Don't make assumptions about the driver of that 1000bhp supercar

Don't make assumptions about the driver of that 1000bhp supercar

Whether you show off or shy away, driving a £1m exotic down the high street will invite judgement What came first: the noisy, brightly coloured supercar – or the reckless, narcissistic show-off you so often see at the wheel of one? A road tester may be in a uniquely fair position to address that. I’m lucky enough to drive plenty of fast, loud, exotic cars in my regular line of work, but not because I’ve spent a perspective-eroding sum to own any of them. I have no interest to declare. I frequently have been, am and will continue to be both tutting bystander and tutted-at offender. More often, probably, the former. How often have you been at a car show, event or club meet and seen a supercar that you’re inexorably drawn towards a short time before it is driven in a way that makes you roll your eyes? Well, let’s consider the case for the defence. The next time you tut, ponder for a moment if your own expectations may be a factor. Modern supercars are, I assure you, dramatic, attention-grabbing cars. Wherever you drive one, take one, park one, or just stand next to one in a manner suggestive of ownership, you are fair game. You are an attraction. You have invited the gaze of the public. Eleven-year-olds at bus stops wave their arms and shout: “Rev it!” People ask to take photos, to see inside. They want to know what it’s like. Of course they do. I usually retreat to a discreet distance and admit at the earliest opportunity that “it’s borrowed”, because I don’t like the glare that these cars create – much less the idea that someone might assume I’d intended to bathe in it. Whatever you do, though, you can’t really escape it; and clearly, for some, the water’s lovely and they’re very happy to get carried away by it. Also, when driving a supercar, you might be surprised just how hard you need to work in order not to conform to the stereotype. That sounds like the ultimate cop-out. But when there’s 800 horsepower under your toe, a very ordinary prod of the accelerator can easily cue up an angry downshift, a loud flare of revs, and rather more forward thrust than you intended. But while the dynamic mission of a supercar can be a contributing factor in all of this, the very image of one can in fact corrupt perceptions all by itself. I once took a Ferrari SF90 Spider to a certain popular ‘cars and coffee’ venue in the English Midlands. The one where a mantra is displayed opposite the car park exit to remind visitors to leave considerately – in amusingly anatomical terms. Well, I can assure you, I did. And yet, because I was driving a yellow Ferrari , whoever was running the social media feed for the aforementioned venue on the day in question used a photo of the car next to the ‘Don’t Be A Dick’ sign, to imply that its owner hadn’t been so responsible. Comments were soon made to confirm how quickly I’d driven away and how others should be more careful. As it happened, my young daughter, who had ridden in another car on our outbound journey, was with me in the Ferrari on that return leg. She had been a bit nervous of the car, so I’d spent a while reassuring her that all would be well, that cars are just cars and needn’t be scary. I vividly remember tiptoeing out of the gate and down the road as gingerly as I could. I think the SF90 was in electric mode, so no yobby V8 noise at all. But it didn’t matter a jot. People simply saw – or, rather, remembered – exactly what suited them. How many of those same people might have thronged and cheered at the start line of the Goodwood hill a few months ago, I wonder. And how many would be willing to consider the idea that, if they didn’t lavish so much attention on supercars wherever they’re found, the drivers of those supercars might not so often ‘revert to type’?

