Straight As
The last A-class sat awkwardly in the
Mercedes range. A cut-price rule-breaker
among expensive traditionalists, it broke
from the clubland ethos to both cheapen
and sharpen the brand.
This time, however, it’s back in the fold.
How do we know? Because this A200 CDI
Avantgarde SE we’re testing costs more
than £20,000.
That’s not doing battle with the Focus or
Scenic any more. That’s right at the top end
of the premium hatch market; right where
the Audi A3 is already fiercely contesting its
birthright against the challenger from BMW
– the 1-series.
Last year the revised Audi A3 added the
five-door Sportback to its range, helping
boost UK sales to a whopping 22,000. That’
s not far off Toyota’s peoples’ car, the
Corolla. Back in 2003 the A3 was neck and
neck with the old A-class at around 13,000,
but a year later sales of the ageing A sank
to just 9000. There’s a lot riding on the
newcomer’s launch, then.
Despite their different profile, the Merc and
the A3 in 2.0 TDi Sport trim are well
matched. Both sport the latest 2.0-litre
common-rail diesel, both producing
140bhp. And both strive to offer an
executive ambience in a tightly bound
package. Can either of them really justify
their £20,000 price tag, and if so, which one
should you buy?
A hatch for SW1
Read the vital stats of the A-class and one
fact pings off the page. The car is 3838mm
long. Man, that’s short, you think, before
searching something to compare it with.
And there it is. The A-class is shorter than a
Fiesta.
There’s two ways you can take that. Either
you applaud the awe-inspiring design that’s
gone into making a proper five-seater that
short, or you think: for £20,190 I can have
two Fiestas.
In comparison, the £19,300 A3 Sportback is
a more substantial 4286mm, which is closer
to a Focus. Side by side, the Audi does
shrink the Merc to its measured
proportions, but on its own it really doesn’t
look small – nor, as we discover, does it
feel small inside.
Of course, you don’t need to pay the
£20,190 needed for this highest-powered
version of the 2.0-litre CDI diesel. The
range starts at £13,655 for the base petrol
3dr, while diesels begin at £14,445 for the
82bhp A160CDI. As we reported in the
March issue, that’s really too underpowered,
but the much better 109bhp 180CDI is a
more realistic £15,715 for the stingily
specced Classic 3dr.
The five-door Sportback drops to just over
17 grand if you don’t mind the 105bhp 1.9
TDi, or you can get the 2.0TDi for a fraction
more than £18,000 if you don’t mind
cutting a few creature comforts.
But it’s at the very top that the cars have to
prove themselves. At this end, there should
be nothing lacking in the way of equipment,
letting their skills show through.
Inside
This being Mercedes and Audi, there’s still
room to spec. We’ve got the most
expensive A-class currently on sale, but still
the Avantgarde SE lacks climate control
(£400), a reach adjustable steering wheel
(£110) and window airbags (£200).
Otherwise, you get air con, CD player, trip
computer and steering wheel controls for
the stereo, plus traction control. The Audi
A3 Sport hands you the same list bar
steering wheel controls, but adds those
three glaring omissions from Mercedes,
saving you £710. But metallic paint at £485
is just robbery.
The previous A-class tried to match its fresh
exterior with what Mercedes imagined was a
less stuffy dash. But the cheap plastics and
gimmicks like the giant semi-circle of a
speedo robbed it of its exclusive image,
and they haven’t tried it twice.
Now, elegant slivers of chrome ring the
conventional dials, the cupholder and
temperature controls, lifting the dash from
its soberly refined darkness. A hi-tech
metallic plastic frames the centre console
(or go for wood in Elegance SE for £195
less), but no material shines brighter than
it should. This time the materials are
(mostly) top-quality.
In fact, the same elegant chrome rings are
to be found in the Audi. One or two rakish
touches like the dog-leg handbrake or the
TT-esque dormer vents challenge the
executive twilight, but all materials are top
quality. Turn the dials to the standard
climate control and you realise that
Mercedes has once again been beaten. The
slightly fussy buttons and dials in the A-
class don’t depress or spin with the same
gravity as they do in the A3, and that’s
before you drive into the night and
experience that life-enhancing backlit glow.
