Gavin, my co-editor, is quite an observationalist. He spots things that most wouldn’t, and then relays the information in an often hilarious manner. Once he’s made me notice something, I can very rarely ignore it. Like the way Vic Maharaj, a panellist on SuperSport’s Formula 1 show, begins every sentence with ‘basically’. I’ve probably ruined that for you now.

Another astute observation that has stayed with me concerns Jazz musicians. They’re the only musicians on earth who seem to make a habit of having more fun than the audience. Watch the next jazz band you see carefully; they’ll constantly smile at each other, simultaneously nodding in approval of each other’s astonishing musical ability. It’s nauseating. We bought the tickets, we’ve paid for your awful checkered pants and we’re over here, you wallies.

Luckily, the Honda Jazz is exactly the opposite of the genre. Like most Hondas, it gets on with the job of being a great little car with absolutely no fuss or pointless posturing, allowing you, the driver, who paid for thing, to enjoy it. A saxophonist’s vehicle this isn’t.

I know you’re expecting me to immediately sing the car’s praises (that may or may not be my last music pun) but let’s start with what I don’t like about the car. The door handles are too ‘clangy’ – they should be sprung. It just doesn’t feel good. The USB connection, while I’m glad the car has one, feels very much like an afterthought. The cable juts out of the dashboard looks like a lizard’s tongue and the clip is too plasticky. The boot cover rattles over bumps – it should be secured. And that is that when it comes to negatives. In my line of work, that is a very short list, in case you’re from Honda PR and you’ve just had a mild stroke.

The interior. Reminds me of those oversize calculators.

Otherwise, I loved pretty much every moment I shared with the bright red Jazz I commandeered for a week. It is the third car I have every driven which I would consider actually buying, after the Chevy Lumina SS V8 and the Suzuki Jimny.

It is such a clever little car. It’s pretty tiny, yet there is loads of space inside: a boot that can take golf clubs and a guitar AT THE SAME TIME, a backseat big enough for grown-ups and a light airy cabin, thanks to a seriously raked windscreen and a simply giant moonroof, which essentially is your entire roof. A nifty cover slides into place if the sun is really cooking, but 90% of the time the moonroof is a delight, keeping children occupied and wowing potential partners of the opposite sex.

The Moonroof.

It’s not just a pretty package either. The car is an absolute hoot to drive. The iVTEC motor is revvy and helluva perky; it pulls in any gear and the power delivery is smooth for such a small motor, while the engine note somehow stays on the pleasant side of harsh.

I had a clear run on the epic coastal road from Hout Bay to Cape Town and enthusiastically remained within the speed limit, exploring the car’s impressive ability. I love small, ballsy cars. Many bigger, powerful sports cars have a slightly dead feeling about the handling, leaving you to drive using The Force. The Jazz on the other hand conveys loads of information to your fingertips, as well as your backside. All four wheels are pushed out as far as possible into the corners, which lends the car a go-kart-like feeling. I know that term is bandied about a fair bit but it truly applies here. It all makes for an involving drive which is terribly refreshing these days.

The Jazz has topped the JD Power Customer Satisfaction survey more than any other car in recent times. It’s a solid family run about with a dash of enjoyment for the more enthusiastic  driver. In a market awash with decidedly boring mini-hatches, it’s a little gem. The Jazz will put a smile on your face, rather than smirking at itself like a self-interested keyboardist.

It really struck a chord with me. Sorry.

Specifications, pricing and other information about the Honda Jazz in South Africa

Model: Jazz 1.5 i-VTEC EX-S 5 door Manual
Price: R201 900
Power: 88kW @ 6600
Torque: 145Nm @ 4800
0 – 100km/h: 11.6 seconds (claimed)
Fuel consumption: 8.24 litres per 100km (combined)

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:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=guA6oJgTyv8

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.

It’s difficult to explain how much I love the Suzuki Jimny. And it’s not my fault, I am after all, an impartial motoring journalist. But quite accidentally, or maybe on purpose, Suzuki have built a car that is incredibly endearing. Not liking the Jimny would be like not liking a Jack Russel puppy. Or a four year old girl with blonde curls. Or a that little girl’s little hamster, Smartie.