Don't make assumptions about the driver of that 1000bhp supercar

Don't make assumptions about the driver of that 1000bhp supercar

Whether you show off or shy away, driving a £1m exotic down the high street will invite judgement What came first: the noisy, brightly coloured supercar – or the reckless, narcissistic show-off you so often see at the wheel of one? A road tester may be in a uniquely fair position to address that. I’m lucky enough to drive plenty of fast, loud, exotic cars in my regular line of work, but not because I’ve spent a perspective-eroding sum to own any of them. I have no interest to declare. I frequently have been, am and will continue to be both tutting bystander and tutted-at offender. More often, probably, the former. How often have you been at a car show, event or club meet and seen a supercar that you’re inexorably drawn towards a short time before it is driven in a way that makes you roll your eyes? Well, let’s consider the case for the defence. The next time you tut, ponder for a moment if your own expectations may be a factor. Modern supercars are, I assure you, dramatic, attention-grabbing cars. Wherever you drive one, take one, park one, or just stand next to one in a manner suggestive of ownership, you are fair game. You are an attraction. You have invited the gaze of the public. Eleven-year-olds at bus stops wave their arms and shout: “Rev it!” People ask to take photos, to see inside. They want to know what it’s like. Of course they do. I usually retreat to a discreet distance and admit at the earliest opportunity that “it’s borrowed”, because I don’t like the glare that these cars create – much less the idea that someone might assume I’d intended to bathe in it. Whatever you do, though, you can’t really escape it; and clearly, for some, the water’s lovely and they’re very happy to get carried away by it. Also, when driving a supercar, you might be surprised just how hard you need to work in order not to conform to the stereotype. That sounds like the ultimate cop-out. But when there’s 800 horsepower under your toe, a very ordinary prod of the accelerator can easily cue up an angry downshift, a loud flare of revs, and rather more forward thrust than you intended. But while the dynamic mission of a supercar can be a contributing factor in all of this, the very image of one can in fact corrupt perceptions all by itself. I once took a Ferrari SF90 Spider to a certain popular ‘cars and coffee’ venue in the English Midlands. The one where a mantra is displayed opposite the car park exit to remind visitors to leave considerately – in amusingly anatomical terms. Well, I can assure you, I did. And yet, because I was driving a yellow Ferrari , whoever was running the social media feed for the aforementioned venue on the day in question used a photo of the car next to the ‘Don’t Be A Dick’ sign, to imply that its owner hadn’t been so responsible. Comments were soon made to confirm how quickly I’d driven away and how others should be more careful. As it happened, my young daughter, who had ridden in another car on our outbound journey, was with me in the Ferrari on that return leg. She had been a bit nervous of the car, so I’d spent a while reassuring her that all would be well, that cars are just cars and needn’t be scary. I vividly remember tiptoeing out of the gate and down the road as gingerly as I could. I think the SF90 was in electric mode, so no yobby V8 noise at all. But it didn’t matter a jot. People simply saw – or, rather, remembered – exactly what suited them. How many of those same people might have thronged and cheered at the start line of the Goodwood hill a few months ago, I wonder. And how many would be willing to consider the idea that, if they didn’t lavish so much attention on supercars wherever they’re found, the drivers of those supercars might not so often ‘revert to type’?

