Audi TT Coupe 1.8T quattro > Reviews (6)

Audi's iconic coupe has been a favourite with motoring pundits and fashion savvy hairdressers since its launch in 1999 and has been one of Audi's most successful sportscars since the original Quattro of the 1980s.

But is it really as good as many make out?

The incumbent TT Coupe - which is being replaced this year by a newer, sleeker version that just happens to have a nose remarkably similar to that of the latest Ford Focus - shares its underbelly with a Mark IV Volkswagen Golf, which just happens to share familiar components with similarly sized cars in the Seat and Skoda range too. The Golf has always carried a good reputation for its handling prowess and, coupled with Audi's clever four-wheel-drive system, the recipe looks good for a plateful of gourmet automotive entertainment.

Being from the VW/Audi stable, and therefore German, the TT strikes immediately with its impressive build quality and you can't help but be satisfied by the solid 'thunk' of the doors as they swing closed behind you, the sensation of the thick, sporty steering wheel in your hands, the precise engineering of the switchgear and the exacting engagement of the gearbox, each gear flitting neatly from one to the other with a rewarding connection of cogs and another throaty blast from the 1.8 litre engine.

The TT immediately impresses with its pedigree and eminence. It sits proud on its haunches and its flowing lines give you the feeling that it's waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting BMW driver not checking his mirrors on the M1. Everything about the TT screams "success", and Audi wouldn't disagree with that statement. So successful has the TT been that it's barely had a facelift since inception and, unlike many of its competitors, it has taken eight years for Audi to bite the bullet and have a go at updating it.

Over the years different incarnations of the TT have come out and there's now a range of Coupe and soft-top Roadster models to choose from and a plethora of engine choices from the lowly 180bhp 1.8 model to the fiery 3.2 V6. Barely 14 miles per hour separates the top speed across the range and there's hardly anything in the fabled 0-60 dash either, with just 1.3 seconds splitting the basic model from its top of the range sibling.

The model I've had, however, is this one - the Audi TT 1.8 T 225bhp version, arguably the most chosen model across the range. The 1.8 litre turbo engine spins out a whopping 225 brake horse power, dashes from a standstill to sixty miles per hour in just 6.4 seconds and would keep going up to a jail-sentence-acquiring 151mph if you were to find a road long enough, straight enough and clear enough to have a go at it. It's only four miles per hour slower at the top end than the bigger 3.2 litre version, is just 0.2 seconds (a figure only Formula 1 drivers really worry about) slower to sixty than the bigger engine model, yet it's slightly more economical and is a group lower to insure. Not to mention it's cheaper, when buying new, too.

The problem? I just don't like it.

At all.

Whilst hairdressers and footballer's wives rave about its ergonomic looks, I think it looks like a car that can't tell its arse from its forehead. If you swapped the headlights and brake lights over it would look the same either way. The backside looks fatter than my wife's and the front looks as if its been injected with more Botox than Ann Robinson. There's something Beetle-esque about its appearance and that worries me, because it means the designers were thinking about a Porsche 911 when they were trying to come up with something different.

But you don't have to think about the outside when you're inside the car, because that's so woefully dark and dreary you're concentrating too hard on where everything is to worry about the fact that everyone thinks you're driving like a berk. The low brow of the windscreen and the awkward curvature of the side windows combine to reduce daylight coming in to the vehicle, although all-round visibility is adequate if not brilliant. All these, along with a rather narrow and curved windscreen, combine to give you the feeling that you're driving the TT from inside a post-box. Parking can be a nightmare because the curved wings, front and rear, are hidden from view and, despite the car's hatchback size, I've found it harder to park in big spaces than some little ones I've managed to squeeze my Jeep in to.

The interior is laid out functionally, as is typical of most German vehicles. It's not stunning to behold, but it works and it all feels good. The stereo is probably the weakest part of the car's interior: the controls are awkward to use and it's not the greatest sounding unit I've ever had the aural pleasure of. Despite that, it's still a little drab and grey and there's not an awful lot of space. There are a couple of bucket seats in the back but they're more useful as an extension of the mediocre boot space than they are for putting people in. Certainly, adults will struggle to find a comfortable position in the back and even children over the age of seven will whinge if you decide to put your driver's seat in to the position most suitable for you.

