From the outside, the
Ibiza is an attractive design and is ageing quite well. The Cupra treatment is quite subtle, especially in black like my car. The only things that really mark it out to the general public from lesser Ibizas are the attractive 17” alloy wheels, the red SEAT Sport brake calipers and the ‘Cupra’ lettering along the boot. This subtlety is no bad thing. Not everyone wants to drive round in something so clearly designed by marketing men as the Mini Cooper S or the new Corsa VXR and this seems to suit the
Ibiza. Would anyone buy a diesel hot hatch to scream look-at-me?
The huge doors close with a nice, VW thunk and, once ensconced on the comfy, if not overly supportive, Cupra branded seats, the subtle theme continues in the interior. Whilst the exterior of the car feels like an exercise in tasteful restraint, you can’t
help but feel that SEAT just couldn’t be bothered with the inside. Being fair, it’s not as if the Cupra was going to get a bespoke interior from the rest of the
Ibiza range; there’s a lot of dark, cheap plastic, but the requisite white dials, aluminum pedals and red stitching fail to lift the interior into an exciting place to be. It’s just not the most inspirational interior. Still, it’s functional, spacious front and rear (providing those in the front aren’t too tall) and most things are clearly laid out. Time to turn the key.
It sounds like a tractor. The engine clatters and rattles into life, reminding you rather forcefully that, yes, you are in diesel. Not the most promising of starts for a car with sporting intentions, but is it the noise that it makes what matters most, or how it drives?
First gear is rather short, it’s only really for moving off in. Changing into second by an accurate, if slightly long shift-action gives you chance to see if a diesel hot hatch can move. If it’s wet, prepare for the traction control light to flicker quickly as you depress the throttle to the floor. As the revs build, the agricultural noise is replaced by a harder, gruffer and generally angrier exhaust note. As the turbo spools up at around 2,000 rpm, the car really does surge forward with the giant-hand-behind-the-car feeling that only turbo diesels seem to possess. The Cupra is certainly quick; zero to sixty times are a meaningless benchmark, it’s much more useful to be strapped into the passenger seat as the driver dispenses with slower moving traffic at a frightening rate. Overtaking opportunities seem to reveal themselves more frequently in the diesel Cupra than you might be used to. It isn’t the fastest thing out there in a straight line, but any full-throttle maneuver that requires minimal gear changes is certainly where the Cupra shines.
It’s good on the motorway too. Cruising at around 80 mph in sixth, the
Ibiza is reasonably refined, with only road noise and wind noise off the wing mirrors intruding on the adequate stereo. It’s also economical; motorway speeds can yield nearly 50 mpg if you’re careful, and thrashing it across B-roads will still see a highly respectable 36 mpg. However, it’s whilst attacking those B-roads where the Cupra’s biggest weakness begins to show.
The handling is good. There’s some body roll, but the levels of grip from the Pirellis is impressive; you have to be really leaden with the throttle to get the Cupra to understeer. Sadly, oversteer doesn’t seem to be available without dangerous provocation and the ride is hard if you fail to spot a slightly sunken grid in time. Safe handling and a torquey engine mean that when you’re trying to get somewhere quickly, the Cupra will do just fine. It’s when you want to be involved when the problems start. The engine redlines somewhere around 5,000 rpm; I don’t know exactly where because there’s no point continuing after 4,000 rpm as the engine has given all it’s going to. This leaves a very narrow power band; although this might be handy for dispensing with real agricultural machinery, it just isn’t much fun. Banging up and down the six speed box feels like a rather back-to-front affair. In a petrol hot hatch, you scream to the redline, change, and keep on screaming off into the horizon. In the diesel Cupra, the surge of torque, the tail off of power and the slightly limp gear change just don’t make for an inspiring steer. Oh yes, it is quick and will not be easily embarrassed amongst it’s petrol rivals, but as an involving drive for driving’s sake, it’s hard to argue in favour of the little
Ibiza.
Still, the motorway cruising, the economy and the ground covering ability do make for a compelling case. If you’re looking for out and out thrills however, I’d look elsewhere.