It is, for all intents and purposes, a niche car. There is no boot to speak of, but you can remove the backseats which helps. It is very narrow, and quite cramped if you’re over 6 foot tall. But I’m not, so it’s perfect.

Rather than squash obstacles, like a Range Rover or Land Rover Prado would, it sort of skips over them. Like a Jack Russel actually. It is monumentally good fun off road.

Ironically though, I can’t think of a better city car. Think of it as a Smart car on stilts. Because of it’s diminutive dimensions it is very easy to park and because of its ride height you can park it anywhere and confidently mount any curb, without risking damage to the vehicle.

The fuel consumption is spot on and you’ve got everything you’d really need for a trip to the shops; an MP3 CD player, aircon, power steering and 4-wheel drive to keep you safe in the wet. Given that Cape Town is currently under water, this is useful. It’s got cult status this car, but I wish it got the attention it deserves. I feel like it’s a young rapper, who knows he’s got talent and just needs a chance to prove himself.

Much like Jack Parow. Which is why, when he rang us up and asked what we thought of the Jimny, we were delighted to reply that we actually had one in the Overdrive Garage. So he came over and we went for a spin.

Jack Parow is not a small chap. He’s over 6 foot and has more presence than most WWE characters. Gavin, Mr Parow and myself hopped in and went to fetch some other musical types named Hunter and Pierre. And I’m pleased to report that with a bit of creative mangineering it is possible to fit five grown men into a Jimny. Look, we couldn’t make it to Durban like that. But it was fun.

Back in the Overdrive Garage, Parow delivered his verdict: maybe.

But don’t listen to him. Well actually you should, because he’s hilarious and his beats are insane. But don’t listen to him about cars. That’s our job.

Oh, and that’s Gavin in his new video by the way. Which we’ve handily linked for you here.

“Say what you will about the tenets of National Socialism dude, at least it’s an ethos”-Walter Sobchak The Big Lebowski.

I love companies with an ethos.  BMW with rear wheel drive. Coca-Cola with Stalinesque world domination. Google for having to remind themselves not to be evil. Dolce & Gabbana with making pants that only fit 14 year old street urchins (which is a nice change to companies whose clothes are made by 14 year old street urchins).  The list goes on and Subaru is firmly on it.  It’s patented and ubiquitous All Wheel Drive System is second only to quattro perhaps. With Audi bringing out the next generation of its game changing system on the RS5 soon, the new Legacy would have to be better than its last incarnation.  That’s kind of the point of making newer versions of cars isn’t it?  The brilliant (and not because I just bought one) previous gen has dedicated fan forums all over the world.

The Legacy has always been the more suburbanly urbane older brother of the twitchy-eyed WRX, while still being able to fly into a martial arts and vodka inspired rage. Controlled and aggressive, it was a family car with a dark side. But a good dark side, like Jamie-Lee Curtis in True Lies or Benicio Del Toro in his daily life.  I had just received my 2005 Legacy Sportwagon 2.0GT when Subaru dropped the new one in our driveway.

Let’s start with the looks, which is Subaru’s strong point in the same way Bruce Willis’ blues band is his.  The previous Legacy was svelte, cultish and purposeful, but the new one just looks a bit flabby.  It doesn’t seem to quite fill the wheel arches well enough which adds to its bulbousness.  It seems to take styling cues from Honda Accords, Lexi and a bit of a 5-Series around the back.  And no-one wants to take “a bit of a 5-Series around the back”.

The Legacy’s strength has always been its understated design, until it punches quicker looking cars out at the lights.  But somehow this blandness doesn’t convey that same wolf in sheep’s clothing attitude nearly enough.  Little things seem to almost wantonly try and make it less sporty.  For instance, putting the Auto into Sport # (sharp) mode makes the car a bristling devil cat, but once you turn off the engine and get back in, it’s reverted to its standard drive setting of “Intelligence” so you presumably don’t gun it up your driveway through your kids’ backs.

The inside bit.