Don't make assumptions about the driver of that 1000bhp supercar

Don't make assumptions about the driver of that 1000bhp supercar

Whether you show off or shy away, driving a £1m exotic down the high street will invite judgement What came first: the noisy, brightly coloured supercar – or the reckless, narcissistic show-off you so often see at the wheel of one? A road tester may be in a uniquely fair position to address that. I’m lucky enough to drive plenty of fast, loud, exotic cars in my regular line of work, but not because I’ve spent a perspective-eroding sum to own any of them. I have no interest to declare. I frequently have been, am and will continue to be both tutting bystander and tutted-at offender. More often, probably, the former. How often have you been at a car show, event or club meet and seen a supercar that you’re inexorably drawn towards a short time before it is driven in a way that makes you roll your eyes? Well, let’s consider the case for the defence. The next time you tut, ponder for a moment if your own expectations may be a factor. Modern supercars are, I assure you, dramatic, attention-grabbing cars. Wherever you drive one, take one, park one, or just stand next to one in a manner suggestive of ownership, you are fair game. You are an attraction. You have invited the gaze of the public. Eleven-year-olds at bus stops wave their arms and shout: “Rev it!” People ask to take photos, to see inside. They want to know what it’s like. Of course they do. I usually retreat to a discreet distance and admit at the earliest opportunity that “it’s borrowed”, because I don’t like the glare that these cars create – much less the idea that someone might assume I’d intended to bathe in it. Whatever you do, though, you can’t really escape it; and clearly, for some, the water’s lovely and they’re very happy to get carried away by it. Also, when driving a supercar, you might be surprised just how hard you need to work in order not to conform to the stereotype. That sounds like the ultimate cop-out. But when there’s 800 horsepower under your toe, a very ordinary prod of the accelerator can easily cue up an angry downshift, a loud flare of revs, and rather more forward thrust than you intended. But while the dynamic mission of a supercar can be a contributing factor in all of this, the very image of one can in fact corrupt perceptions all by itself. I once took a Ferrari SF90 Spider to a certain popular ‘cars and coffee’ venue in the English Midlands. The one where a mantra is displayed opposite the car park exit to remind visitors to leave considerately – in amusingly anatomical terms. Well, I can assure you, I did. And yet, because I was driving a yellow Ferrari , whoever was running the social media feed for the aforementioned venue on the day in question used a photo of the car next to the ‘Don’t Be A Dick’ sign, to imply that its owner hadn’t been so responsible. Comments were soon made to confirm how quickly I’d driven away and how others should be more careful. As it happened, my young daughter, who had ridden in another car on our outbound journey, was with me in the Ferrari on that return leg. She had been a bit nervous of the car, so I’d spent a while reassuring her that all would be well, that cars are just cars and needn’t be scary. I vividly remember tiptoeing out of the gate and down the road as gingerly as I could. I think the SF90 was in electric mode, so no yobby V8 noise at all. But it didn’t matter a jot. People simply saw – or, rather, remembered – exactly what suited them. How many of those same people might have thronged and cheered at the start line of the Goodwood hill a few months ago, I wonder. And how many would be willing to consider the idea that, if they didn’t lavish so much attention on supercars wherever they’re found, the drivers of those supercars might not so often ‘revert to type’?

Don't make assumptions about the driver of that 1000bhp supercar

Don't make assumptions about the driver of that 1000bhp supercar

Whether you show off or shy away, driving a £1m exotic down the high street will invite judgement What came first: the noisy, brightly coloured supercar – or the reckless, narcissistic show-off you so often see at the wheel of one? A road tester may be in a uniquely fair position to address that. I’m lucky enough to drive plenty of fast, loud, exotic cars in my regular line of work, but not because I’ve spent a perspective-eroding sum to own any of them. I have no interest to declare. I frequently have been, am and will continue to be both tutting bystander and tutted-at offender. More often, probably, the former. How often have you been at a car show, event or club meet and seen a supercar that you’re inexorably drawn towards a short time before it is driven in a way that makes you roll your eyes? Well, let’s consider the case for the defence. The next time you tut, ponder for a moment if your own expectations may be a factor. Modern supercars are, I assure you, dramatic, attention-grabbing cars. Wherever you drive one, take one, park one, or just stand next to one in a manner suggestive of ownership, you are fair game. You are an attraction. You have invited the gaze of the public. Eleven-year-olds at bus stops wave their arms and shout: “Rev it!” People ask to take photos, to see inside. They want to know what it’s like. Of course they do. I usually retreat to a discreet distance and admit at the earliest opportunity that “it’s borrowed”, because I don’t like the glare that these cars create – much less the idea that someone might assume I’d intended to bathe in it. Whatever you do, though, you can’t really escape it; and clearly, for some, the water’s lovely and they’re very happy to get carried away by it. Also, when driving a supercar, you might be surprised just how hard you need to work in order not to conform to the stereotype. That sounds like the ultimate cop-out. But when there’s 800 horsepower under your toe, a very ordinary prod of the accelerator can easily cue up an angry downshift, a loud flare of revs, and rather more forward thrust than you intended. But while the dynamic mission of a supercar can be a contributing factor in all of this, the very image of one can in fact corrupt perceptions all by itself. I once took a Ferrari SF90 Spider to a certain popular ‘cars and coffee’ venue in the English Midlands. The one where a mantra is displayed opposite the car park exit to remind visitors to leave considerately – in amusingly anatomical terms. Well, I can assure you, I did. And yet, because I was driving a yellow Ferrari , whoever was running the social media feed for the aforementioned venue on the day in question used a photo of the car next to the ‘Don’t Be A Dick’ sign, to imply that its owner hadn’t been so responsible. Comments were soon made to confirm how quickly I’d driven away and how others should be more careful. As it happened, my young daughter, who had ridden in another car on our outbound journey, was with me in the Ferrari on that return leg. She had been a bit nervous of the car, so I’d spent a while reassuring her that all would be well, that cars are just cars and needn’t be scary. I vividly remember tiptoeing out of the gate and down the road as gingerly as I could. I think the SF90 was in electric mode, so no yobby V8 noise at all. But it didn’t matter a jot. People simply saw – or, rather, remembered – exactly what suited them. How many of those same people might have thronged and cheered at the start line of the Goodwood hill a few months ago, I wonder. And how many would be willing to consider the idea that, if they didn’t lavish so much attention on supercars wherever they’re found, the drivers of those supercars might not so often ‘revert to type’?