Round one – just – to the Audi.
Look around the A-class however and it
gets clever. Somewhere at the core of the
Mercedes kingdom there must a van
encased in kryptonite, because they never
pass up an opportunity to create a baby
Sprinter. Maximum space of 1995 litres of
tells you why they no longer needed the
long-wheelbase A-class version, but first
you need to hit the option list and pick the
Easy-Vario Plus seats (£240). These allow
you to remove the back seat rests and the
whole front passenger seat to liberate all
the extra room. You still need to lift up the
rear seat squabs, but the space is flat. Or,
and this is what most people will do, you lift
up the two-stage boot floor to its up
position, thereby removing the load lip and
creating a flat floor without the palaver of
removing seats.
Over in the Audi there’s no pretension of
practicality. The rear seat backs split and
drop easily to form a not-very-flat surface.
But the boot’s still useable at 370 litres (vs
435 in the Merc with the seats up).
Rear room is also good in the Audi, with
plenty of leg, head and footspace behind a
six-footer. The shock is that it’s fully
beaten by the Mercedes. The alchemy that
went into creating an interior of that space
from a car that short will probably only be
known when the German officials secrets
are made known several decades from
now.
Engines on
The difference between old and new in the
A-class is that it now looks like it can keep
up with an A3. The chiselled drama works
better with the three-door, but the extra two
doors doesn’t diminish the new–found
sporting intent in the way they do with the
A3 Sportback, even with its new chrome-
lipsticked grille gape.
Both the 2.0-litre engines offer 140bhp, but
the Audi musters 244lb ft of torque against
221lb ft for the Mercedes. However, raced
through their standard six-speed
gearboxes, both reach 62mph (ie100km/h)
in the same 9.5secs.
Once again it’s common-rail diesel vs the
Pumpe Duse individual injector system
used throughout the VW Group, but the
Mercedes just has the edge on official
economy and emissions at 52.3mpg and
141g/km vs 50.4mpg and 150g/km for the
Audi
The engines split in character right after
both start up with a diesel grumble. From
then both quieten, but the Mercedes unit
wants to rev like a petrol and tempts you
into stretching into revolution figures that
can’t contain the eventual thrashiness. The
good thing is that there’s tanker-loads of
torque from everywhere, so you’re never
more than a toestretch away from a
wonderful surge, even in sixth on the
motorway.
The Audi in contrast feels more
strangulated and less willing to rev, but
then up comes that great welling of torque
as the turbo come on song. The band isn’t
as wide as it is in the Mercedes, but once
you’re in there your power account’s always
in the black and it feels genuinely quick.
Broadening that feeling of satisfaction is a
rewarding gearchange that gives just the
right amount of challenging resistance
before taking up the next gear. The new
Mercedes box isn’t hard to use, at least in
the forward gears, but it’s just a
gearchange. Reverse however is a travesty
– you have to strain to lift it up and back.
How different from the Audi’s satisfying
push down and across. In the Mercedes we’
d take the extremely competent CVT
(continuously variable transmission), which
for a £1160 hands you a trouble-free auto
with almost no mpg penalty. In the Audi
there’s the heaven-born DSG option of
course, if you can find £1400.
As for economy, our challenging country
drive dropped both to within fractions of
each other at 33mpg. Back on the
motorway, the reset figure drifted easily up
to the high 40s for both.
Ride and handling
The old A-class suffered from the stiffness
needed to maintain stability. This time, say
Mercedes, they’ve created something they
call selective hydraulic damping that
softens at slow speeds and hardens when
under full load. Round town we found the
stiffness intact. Every council-ignored
pothole, every squashed beer can is
transmitted faithfully. But then you attack a
speedbump and it replaces concrete with
foam. Puzzling.
