Up GTI.
It’ s just over 40 years sincevw rocked the establishment with the original Golf GTI. Now this sport y version ofvw’ s smallest car looks eerily reminiscent of the first 1976 GTI.
There’s no question the Up GTI looks the part. Resplendentin bright red, there’ s also red strips in the bumpers and GTI badges front and rear. Inside, the tartan upholstery is a throw back to the first Golf GTI.
Powered by one of the industry’s current best engines, the three-cylinder 999cc turbocharged unit delivers 113bhp and, mated to its six-speed manual gearbox, will take you from standstill to 62mph in 8.8 seconds. It’ll also carry on to a max of 122 mph, return 58.9 mpg and emit just 110g/km. And all this, including 17-inch alloys, for £13,750 in three-door form.
Most importantly for this drive, it’s a point-and-squirt red dart, meaning that even the slightest hesitation by a local driver allowed me to take advantage and fill the gap. That said, despite the fact it’s titchy — 3600mm long, 1641mm wide and 1478mm high — I still had that strange reaction of holding my breath, pulling my shoulders in, and tucking in my elbows, when each of the what-appeared-tobe-hundreds of tourist coaches came careering round the hairpins on my side of the road.
I can understand why the cruise liners deposit their photo-hungry passengers at Molo Beverello, south of Naples. The Amalfi Coast is truly breathtaking. No surprise then that the scenery between Positano, Am al fi and ravel lo has it’ s been used in numerous Holywood films.
The jewel in the crown is, of course Positano, where the colourful gravity-defying buildings cling precariously to the steep slopes at the foot of Sant’angelo a Tre Pizzi which, at 1443-metres, is the highest mountain on the peninsula.
Let’ s be honest; getting a car— even the titchy Up GTI — in and out of Positano, with its nightmaringly clogged-up one-way system, was never going to happen with my tight schedule. So, instead I headed for Praiano, 5km south of Positano, for lunch at Il Pirata. Such is its appeal that us president johnf Kennedy dined there.
Next morning, after an all-too brief stay at Casa Angelina ,— like so many buildings, again perched precariously to the cliff — the lure of Positano, glistening appealingly across the Gulf of salerno, was impossible to resist.
As if by magic, 250-odd steps (I know, I counted them) below the hotel on its own jetty, was a powerboat to whizz me over to the Amalfi Coast’s jewel in the crown. Positano is, without question, magical.
But honestly, if you ever think of driving in; don’t. It is utterly bonkers. of course, there are no cars at the foot of the town. The road is about 200ft above the rooftops; and there’s only one way in, and one way out.
Thankfully, the clever people from VW had positioned our chariots in a car park, so all I had to do was climb up through the tourist-packed lanes, jump in the car, and again head into battle with the local son the way back to the airport.
The Up GTI is a blast. Its pace and nimbleness around the Amalfi roads was a blessing, and those attributes will transfer seamlessly into city centre life across the UK. Believe me, if the Up GTI can deal everything the Neapolitans can throw at it, coping with traffic in Tesco car park will be a dawdle.