Time to buy a Hyundai Coupe? £1k wonder could be a classic

Time to buy a Hyundai Coupe? £1k wonder could be a classic

Lesser-spotted two-door has baby Ferrari looks and a V6 that sounds the part - it's well worth a look There are not many Hyundais that you can call classics. The original 1975 Pony, perhaps, simply because it was the company’s first in-house-created car, with help from one Giorgetto Giugiaro (before that, Hyundai made Ford Cortinas), and… well, when you start thinking about it, you’ll struggle. Its early cars were the progeny of a newbie car company experiencing growing pains, most of them low-priced, it’s-all-about-the-deal machines. They gradually got better, of course, but once its cars turned genuinely competitive, few were the kind you’d get nostalgic about unless you fancy the retro irony of the chrome-grilled XG30 saloon or the odd-door weirdness of the Veloster coupé . There were other coupés, including the low-budget, impressively merit-free S Coupe, this eventually evolving into a car that was worth a second look, possibly a third and maybe even a get-the-cheque-book-out moment. That car was the 2002 Coupe that many scribbling critics, this one included, reckoned looked a little like the Ferrari 456 GT . It kind of still does, partly because of the L-shaped go-faster crease indenting its flanks, partly because it shares much the same proportions. It was also handsome, still is in a quiet way, and unusually for a Hyundai had wheels positioned in the right place relative to its wheel-arch lips. There were no jarring style flourishes, either. The good news continued when you climbed inside. There was plenty of room up front, more than you might expect from the 2+2 rear, a big boot and a dashboard of sculptural and decorative interest. Highlights here included the jutting nozzles of its centre air-vents, the plastiminium decor of a centre console flaunting a trio of dials and a crisply presented instrument array complete with LCD digital readout. Such sophistication. And there was more, the ultimate version powered by a V6 of 163bhp and 182lb ft of torque – sufficient to nail a 0-62mph dash in 8.2sec. Making Hyundai’s most glamorous more affordable were 1.6-litre and 2.0-litre fours. This was a package with far more showroom appeal than any previous Hyundai fastback and, better still, it tackled corners with an aplomb tidy enough to remind you that you were aboard something sporting. The deftness of a Ford Puma wasn’t quite there – the Coupe’s steering was woolier too – but this was a Hyundai that a driver could actually have some fun in, and not for lightly incompetent, XG30-like reasons. Downsides? There were a few. None of the engines, even the V6, provided an especially pleasant aural accompaniment, the style of their power delivery closer to the industrial generator end of the spectrum rather than rortily tuneful race engine. They were thirsty too, 1.6 included, while the V6 could guzzle a gallon in under 20 miles if you were profligate with the throttle. That wasn’t enough to deter British buyers, however, who turned this Coupe into a minor-league hit. The UK bought more than any country in Europe, and was part-responsible for prolonging the model’s life, Hyundai obliging with an assortment of updates and limited editions. There was a mild refresh five years into its life, mostly cosmetic, and a more substantial upgrade came two years later that saw the faux front wing vents eliminated and the headlights swept rearwards into the front wings. This model was badged SIII. The final TSIII version, conjured especially for the UK, featured quilted leather seats, quad exhausts, stiffer suspension, anthracite alloys and an elevated rear spoiler. This final limited edition followed the Atlantic special edition and a V6 version in yellow that proved a harder sell than ice cream in a blizzard. So it’ll be cheap now, if you can find one. Like so many coupés, this Hyundai looks like yesterday’s wanted object, largely unwanted today. But it’s a mild tempter as a set of cheap wheels – you need a grand for a smoker, while £3000 gets you the very best – and it’s a car that will, surely, make it to the classic car status that so few Hyundais have achieved in the past.

