KATHY RENWALD FOR THE TORONTO STAR
Audi’s TT Roadster is a sophisticated top-down two-seater, but its exterior styling reminds Kathy Renwald of the bugs she finds under flowerpots.
The Audi TT 3.2 Roadster has some lovely bits: the clutch and gearbox as smooth as silken tofu, the crisp interior stitched together with the skill of a Florentine tailor, and the harmonics of the V6 engine and exhaust, which is kind of alternative and indie with a garage band bite to it.
But – and the but would prevent me from handing over $75,750 for the price as tested TT – its exterior styling reminds me of the bugs found under flowerpots, and the driving position made me feel like a prairie dog popping out of a hole.
If you're my height – 5-foot-4 – it's one of those sit-low-and-peer-over-high-sills-and-hood cars. When the convertible top is up, there's a chunky blind spot made by the passenger seat and sides of the soft top, which expands if a passenger is included. Another blind spot occurs at the A-pillar-side mirror combo, wiping out a portion of the landscape.
If you are the sort with a torso that stretches like Silly Putty, then your head may be above the blockade.
This "low rider" seat position is by no means exclusive to the TT. I suffered it in the BMW Z4, the Mazda MX5, Hyundai Tiburon, Mitsubishi Eclipse and the Chrysler Crossfire. Luckily for me, the Porsche 911 provides perfect views all around (note to Santa).
Consequently, I never felt that soulful bonding of car and driver. I just couldn't quite tell where the four corners were on the TT.
However, it may be a dream car for lots of drivers – a top-down two-seater that's fast, nimble and sophisticated. The Audi press material, which had to have been written by a Booker Prize-winner, foams on about rigorous geometry resoluteness, and reworked elastokinematics (which is not a branch of Scientology).
While driving the TT, you can tinker with science by redirecting magnetic particles in the shock absorbers. This $1,700 option changes the suspension from whipped cream to S&M. I left it in whipped cream most of the time while driving in 905-POT-HOLE region.
The 3.2 L V6 produces bushels of power; the fine print says 250 hp. But it doesn't seem to be a car that needs flame-throwing thrust. Reviewers and bloggers around the universe seem to love the cheaper (starting at $46,900) 2.0 turbo just as much.
So while the TT is fully stoked for straight-ahead speed, it's on the twisty roads that it gets blissful, as the Quattro all-wheel hyperGRIPtonics (my hyperbole) glues the Roadster to the pavement.
Speed sensitive steering adapts to slithery movements so that the TT moves like a snake in the underbrush, and whiskering through the 6-speed, gear to gear, is tangible, magical joy. Big brakes keep any off-course animals from becoming part of the 100-mile diet.
At the start of your trip, you have to put the soft top down. It happens in 12 seconds by pressing a button. If the wind becomes worrisome, another button launches a mesh windscreen to manage the breezes. The week I had the TT, continuous rainstorms blew through, so the 12-second pop top was timely.
Audi always delivers a glamorously restrained interior. For $2,900, the Exclusive Line trim level added leather seats with contrasting trim and stitching. In my tester, the splashes of poppy red lifted the spirits of the basic black.
The seats in the TT are supportive and well-bolstered, and the cockpit feels roomy. After I adjusted the driving position, it did put the dead pedal in an awkward position, but the steering wheel, chunky and shaved flat at the bottom, is a dream.
Instrumentation has sharp styling and crisp graphics; centre console controls angle slightly toward the driver and include easy-to-use radio and climate controls.
My tester, which started at a base price of $63,900, had navigation and a six-CD changer for $2,900. The nav maps were clear, but entering a route required the manual: I think it should be more intuitive.
There is minimal storage in the doors, but a larger breadbox between the seats also acts as a pass-through for walking sticks and baguettes.
I did get a full set of golf clubs and a cart into the trunk, but it required some strong-arming since the trunk is shallow. Overall, it has impressive cargo room for a convertible.
There are thousands of words describing the TT design as iconic. Lots of people like architects and designers love it. I only loved it from one angle – crouching down, looking at the front, it displayed a bit of the menacing good looks of the RS4. But the RS4 is carnal, the TT carnival.
When I was returning the TT to its stable I was passed by a sweet motorcade on the 401: a Ferrari, a Porsche 911 and a Subaru WRX STI.
Should I tuck in behind, I thought? No, that would be like trying to team Miley Cyrus with 50 Cent.
Freelance automotive reviewer Kathy Renwald can be reached at kathyrenwald.com