WeeklySA_AdminMIDLIFE REVAMP:Supercar with everyday manners
otoring journalists, like the streets in which they sample their test cars, lead a life full and twists and turns with its concomitant highs and lows.
One day you find yourself behind a sluggish 1.2 thing which is worse than horse riding, and the next you have a supercar to show off to your mates, family, girlfriends etc. ostensibly under the guise of doing your job – “test driving” cars.
There is a catch, however.
The “honeymoon” of being behind the wheel of a test vehicle is ephemeral. Just as you begin to get used to the test unit (unless it’s a long term test), and before you know it, it’s time to part.
Only those who’ve had suffered the ignominy of having their cars repossessed can relate to the sinking feeling of having to hand over the keys of a vehicle back to its rightful owners.
What most newspaper readers may not be aware of (girlfriends included), is that the lot of motoring scribes don’t have cars of their own, which is why the suffer an unparalleled bout of chronic depression when they do not have a test car. And that has the potential to create psycho-social problems.
The envious neighbours who saw you driving in and out of your yard in this fancy convertible now see you joining them at a que at the taxi rank.
With the news that the latest Audi R8 Spyder V10 has broken ground in South Africa, memories of a week I spent with the first generation Audi R8 V8 a few years ago came flooding back to my mind.
Vivid memories of that late afternoon in September when the blue arrived at the offices of my then employer somewhere in Auckland Park, continue to linger.
Before the receptionist could call my extension to alert me there are people from Audi looking for me, my anxiety levels had shot through the roof as I was beginning to wonder if the promise to grant me the privilege to sample this beauty had not been stalled somewhat.
And there she was waiting for me in her splendour. And the world changed instantaneously! To say the whole media house came to a stop, would be an understatement.
Fellow journos and even management head honchos though pressed by deadlines left their work stations to come an ogle this wonder of our roads. I’ve never had so many admirers in my life.
At first sight, my hands got clammy, my knees became wobbly but at the same time my heart was jumping up and down like the Peter Shalulile of Sundowns after scoring a goal.
Suddenly I became more conscious of my dress sense, wondering if my drab clothing is appropriate enough to wear for this vehicle.
It was a week to remember for every trip in this supercar is an occasion. Onlookers wave and bow their heads in admiration, fellow motorists hoot, whistles blow, eyes pop out, and as expected, worried mothers hide their daughters in its wake.
And while it propels forward, the R8 is not quiet about it. Emanating from its gloss black tailpipe trims – which gives the sound an added edge – is a sound that is intoxicatingly “eargasmic”, no doubt befitting a car of its stature. A few days with the R8 can however be exhausting, even if this is a supercar with everyday manners.
Its spectator value can be too overbearing which for some people can be intolerable.
A fellow journo was forced to return the test unit (only two days later) after his ever suffering wife complained of the intrusive show stopping virtues of the R8.
As for my former girlfriend, who dumped me for my roving eye, she confessed the other day when I bumped into her that though things did not work as planned between the two of us, one memory that will forever remain etched in her mind was when she was my co-driver in the Audi R8. Living with such a car, especially in these harsh economic Corona times, can easily lend you with accusations of “conspicuous” consumption.
But who cares, I hear somebody day. And as I handed back the keys to my Audi R8, my mind was left reeling with one question.
Will I ever afford it?
It is priced at R 2,905,500.
Available as both a Coupé or Spyder.