Time to buy a Hyundai Coupe? £1k wonder could be a classic

Time to buy a Hyundai Coupe? £1k wonder could be a classic

Lesser-spotted two-door has baby Ferrari looks and a V6 that sounds the part - it's well worth a look There are not many Hyundais that you can call classics. The original 1975 Pony, perhaps, simply because it was the company’s first in-house-created car, with help from one Giorgetto Giugiaro (before that, Hyundai made Ford Cortinas), and… well, when you start thinking about it, you’ll struggle. Its early cars were the progeny of a newbie car company experiencing growing pains, most of them low-priced, it’s-all-about-the-deal machines. They gradually got better, of course, but once its cars turned genuinely competitive, few were the kind you’d get nostalgic about unless you fancy the retro irony of the chrome-grilled XG30 saloon or the odd-door weirdness of the Veloster coupé . There were other coupés, including the low-budget, impressively merit-free S Coupe, this eventually evolving into a car that was worth a second look, possibly a third and maybe even a get-the-cheque-book-out moment. That car was the 2002 Coupe that many scribbling critics, this one included, reckoned looked a little like the Ferrari 456 GT . It kind of still does, partly because of the L-shaped go-faster crease indenting its flanks, partly because it shares much the same proportions. It was also handsome, still is in a quiet way, and unusually for a Hyundai had wheels positioned in the right place relative to its wheel-arch lips. There were no jarring style flourishes, either. The good news continued when you climbed inside. There was plenty of room up front, more than you might expect from the 2+2 rear, a big boot and a dashboard of sculptural and decorative interest. Highlights here included the jutting nozzles of its centre air-vents, the plastiminium decor of a centre console flaunting a trio of dials and a crisply presented instrument array complete with LCD digital readout. Such sophistication. And there was more, the ultimate version powered by a V6 of 163bhp and 182lb ft of torque – sufficient to nail a 0-62mph dash in 8.2sec. Making Hyundai’s most glamorous more affordable were 1.6-litre and 2.0-litre fours. This was a package with far more showroom appeal than any previous Hyundai fastback and, better still, it tackled corners with an aplomb tidy enough to remind you that you were aboard something sporting. The deftness of a Ford Puma wasn’t quite there – the Coupe’s steering was woolier too – but this was a Hyundai that a driver could actually have some fun in, and not for lightly incompetent, XG30-like reasons. Downsides? There were a few. None of the engines, even the V6, provided an especially pleasant aural accompaniment, the style of their power delivery closer to the industrial generator end of the spectrum rather than rortily tuneful race engine. They were thirsty too, 1.6 included, while the V6 could guzzle a gallon in under 20 miles if you were profligate with the throttle. That wasn’t enough to deter British buyers, however, who turned this Coupe into a minor-league hit. The UK bought more than any country in Europe, and was part-responsible for prolonging the model’s life, Hyundai obliging with an assortment of updates and limited editions. There was a mild refresh five years into its life, mostly cosmetic, and a more substantial upgrade came two years later that saw the faux front wing vents eliminated and the headlights swept rearwards into the front wings. This model was badged SIII. The final TSIII version, conjured especially for the UK, featured quilted leather seats, quad exhausts, stiffer suspension, anthracite alloys and an elevated rear spoiler. This final limited edition followed the Atlantic special edition and a V6 version in yellow that proved a harder sell than ice cream in a blizzard. So it’ll be cheap now, if you can find one. Like so many coupés, this Hyundai looks like yesterday’s wanted object, largely unwanted today. But it’s a mild tempter as a set of cheap wheels – you need a grand for a smoker, while £3000 gets you the very best – and it’s a car that will, surely, make it to the classic car status that so few Hyundais have achieved in the past.