In the Audi there’s a similar effect. Not
quite as hard perhaps, but nuggety all the
same. Then, hit a speedbump and it’s all
softness. However we preferred the
Mercedes inside the M25. The extra height
is a bonus, and coupled with lighter
steering, more forgiving engine and a
450mm shorter footprint and it’s a clear
urban winner.
Away from the city streets the Audi
reasserts itself. The extra resistance on the
steering helps both on motorways and
round corners to keep it on the intended
path, even if it sometime feels a little
disconnected. And the multi-linked
independent rear suspension swallows up
road serrations better than the torsion bar
set-up on the Mercedes. However, flung
round a bend, the A-class feels wonderfully
composed. Mercedes talk about a
“spherical parabolic rear axle”, which is
meant to translate as constantly upright
rear wheels, even in the most violent
cornering. Sounds made-up, but it’s true –
the rear wheels in our necessarily OTT
cornering shots are unbowed. The lower A3
encouraged faster speeds, but it didn’t
have the monopoly on fun. The Mercedes’
quick steering helped, as did sharper
brakes over the muzzy action in the A3.
Verdict
Can either of these cars really be worth
£20k? Drive the Audi down a motorway at
night and you’d say yes. It always feels like
a proper executive car, with the weight,
tactile quality and power that should bring
(that and the red backlights). Down the
same motorway and the Mercedes feels
ordinary. It’s just as refined, but there’s not
enough of that business-class aura that
lifts that feeling it’s just another well-built
hatchback. Knowing you paid £20,000 for it
really doesn’t help. But the A-class also
deserves an entry in the great book of
automotive history, whereas the A3 does
not. How, in the name of Alec, can a car
almost half a metre shorter have more
interior and boot space, even without its
clever seats? And produce the same power
and, as near as dammit, the same
handling composure? At this price, the Audi
wins. But the A-class shouldn’t leave empty
handed. Let’s give it a lifetime achievement
award.
The last A-class sat awkwardly in the
Mercedes range. A cut-price rule-breaker
among expensive traditionalists, it broke
from the clubland ethos to both cheapen
and sharpen the brand.
This time, however, it’s back in the fold.
How do we know? Because this A200 CDI
Avantgarde SE we’re testing costs more
than £20,000.
That’s not doing battle with the Focus or
Scenic any more. That’s right at the top end
of the premium hatch market; right where
the Audi A3 is already fiercely contesting its
birthright against the challenger from BMW
– the 1-series.
Last year the revised Audi A3 added the
five-door Sportback to its range, helping
boost UK sales to a whopping 22,000. That’
s not far off Toyota’s peoples’ car, the
Corolla. Back in 2003 the A3 was neck and
neck with the old A-class at around 13,000,
but a year later sales of the ageing A sank
to just 9000. There’s a lot riding on the
newcomer’s launch, then.
Despite their different profile, the Merc and
the A3 in 2.0 TDi Sport trim are well
matched. Both sport the latest 2.0-litre
common-rail diesel, both producing
140bhp. And both strive to offer an
executive ambience in a tightly bound
package. Can either of them really justify
their £20,000 price tag, and if so, which one
should you buy?
A hatch for SW1
Read the vital stats of the A-class and one
fact pings off the page. The car is 3838mm
long. Man, that’s short, you think, before
searching something to compare it with.
And there it is. The A-class is shorter than a
Fiesta.
There’s two ways you can take that. Either
you applaud the awe-inspiring design that’s
gone into making a proper five-seater that
short, or you think: for £20,190 I can have
two Fiestas.
In comparison, the £19,300 A3 Sportback is
a more substantial 4286mm, which is closer
to a Focus. Side by side, the Audi does
shrink the Merc to its measured
proportions, but on its own it really doesn’t
look small – nor, as we discover, does it
feel small inside.
