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)

Step 1:

Have a major manufacturer withdraw it’s works support.

Step 2:

Have a Portsmouth FC-like uncertainty surrounding your future while throwing around words like “uncertainty”, “future” and “interested consortium” all bloody winter.

Step 3:

A miraculous buy-out occurs by former employees of the works team.  General backslapping and spirited press statements ensue.

Step 4:

Unveil your sponsorless car sporting a liberal interpretation of the rules with two drivers looking apprehensive and slightly sheepish.

Step 5:

Absolutely confound everyone by setting very quick times in pre-season testing even though you arrived late in a caravan.

Step 6:

Win Championship.

Step 7:

Lose egotistical world champion driver who believes it was his sheer pace that brought home the title.

Step 8:

Get bought out by the world’s greatest car manufacturer or something.

Last week at Jerez, a sponsorless Sauber (BMW) driven by Kamui Kobayashi topped the timing charts consistently.

Phone your bookies.

Ta-da, there it is! The crowd goes absolutely ballistic.

Gavin Williams

That's what he thought of your offer, Toyota.

This morning’s headline came as a bit of a shock to me. We all knew that the Japanese car industry was in trouble when giants Honda pulled out of F1 and Subaru pulled out of WRC. Colin Mcrae must have 360′d in his resting place.

But a goliath like Toyota pulling out of F1 is just massive. Over the next few days be sure to expect everyone with a slightly dim view of the sport trumpeting its demise. But on closer inspection, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. With a budget of £300m a year, Toyota participated in 139 races without a win. They did nab 13 podiums, but then again, so has Vettel, almost, and he’s 16 or something.

The thing is, Toyota, like Honda, failed to realise that F1 isn’t about the goliaths. It’s not about smart suits sitting in a boardroom in Tokyo making decisions about a tyre choice at Interlagos. F1 rewards teams that think on their feet and make the best decisions under the circumstances.

Better days.

Just look at Brawn this season; that team used to be Honda and also used to have 10 times the budget. (And if anyone is about to throw Ferrari at me, let’s just remember that how small that operation started out; Enzo made road cars so that he could fund his racing team. Ferrari and F1 grew up together.)

So perhaps BMW, Toyota and Honda leaving F1 is not a bad thing in the long run. Let’s see more smaller teams on the grid, gritting their teeth threw the tight budgets and tough decisions. Hell, maybe the actual on-track antics of the sport will become more exciting. No more light shows in the deserts, Bernie.

Ciro De Siena