In Hugh Lofting's 1920 classic The Story of Doctor Doolittle, the good doctor meets a great many fascinating creatures, one of which is the neither-fish-nor-fowl pushmi-pullyu.
The obvious ambulatory problems associated with having an independent head at each end of one's anatomy were foremost in my mind when i heard the exciting news earlier this morning that i would be able to test-drive the Citroën DS4 200 DSport :-)
i am going to make the assumption that if you are reading this, you would already be familiar with the conceptual design philosophy (or would that be plural) behind the DS4, so i'm not going to repeat them here.
i was consciously pondering such issues during the drive, as if acquainting myself with the relative spacing of the six forward ratios wasn't enough.
Much has been made of the car's ride height, but if truth be told, i wasn't greatly aware of a particular sense of loftiness - nor of the advantages thereof - although having said that i was able to deftly avoid the swerving antics of fellow motorists due to a closed middle-lane (roadworks - surprise, surprise) with minimal drama.
The throttle response and the slug of torque helped, of course. The fat torque band really means one can afford to hop-skip-and-jump around the six ratios with a fair degree of abandon, forgoing - for example - the odd-numbered ratios for the even ones. Fourth seems particularly close to third, and second is quite adequate from a standing-start; fifth seems to be perfectly usable around town and one does not need to wait for the expressway to dabble with sixth from time to time. The clutch biting point is fairly high-set, and it's combined with the fairly unique pairing of an electronic parking brake, so one can literally up-and-go from the traffic lights, skipping over ratios along the way.
Although having said that, the car does offer one tremendous incentive to plough its elasticity through each one of those six ratios - namely the way it comes on-song from about 3600 rpm. There is already at least one video on YouTube featuring the DSport, purely as a soundtrack.
About that afore-mentioned parking brake, i did become especially conscious of it when stopped at a traffic junction up a slope, and i was wondering how its algorithms would cope with a hill-start (not having three feet). So deep in thought was i, that i missed the light turning green, and was honked (twice) by a blue car behind me. Having moved off, it turned out that the blue car was a suitably be-scooped and be-spoilered Impreza. For the briefest moment, the thought flashed into my mind of flooring the pedal and showing him what's what. But no, i resisted the temptation, because that would have handed him too much satisfaction. So instead, in the spirit of a classic ad for the Honda NSX, i rubbed it in - by driving slowly.
Subaru-man overtook me, of course.
Nonetheless, should the mood so carry you, even aggressive ups-and-goes at T-junctions are fuss-free - the car changing direction with little inertia and feeling all-of-a-piece; in this it shares much with its smaller brother the DS3. All the more credit to the chassis engineers then, given its ride-height; in this it shares much commonality with that other niche-buster, the Evoque. Torque steer doesn't really raise its head - provoke it as i tried. In fact the steering - while still characteristically Citroënesque in its non-communicativeness - feels much more carefully calibrated in terms of its heft than the go-kart application in the DS3.
All rather grown-up, then.
And so, as the drive progressed and i became more familiar with the capabilities and potentialities of its chassis, my attention turned to the less apparent things. That flat-bottomed wheel may look a gimmick, but i experienced a frisson whenever my fingers came in contact with its aluminum finishing - the presence of the latter (and the differential tactility it afforded) contributed greatly to my sense of confidence in placing the car accurately in tight corners, as i soon knew instinctively the angle of the steered wheels as the leather rim and its aluminum finish slid through my fingers.
Did i ever feel i was driving a coupé? Well, yes, to be honest - but only (and ironically) when i was in a carpark, and the lower level of ambient light meant that the cabin architecture was lit. In my peripheral vision, i registered two backlit power window switches by my right hand. Strange though it may seem, this was enough to communicate to me subliminally that i was driving something rather special.
So… family hatchback or slinky coupé? high-riding urban transport or high-performance Golf-frightener?
It makes you think, doesn't it?
It makes you stop, look, ponder, and (perhaps) even trawl up some obscure literary reference from an earlier century.
It helps you realise that the point is not in the destination, but in the journey.
It's something that would be beyond the philosophical reach of Subaru-man.
A worthy Citroën, then.
:-)
[much gratitude to Doris from Cycle & Carriage France, for so kindly facilitating the drive]
all jumped up and nowhere to go :-P