I don’t quite understand keyless ignition in this country.  We live in a hijacking jackpot and if a car opens up when you approach with your keys in the pocket at gunpoint, I’m not sure it’s doing you any favours.  Unless you can convince your criminal masterminds that your car doesn’t require keys leaving them to push the Start button, drive away and cut out some way down the road while you have made your escape.  I think they might have figured that out though.

The Legacy however has gone with the keyless vibe, and there’s always something a bit Le Mans about punching an Engine Start button.  Unfortunately the slightly lunatic sound of the 2.5 Turbo boxer is a little muted in the new car, another casualty of it’s sturdier bulk no doubt.  Planting it though, you’re in no doubt you’re in a Scooby.  It’s amazing how they can still surprise you and bring a smirk to the jaded corners of your mouth.  Inside it’s still Subaru and they’ve even started to make it not look like the interior was designed on a lunchbreak in the 90s.  It’s a great place to be.  It’s more refined and stately, but is that what you’re after in a Subaru?  I still want it to feel a bit more rally.  Like it should have a leather stitched roll bar and Colin McRae’s signature  somewhere you can’t see it.

Make no doubt, this is still a superb car but eyebrows will be raised at the club when you tell them you payed R439 000 for a Subaru.  When Subaru will outlive this stigma is anyone’s guess.  They’re brilliantly engineered but not within an inch of their lives like say an Audi.  There’s still room for some “whoa, fuck me” driving as the Japtech under the surface keeps the car planted as an ancient tree.  It has a massive boot and fancy acronyms like LineartronicTM CVT to tell co-workers about.  And it’s a hoot, we just wish it was slightly more stripped down.  The WRX’s older brother has stopped drinking (12.2km/l!!!!) and now talks about something he saw on TV at braais.  It’s alright to grow old, just don’t grow up this quickly.

-Gavin Williams

Audi R8 V10, Subaru WRX Sport, 2am, Hels Hoogte Pass, Stellenbosch.

These days, the people’s car company makes a car for every person on earth. Volkswagen is now a very big family, having gobbled up Audi, Lamborghini, Bentley, Seat, Skoda and even Bugatti.

Gavin didn't get to drive his through a Dulux factory, unfortunately.

Let’s be honest, there are certain things women didn’t traditionally do. Like drinking until throwing up on a fern in an Umhlanga hotel lobby or just throwing. Until recently the world of car design has been as male-dominated as a Premier League changing room. But the new Z4 is, wait for it…designed by two women; Juliane Blasi and Nadya Arnaout and fair play to BMW for giving the ladies a crack. I suspect it might be some sort of guilt-laden PC response to all the male chauvinist BMW owners in Ray-Bans and Sasoons who were responsible for 80s divorce rates.

It was quite obviously time for BMW to respect the ladies and the bodies they create and not just see them as a passenger side pair of airbags.  Remember too that an Iranian woman, Zaha Hadid, designed BMW’s faultlessly cool Leipzig Central Building. So, are they going a bit soft and girly in Bavaria?  Not a chance.  The new Z4 is all flared aggression and full frontal machismo.

The ladies have always preferred a bit of rough rather than a hair-dried ponce talking about his yoga, or so I’m told. But they do like someone who shares their feelings and the Z4 certainly does that. I have no idea how BMW consistently just make their cars feel so…right.  It’s something in the suspension geometry, in the driving position and their rear wheel drive DNA that just makes the new Z4 compliant yet thrilling, red-bloodedly fun yet pointed.

The new model has somehow managed to improve ride comfort without sacrificing grip. Sitting low-slung, right out over the back axle with that bonnet seeming to curve into infinity, you get that real go-kart feeling.

Like all new Beemers, especially these estate agent roadsters, it will divide opinion on whether men can be taken seriously in one, but when that glorious straight 6 or the mental 3.5 twin turbo kicks into life, you’ll find yourself not really caring what anyone else thinks.  It’s a manly car designed by women that women will buy and men will secretly covet. Oh, the tangled webs we weave.

More info here:  http://www.bmw.co.za/campaigns/z4/

Gavin Williams

The new Polo. It’s nice, you should buy one.

Ciro De Siena