This morning we had to go out for a lovely journey to the physio for SWMBO broken (now healing) ankle. As this was a not business trip, I would normally have used the MR2, but SWMBO finds it awkward to get in and out of with the dicky ankle, so took the Fabia instead. Once out of the physio, SWMBO procaimed that it would be nice to take a drive out and see some scenery. No persuation needed on my part, we took the roads north from Chelmsford to visit the fun roads around Finchingfield and the north end of Essex.

I have been using the MR2 for entertainment driving for the last few months, rain or shine, so today was a nice reminder of why the Fabia vRS is fun. The surfaces everywhere were appalling. A subtle blend of mud, leaves and drizzle conspired to keep the TC light flickering on into 5th gear in many faster corners. It was here on these fast B roads that the Fabia reminded me of how much fun it can be.

I enjoyed the low rev shove, relaxed gait, the ability to use the torque to feel out the grip and judge just how much can be had on the treacherous surfaces, the traction control allowing a fair bit of slip so that it only intervenes if you are overdoing it to the point of losing speed. I enjoyed the fluid way that the car can be coaxed to flow down these sort of B roads, sometimes into 3 figures, while still remaining composed and comfortable. I enjoyed the way its limits are so easily exploited, its intentions so easy to predict. I enjoyed the way it is not a hard core hot hatch, its softness and suppleness translating into staying in contact with the road while keeping off the bump stops on the worst of the compressions. I enjoyed the sheer speed it was possible to carry. The car and I were in our element today and it just reminded me of why I bought it in the first place.

The MR2 would have been fun in a white knuckle, twitching rear end (the cars and mine) kind of way, but on todays roads, the Fabia was just as much fun as a result of the speed carried and probably a fair bit faster A to B. Still loving it 50,000 miles and 12 months in.

Chris

A nice, well-written, easy-reading piece of literature!

Look out Mr. Clarkson, you may have some competition.