Time to buy a Hyundai Coupe? £1k wonder could be a classic

Time to buy a Hyundai Coupe? £1k wonder could be a classic

Lesser-spotted two-door has baby Ferrari looks and a V6 that sounds the part - it's well worth a look There are not many Hyundais that you can call classics. The original 1975 Pony, perhaps, simply because it was the company’s first in-house-created car, with help from one Giorgetto Giugiaro (before that, Hyundai made Ford Cortinas), and… well, when you start thinking about it, you’ll struggle. Its early cars were the progeny of a newbie car company experiencing growing pains, most of them low-priced, it’s-all-about-the-deal machines. They gradually got better, of course, but once its cars turned genuinely competitive, few were the kind you’d get nostalgic about unless you fancy the retro irony of the chrome-grilled XG30 saloon or the odd-door weirdness of the Veloster coupé . There were other coupés, including the low-budget, impressively merit-free S Coupe, this eventually evolving into a car that was worth a second look, possibly a third and maybe even a get-the-cheque-book-out moment. That car was the 2002 Coupe that many scribbling critics, this one included, reckoned looked a little like the Ferrari 456 GT . It kind of still does, partly because of the L-shaped go-faster crease indenting its flanks, partly because it shares much the same proportions. It was also handsome, still is in a quiet way, and unusually for a Hyundai had wheels positioned in the right place relative to its wheel-arch lips. There were no jarring style flourishes, either. The good news continued when you climbed inside. There was plenty of room up front, more than you might expect from the 2+2 rear, a big boot and a dashboard of sculptural and decorative interest. Highlights here included the jutting nozzles of its centre air-vents, the plastiminium decor of a centre console flaunting a trio of dials and a crisply presented instrument array complete with LCD digital readout. Such sophistication. And there was more, the ultimate version powered by a V6 of 163bhp and 182lb ft of torque – sufficient to nail a 0-62mph dash in 8.2sec. Making Hyundai’s most glamorous more affordable were 1.6-litre and 2.0-litre fours. This was a package with far more showroom appeal than any previous Hyundai fastback and, better still, it tackled corners with an aplomb tidy enough to remind you that you were aboard something sporting. The deftness of a Ford Puma wasn’t quite there – the Coupe’s steering was woolier too – but this was a Hyundai that a driver could actually have some fun in, and not for lightly incompetent, XG30-like reasons. Downsides? There were a few. None of the engines, even the V6, provided an especially pleasant aural accompaniment, the style of their power delivery closer to the industrial generator end of the spectrum rather than rortily tuneful race engine. They were thirsty too, 1.6 included, while the V6 could guzzle a gallon in under 20 miles if you were profligate with the throttle. That wasn’t enough to deter British buyers, however, who turned this Coupe into a minor-league hit. The UK bought more than any country in Europe, and was part-responsible for prolonging the model’s life, Hyundai obliging with an assortment of updates and limited editions. There was a mild refresh five years into its life, mostly cosmetic, and a more substantial upgrade came two years later that saw the faux front wing vents eliminated and the headlights swept rearwards into the front wings. This model was badged SIII. The final TSIII version, conjured especially for the UK, featured quilted leather seats, quad exhausts, stiffer suspension, anthracite alloys and an elevated rear spoiler. This final limited edition followed the Atlantic special edition and a V6 version in yellow that proved a harder sell than ice cream in a blizzard. So it’ll be cheap now, if you can find one. Like so many coupés, this Hyundai looks like yesterday’s wanted object, largely unwanted today. But it’s a mild tempter as a set of cheap wheels – you need a grand for a smoker, while £3000 gets you the very best – and it’s a car that will, surely, make it to the classic car status that so few Hyundais have achieved in the past.