Screaming kids aside, however, the TT is remarkably easy to get a great driving position in. The seat and steering wheel all adjust to fit and, as long as you aren't so tall that you crack your head on the low roofline all the time, you'll find the driving position one of the most pleasurable you've come across in a mainstream sports car, and driving the TT seems just as gratifying - at least initially.

There are two variants of the 1.8 turbo engine - the 180bhp version and the 225bhp. Visually, there are almost no obvious differences inside or out, except that the baby version only has one exhaust pipe at the rear whereas the model I've been driving has two. Under normal driving circumstances, the car moves smoothly, the steering flows well through the thick wheel and the engine burbles and revs heartily when you ask it to. The gearbox is a pleasure to use, the clutch is neither too heavy nor too light, and the pedals are just about spaced out well enough that even if you wear clogs you won't inadvertently catch the brake instead of the throttle.

The steering is well-balanced and responds well, if a tad vaguely, to just about any twist or turn you give it. You certainly won't be embarrassed by this car's straight-line performance and, even if I don't like the look of it, the TT sits just as neatly on Cambridge's Regent Street as it does in the centre of Monte Carlo.

Unfortunately, it all falls apart the minute you try and make it do anything exciting. The Golf chassis and Audi's clever Quattro four-wheel-drive system should make you feel like you're in the most secure car ever, with oodles of grip to play with through the bends, but, while this seems mainly true in the dry, show the TT a mildly moist piece of tarmac and it all goes to jelly.

The Quattro system primarily gives most of the traction to the front wheels, with a lesser split to the rear to aid grip, but pull away from a roundabout too quickly in the damp and the front wheels will light up quicker than a reformed smoker who's taken up the habit once again. The rear wheels will sort of spin to try and help but a massive amount of under-steer will have you heading towards the kerb frighteningly quickly.

While most four-wheel-drive cars, whether they are sports models like this one or big off-roaders like my Jeep, trounce their two-wheel-drive counterparts the minute morning dew appears on the roads, the Audi seems to actually suffer in these conditions, and as the roads get wetter so does the TT's approach to handling. I found myself having to tiptoe around corners that I'd go round quicker in the farmer's pick-up truck.

I desperately wanted to like this car. The motoring press rave about it, the in-crowd think they're sexy, young boys admire them and posh girls are easier to pull if you own one. It's relatively fast yet economical to run (with an average fuel consumption of 30mpg) despite the fact that it's CO2 emissions (226g/km) put it into the higher tax bracket. Young drivers will be dismayed to find that the group 18 insurance bracket will mean its impossible to insure without a mortgage, but the rich ones will still buy them anyway. The reality is, however, that I hated it. I can't abide its porpoise-appearance, its letterbox visibility, its drab interior or its useless back seats. The boot is too small to be functional and when nature thinks about giving us a drop of rain the TT becomes less responsive than Noah's Ark, and when the climate conditions are perfect for the TT the stereo is so fiddly you'll probably crash the car while trying to tune in Radio 4.

You can pick up a 2001 model of this car now for between £9000 and £11000 depending on condition and history, private or trade purchase, or brand new it'll set you back around £29000. Personally, though, I'd consider the competition - it's directly set up against BMW's Z4, Mercedes' CLK and Porsche's Boxter. All are revered by the same coiffeur set, all are much-of-a-muchness when it comes to buy-price and running costs and all carry a prestige badge and German build quality.

If you fancy something different, however, you can always consider Honda's S2000 with its high-revving engine and space-age dashboard or, if you want to let the hooligan in you out a little bit, there's always the Subaru ImprezzaWRX or MitsubishiEvo range, both of which have four doors, big boots and blistering performance for less money.

Alternatively, if you've got the cash and really, really want the Audi, go down to your local dealership and stick a deposit on the new TT. It's got to be better than the old one.