Overdrive TV

And the Chevy Cruze is one of the cars that contests the championship and it’s absolutely got nothing in common with the one we drove besides the number of steering wheels.

Before we continue, here’s how your Cruze isn’t built:

This is Chevy’s first foray into the medium compact market and this Korean-built sedan is more grey skies and minimum pay than blue skies and Chevrolet.  That isn’t to say it’s built badly. On the contrary it’s a solid enough piece of car and has a satisfying level of finish to just about everything.  Of course, stupidity does creep in to off set the good parts (the Alfa-Romeo style forward mounted speedos so the passenger can’t see how fast you’re going most of the time).  Like this daft ill-shaped storage space on the dash.
You could fit an ill-shaped envelope in there.

But it seems to add to the kind of clip-on tie unintentional cool of the Chevy.  It’s trying to be a Chevy but it isn’t.  Like the opening scene in Office Space where David Herman’s character is rapping along to some gangsta shit behind the wheel of his beige Dodge Aries in a morning commute traffic jam and apprehensively locks his door as soon as a black guy walks past.  It sums up the wigganess of the Cruze. It even shares a surname with the whitest actor alive next to Tom Hanks.  It’s more scientologist than black panther.
But that’s just me trying to put a youthful spin on the whole deal.  It really, really doesn’t matter.

Much like a Cadillac I drove a couple of years ago for Overdrive it comes into its own when you drive like you’re retired.  There must be many older South Africans out there who want to “drive American” again after Chev upped tent and moved their caravan terug oorsee in the 70s.

I initially spent the week flooring the thing at almost any opportunity for a laugh. This engine with this gearbox is just abysmal.   It truly is.  The 104Kw 1.8l four pot just starts with a harshness that turns into a thrashing and finally translates into a rubbish attempt at motion.  It’s monumentally loud and testicleless.

Once my teenage kicks routine had subsided though, I drove it home in the rain late the other night along some tricky coastal roads.  Forced to take it easy, the car came alive.  It suddenly felt taut where it had been giving the impression of flimsiness from that braying lisping engine note.  It was smooth and planted, assured even.  The engine lilted along sedately with no kick-down silliness it swathed through the mist and rain.  I began to like it.

Then my iPod, an ever present companion (the Cruze comes with an AUX inlet) spooked up the roads as it slipped into Speedy Marie by Frank Black a song I’ve probably heard over a thousand times.  But on this standard sound system it was mesmeric.  I heard tambourine in their somewhere I’m sure for the first time.  Far off and lazy. This was transport.  It looks good too, and as I said you can cheer them on when Supersport decides to show WTCC highlights a 3:27 on Tuesday mornings.

The guy who dropped the car off for me asked if I’d ever been to America. “Nope, only Canada,” I replied, to which he said once I’ve been to America I’d understand this car.  How right he was.

Gavin Williams

The interior, yesterday. The Chevy doesn't disappoint here, it's well stuck together and void of cheap plastics.

Tags: africa, chevrolet, cruze, Driven, slowly, south, testicleless

This entry was posted on Sunday, May 23rd, 2010 at 9:45 pm and is filed under Driven. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.