New BMW i3 promises 'sheer driving pleasure' and 500-mile range

New BMW i3 promises 'sheer driving pleasure' and 500-mile range

First electric 3 Series lands next year with more than 500 miles of range and charging up to 400kW The crucial new BMW i3 will arrive next year as the first fully electric member of the 3 Series family, bringing a range of more than 500 miles – and company boss Oliver Zipse has promised that it will deliver “sheer driving pleasure”. With similar styling to that of the Vision Neue Klasse concept first shown in 2023, the new i3 will be the first saloon in the Munich firm’s revamped Neue Klasse family. It will sit on the same new bespoke electric Gen6 platform as the recently revealed iX3 SUV . BMW is gearing up to refresh its entire line-up with 40 new EVs and heavily updated combustion cars, which all share the Neue Klasse look and are due by the end of 2027. While the X3 SUV is now BMW’s best-seller, the 3 Series saloon remains the cornerstone of the brand – and this will be the first time an electric version has been offered. BMW has sold the similar-sized i4 four-door coupé since 2021, but it chose to wait until EV technology could deliver a closer match to combustion models before launching a battery-powered 3 Series. While the i3 will be new, it will face some familiar rivals, with a Mercedes-Benz C-Class EV set to be launched next year and an Audi A4 EV in development. But the i3 will also be key to taking on newer rivals such as Tesla and Chinese premium brands including Xpeng and BYD's Denza . The i3 will be offered with a variety of power outputs – including a hot electric M3 – and the launch model is set to be a 50 xDrive, as with the iX3. It is likely to offer the same 464bhp and 479lb ft from a dual-motor set-up as the iX3, with power drawn from a 108kWh nickel manganese-cobalt battery. That system gives the SUV a range of 500 miles, so the more aerodynamic shape of the saloon will potentially make it the longest-range EV on sale in the UK – and should give it an edge over the C-Class EV, which, Autocar understands, will offer a 497-mile range when it arrives next year. The Gen6 platform employed by the i3 features an 800V architecture, allowing for charging speeds of up to 400kW. The i3 will be joined by a heavily updated version of the petrol-engined 3 Series, which will remain on the unrelated CLAR architecture but will receive a makeover with the Neue Klasse design language and the latest in-car technology. The Vision Neue Klasse saloon concept previewed how the upcoming EV and ICE 3 Series will look, with a distinctly different interpretation of BMW’s kidney grille that is also destined for the iX3 and future SUVs. The camouflaged i3 prototype shown recently confirms that the EV will retain the typical 3 Series body shape, with smoother lines and BMW’s signature Hofmeister kink employed for the C-pillar. Inside, the i3 will feature BMW’s new Panoramic iDrive system, seen in the iX3, which mates an angled touchscreen with a projected head-up display that runs the length of the front windscreen. The company claims that this system enables key data to be displayed closer to the driver’s eyeline. Given the importance of driving dynamics to BMW, the firm’s engineers have put a major focus on attempting to ensure the i3 can match the petrol 3 Series models when it comes to ride and handling. Key to that is the new centralised computing architecture, which is built around a greatly reduced number of processing chips. The set-up includes the ‘Heart of Joy’ system, which unites all of the driving experience controls to enable faster and more intuitive reactions. The system also essentially merges the braking and energy recuperation systems, automatically adjusting between them to offer maximum stopping power. BMW claims that 98% of retardation can be done using the energy regen system. While BMW has not given official details about the full i3 line-up, BMW Group design chief Adrian van Hooydonk has confirmed that a Touring estate version will follow, along with a range of powertrain options. After that, the first electric M3 is due in 2028 and prototype versions have already been seen testing. While it will adopt the same Heart of Joy control system, M boss Frank van Meel has previously confirmed to Autocar that it will use bespoke electric powertrain and battery components. These will be based on standard BMW components but heavily developed by the M performance division. The electric M3 is expected to adopt a quad-motor set-up that could make it the most powerful M model yet, using advanced torque vectoring enabled by the new software architecture for control. While the i3 is new, the model name was previously used for a pioneering and radically styled hatch, which was sold in rangeextender and pure-EV forms from 2013 until 2022.