Of course, you don’t need to pay the
£20,190 needed for this highest-powered
version of the 2.0-litre CDI diesel. The
range starts at £13,655 for the base petrol
3dr, while diesels begin at £14,445 for the
82bhp A160CDI. As we reported in the
March issue, that’s really too underpowered,
but the much better 109bhp 180CDI is a
more realistic £15,715 for the stingily
specced Classic 3dr.
The five-door Sportback drops to just over
17 grand if you don’t mind the 105bhp 1.9
TDi, or you can get the 2.0TDi for a fraction
more than £18,000 if you don’t mind
cutting a few creature comforts.
But it’s at the very top that the cars have to
prove themselves. At this end, there should
be nothing lacking in the way of equipment,
letting their skills show through.
Inside
This being Mercedes and Audi, there’s still
room to spec. We’ve got the most
expensive A-class currently on sale, but still
the Avantgarde SE lacks climate control
(£400), a reach adjustable steering wheel
(£110) and window airbags (£200).
Otherwise, you get air con, CD player, trip
computer and steering wheel controls for
the stereo, plus traction control. The Audi
A3 Sport hands you the same list bar
steering wheel controls, but adds those
three glaring omissions from Mercedes,
saving you £710. But metallic paint at £485
is just robbery.
The previous A-class tried to match its fresh
exterior with what Mercedes imagined was a
less stuffy dash. But the cheap plastics and
gimmicks like the giant semi-circle of a
speedo robbed it of its exclusive image,
and they haven’t tried it twice.
Now, elegant slivers of chrome ring the
conventional dials, the cupholder and
temperature controls, lifting the dash from
its soberly refined darkness. A hi-tech
metallic plastic frames the centre console
(or go for wood in Elegance SE for £195
less), but no material shines brighter than
it should. This time the materials are
(mostly) top-quality.
In fact, the same elegant chrome rings are
to be found in the Audi. One or two rakish
touches like the dog-leg handbrake or the
TT-esque dormer vents challenge the
executive twilight, but all materials are top
quality. Turn the dials to the standard
climate control and you realise that
Mercedes has once again been beaten. The
slightly fussy buttons and dials in the A-
class don’t depress or spin with the same
gravity as they do in the A3, and that’s
before you drive into the night and
experience that life-enhancing backlit glow.
Round one – just – to the Audi.
Look around the A-class however and it
gets clever. Somewhere at the core of the
Mercedes kingdom there must a van
encased in kryptonite, because they never
pass up an opportunity to create a baby
Sprinter. Maximum space of 1995 litres of
tells you why they no longer needed the
long-wheelbase A-class version, but first
you need to hit the option list and pick the
Easy-Vario Plus seats (£240). These allow
you to remove the back seat rests and the
whole front passenger seat to liberate all
the extra room. You still need to lift up the
rear seat squabs, but the space is flat. Or,
and this is what most people will do, you lift
up the two-stage boot floor to its up
position, thereby removing the load lip and
creating a flat floor without the palaver of
removing seats.
Over in the Audi there’s no pretension of
practicality. The rear seat backs split and
drop easily to form a not-very-flat surface.
But the boot’s still useable at 370 litres (vs
435 in the Merc with the seats up).
Rear room is also good in the Audi, with
plenty of leg, head and footspace behind a
six-footer. The shock is that it’s fully
beaten by the Mercedes. The alchemy that
went into creating an interior of that space
from a car that short will probably only be
known when the German officials secrets
are made known several decades from
now.
Engines on
The difference between old and new in the
A-class is that it now looks like it can keep
up with an A3. The chiselled drama works
better with the three-door, but the extra two
doors doesn’t diminish the new–found
sporting intent in the way they do with the
A3 Sportback, even with its new chrome-
lipsticked grille gape.
Both the 2.0-litre engines offer 140bhp, but
the Audi musters 244lb ft of torque against
221lb ft for the Mercedes. However, raced
through their standard six-speed
gearboxes, both reach 62mph (ie100km/h)
in the same 9.5secs.