New BMW i3 promises 'sheer driving pleasure' and 500-mile range

New BMW i3 promises 'sheer driving pleasure' and 500-mile range

First electric 3 Series lands next year with more than 500 miles of range and charging up to 400kW The crucial new BMW i3 will arrive next year as the first fully electric member of the 3 Series family, bringing a range of more than 500 miles – and company boss Oliver Zipse has promised that it will deliver “sheer driving pleasure”. With similar styling to that of the Vision Neue Klasse concept first shown in 2023, the new i3 will be the first saloon in the Munich firm’s revamped Neue Klasse family. It will sit on the same new bespoke electric Gen6 platform as the recently revealed iX3 SUV . BMW is gearing up to refresh its entire line-up with 40 new EVs and heavily updated combustion cars, which all share the Neue Klasse look and are due by the end of 2027. While the X3 SUV is now BMW’s best-seller, the 3 Series saloon remains the cornerstone of the brand – and this will be the first time an electric version has been offered. BMW has sold the similar-sized i4 four-door coupé since 2021, but it chose to wait until EV technology could deliver a closer match to combustion models before launching a battery-powered 3 Series. While the i3 will be new, it will face some familiar rivals, with a Mercedes-Benz C-Class EV set to be launched next year and an Audi A4 EV in development. But the i3 will also be key to taking on newer rivals such as Tesla and Chinese premium brands including Xpeng and BYD's Denza . The i3 will be offered with a variety of power outputs – including a hot electric M3 – and the launch model is set to be a 50 xDrive, as with the iX3. It is likely to offer the same 464bhp and 479lb ft from a dual-motor set-up as the iX3, with power drawn from a 108kWh nickel manganese-cobalt battery. That system gives the SUV a range of 500 miles, so the more aerodynamic shape of the saloon will potentially make it the longest-range EV on sale in the UK – and should give it an edge over the C-Class EV, which, Autocar understands, will offer a 497-mile range when it arrives next year. The Gen6 platform employed by the i3 features an 800V architecture, allowing for charging speeds of up to 400kW. The i3 will be joined by a heavily updated version of the petrol-engined 3 Series, which will remain on the unrelated CLAR architecture but will receive a makeover with the Neue Klasse design language and the latest in-car technology. The Vision Neue Klasse saloon concept previewed how the upcoming EV and ICE 3 Series will look, with a distinctly different interpretation of BMW’s kidney grille that is also destined for the iX3 and future SUVs. The camouflaged i3 prototype shown recently confirms that the EV will retain the typical 3 Series body shape, with smoother lines and BMW’s signature Hofmeister kink employed for the C-pillar. Inside, the i3 will feature BMW’s new Panoramic iDrive system, seen in the iX3, which mates an angled touchscreen with a projected head-up display that runs the length of the front windscreen. The company claims that this system enables key data to be displayed closer to the driver’s eyeline. Given the importance of driving dynamics to BMW, the firm’s engineers have put a major focus on attempting to ensure the i3 can match the petrol 3 Series models when it comes to ride and handling. Key to that is the new centralised computing architecture, which is built around a greatly reduced number of processing chips. The set-up includes the ‘Heart of Joy’ system, which unites all of the driving experience controls to enable faster and more intuitive reactions. The system also essentially merges the braking and energy recuperation systems, automatically adjusting between them to offer maximum stopping power. BMW claims that 98% of retardation can be done using the energy regen system. While BMW has not given official details about the full i3 line-up, BMW Group design chief Adrian van Hooydonk has confirmed that a Touring estate version will follow, along with a range of powertrain options. After that, the first electric M3 is due in 2028 and prototype versions have already been seen testing. While it will adopt the same Heart of Joy control system, M boss Frank van Meel has previously confirmed to Autocar that it will use bespoke electric powertrain and battery components. These will be based on standard BMW components but heavily developed by the M performance division. The electric M3 is expected to adopt a quad-motor set-up that could make it the most powerful M model yet, using advanced torque vectoring enabled by the new software architecture for control. While the i3 is new, the model name was previously used for a pioneering and radically styled hatch, which was sold in rangeextender and pure-EV forms from 2013 until 2022.