Once again it’s common-rail diesel vs the
Pumpe Duse individual injector system
used throughout the VW Group, but the
Mercedes just has the edge on official
economy and emissions at 52.3mpg and
141g/km vs 50.4mpg and 150g/km for the
Audi
The engines split in character right after
both start up with a diesel grumble. From
then both quieten, but the Mercedes unit
wants to rev like a petrol and tempts you
into stretching into revolution figures that
can’t contain the eventual thrashiness. The
good thing is that there’s tanker-loads of
torque from everywhere, so you’re never
more than a toestretch away from a
wonderful surge, even in sixth on the
motorway.
The Audi in contrast feels more
strangulated and less willing to rev, but
then up comes that great welling of torque
as the turbo come on song. The band isn’t
as wide as it is in the Mercedes, but once
you’re in there your power account’s always
in the black and it feels genuinely quick.
Broadening that feeling of satisfaction is a
rewarding gearchange that gives just the
right amount of challenging resistance
before taking up the next gear. The new
Mercedes box isn’t hard to use, at least in
the forward gears, but it’s just a
gearchange. Reverse however is a travesty
– you have to strain to lift it up and back.
How different from the Audi’s satisfying
push down and across. In the Mercedes we’
d take the extremely competent CVT
(continuously variable transmission), which
for a £1160 hands you a trouble-free auto
with almost no mpg penalty. In the Audi
there’s the heaven-born DSG option of
course, if you can find £1400.
As for economy, our challenging country
drive dropped both to within fractions of
each other at 33mpg. Back on the
motorway, the reset figure drifted easily up
to the high 40s for both.
Ride and handling
The old A-class suffered from the stiffness
needed to maintain stability. This time, say
Mercedes, they’ve created something they
call selective hydraulic damping that
softens at slow speeds and hardens when
under full load. Round town we found the
stiffness intact. Every council-ignored
pothole, every squashed beer can is
transmitted faithfully. But then you attack a
speedbump and it replaces concrete with
foam. Puzzling.
In the Audi there’s a similar effect. Not
quite as hard perhaps, but nuggety all the
same. Then, hit a speedbump and it’s all
softness. However we preferred the
Mercedes inside the M25. The extra height
is a bonus, and coupled with lighter
steering, more forgiving engine and a
450mm shorter footprint and it’s a clear
urban winner.
Away from the city streets the Audi
reasserts itself. The extra resistance on the
steering helps both on motorways and
round corners to keep it on the intended
path, even if it sometime feels a little
disconnected. And the multi-linked
independent rear suspension swallows up
road serrations better than the torsion bar
set-up on the Mercedes. However, flung
round a bend, the A-class feels wonderfully
composed. Mercedes talk about a
“spherical parabolic rear axle”, which is
meant to translate as constantly upright
rear wheels, even in the most violent
cornering. Sounds made-up, but it’s true –
the rear wheels in our necessarily OTT
cornering shots are unbowed. The lower A3
encouraged faster speeds, but it didn’t
have the monopoly on fun. The Mercedes’
quick steering helped, as did sharper
brakes over the muzzy action in the A3.
Verdict
Can either of these cars really be worth
£20k? Drive the Audi down a motorway at
night and you’d say yes. It always feels like
a proper executive car, with the weight,
tactile quality and power that should bring
(that and the red backlights). Down the
same motorway and the Mercedes feels
ordinary. It’s just as refined, but there’s not
enough of that business-class aura that
lifts that feeling it’s just another well-built
hatchback. Knowing you paid £20,000 for it
really doesn’t help. But the A-class also
deserves an entry in the great book of
automotive history, whereas the A3 does
not. How, in the name of Alec, can a car
almost half a metre shorter have more
interior and boot space, even without its
clever seats? And produce the same power
and, as near as dammit, the same
handling composure? At this price, the Audi
wins. But the A-class shouldn’t leave empty
handed. Let’s give it a lifetime achievement
award.
 |
 |
 |
 |
1-series v A3 twin test, December 2004
A3 v A-class twin test, May 2005
