Mr. Choi's question threw me. Would I like to drive the TVR Tuscan around for the day? Me? Drive the Tuscan? The blue Tuscan? The 120 thousand-dollar Tuscan? The 0-100km in 4.5 second Tuscan that would spit an inexperienced driver into the scenery given the chance?
Any comparative, no matter how witty, would have been adequate to convey how much I wanted to. I nodded, afraid my voice would betray my nervousness. Mr Choi threw me the keys and I walked, with great trepidation, toward the beautiful TVR.
There were just a couple of things that worried me as I ambled across the courtyard. One was the fact that I'd never driven a supercar before. Loved them at a distance proportionate to the folding in my wallet (a long way, trust me!!) but never been able to even sit in one.
The closest I came was at an Aston Martin dealership where I was about insert my arse into a DB7 Zagato when a salesman leapt out of the shadows to tell me that "that one is sold".
Another worry was the beer that Mr. Choi threw me from the esky 20 minutes earlier. If Mr. Choi isn’t worried about the beer, neither am I.
The 360 horsepower lurking under the Tuscan's beautifully sculptured shark-like nose however, still made me feel uneasy.
Looking over the Tuscan 30 minutes earlier was shocking. After seeing it in pictures for months before hand, the size of the car is what I can't now get over. It's so small I that don't think I will fit into it. So low, but so incredibly lithe and focused looking, like a bull-mastiff. All muscle, no fat. Not an inch wasted. A purposefully slippery shape that, thanks to it's easy to form glassfibre panels, looks organic, not manufactured.
From the Swiss cheese front grill, up the twin valley bonnet to the raked back windscreen, across the open T-top to the ovoid rear end, it just flows. The Tuscan looks like a form arrived at by millennia of natural elements working on a piece of rock to create a smooth, flowing shape. Walking around it soaking up the details, like the two bonnets (one to easily access and check fluids; the other, which needs to be unbolted, to view the engine) and the three front lights is fascinating. The spidery seven spoke 18inch wheels with the ultra low profile Pirelli 225/35ZR18 front and 255/35ZR18 rear tyres look sporting, yet elegant and set off the car perfectly.
As I arrive at the driver’s door, Mr. Choi is sitting in the passenger seat waiting for me to stop gawking and start driving. I urge him to be patient as I want to enjoy looking at it before I touch it.
I grab for the door handle. There isn't one. The door is perfectly smooth and devoid of any ornamentation, save the side rear view mirror which, after much laughing, Mr. Choi tells me is where the 'opening button' is.
I press the little rubber nipple and the solenoid thunks the door open. Nice. Ingress is easy, even for 190+cm tall people.
Once seated in the strangely shaped but incredibly comfortable and supportive seats, the view ahead is a true work of art. There are no dull plastics, no harsh surfaces. The interior is an extension of the smooth, sculpted outside. Everything is covered in leather and there are no tacky plastic switches or levers, just beautifully machined brass knobs and buttons.
Everything in the cockpit is incredibly tactile. There is a large crescent shape speedometer, also made of brass, reading to 200mph (This car is a grey import from the U.K) with a digital screen below which can display any number of functions including RPM and fluid temperatures.The steering wheel and the gearshift are my first points of contact, and the billet aluminium of the shift along with the fat suede wrapped non-airbag wheel gives me confidence that they'll transmit my inputs accurately. Nothing for it then except to start it up...
Prelude: I first met Mr. Choi in the flashy suburb of Kangnam in South Korea when I walked into his car showroom after seeing his display of 'car porn' from across the street.
I was an English teacher there for five years, so with Korea being desperately short of decent cars I was always on the lookout for eye candy to subdue my auto lust.
I waltzed in to Mr Choi's showroom and started a conversation in my shoddy Korean about the beautiful cars in the store. They had a handsome, and at the time new, dark blue Ferrari 550 and a red 355 Spyder that I took a particular fancy to along with a Porsche 911 C4 and a C6 Corvette. I then met the boss, Mr. Choi, who in typically generous Korean style listened to my grammatically incorrect questions and then replied in his own broken English, which then became our common language.
I told Mr. Choi about how stunning I thought the red 355 was. He agreed and went on to say that his Japanese business partner would be shipping over 25 cars to Korea for a car show at the Samsung Everland Amusement and motor sport park as a cross promotional gig next month. Would I like a ride in something special? Maybe as a passenger in the Ferrari 355 that I coveted? "That would be awesome" I say.
I then receive a call on a Wednesday night by an inebriated Mr. Choi asking me to come out to a pub with him and his friends. I politely decline. Mr. Choi then went on to say something in Korean about see you tomorrow at to drive the car at the show. I ask him to repeat what he said.
Dates and times were only vaguely alluded to in our first conversation (I half expected never to hear from Mr Choi again) so I call in sick the next day and jump on a bus heading south to Yongin.
I didn't expect to be piloting one of the most no nonsense, balls-out sports cars ever made. I had read a lot about the Tuscan and its zero tolerance for amateurs when driving hard. It is a small car with a big reputation. So with a contented looking Choi in the passengers seat (how many beers he’d had before I arrived, I don’t know) I turn the key and wait. The starter motor engages but the engine doesn’t fire. Mr. Choi tells me you have to pump the pedal like it’s an old-school carburettor-fed engine. I push the long travel floor hinged pedal and turn the key again. A second later the engine roars into life sounding more like a large capacity V8 than a 4 litre 6 cylinder.
I settle my nerves and slot first in the precise gearbox, push the go pedal and slowly let off the clutch. We are underway.
The route that we are taking is around the pine and spruce lined hills and valleys where the Samsung Amusement and Motorsports parks lay.
I've been here before, slowly ascending the hills in a school bus with 50 screaming Korean children. Not a nice way to experience such pretty countryside. The only screaming going on at the moment however, is that brutal straight-six rocketing a worried looking Mr. Choi and (an absolutely elated) me up through another tight hairpin and onto the ensuing straight.
Mr Choi's friend is in the lead car, an Audi TT keeping the pace.
Up and moving the car sounds and feels incredible. The in house designed and manufactured engine is an incredible accomplishment given the scale and resources of the tiny TVR Company. It sings a wonderful song, not as cultured as a BMW six but all the better for being wilder. It seems strong and a very willing performer. As I wind it through the rev range from 1800rpm in second the sound starts as a deep burble low down, onto a haunting mid range howl and then finally, a deafening lion's roar at the top end.
Max power of 360hp arrives at 7000rpm, which is quite high for a large capacity engine and the thrust is brutal with just 1200kg to push around. It flies. I slot third gear and the visceral feeling of speed becomes more intense. A look at the speedo shows we are passing 80. Remembering it’s an imperial measurement I back off, as the rump of the Audi TT we are following comes sharply into view ahead of the Tuscan’s sleek nose.
I slow and look to see Mr. Choi becoming shorter in the passenger seat. A few fast corners earlier he seemed an inch taller. I conclude his height increase is the result of intense buttock-clenching!!! I don’t blame him; the car belongs to a friend of his in Japan so it's a huge compliment that Mr Choi trusts this 24 year-old Aussie to drive it.
The Audi streaks off at the next straight and we follow at a more moderate, Mr. Choi pleasing pace; until the next few corners.
I squeeze the throttle to the floor in second exiting a tight right-hander, then slow for a tight left. The steering is very pointy and the front wheels latch onto the racing line right away, but the softly sprung rear-end unsettles as the weight transfers and a quick stab of corrective lock is required.
This shakes my faith in the car a little. I feel it should corner all of apiece like a true sports car, but it feels like the two ends of the car are disagreeing.
Next corner our entry is a little hotter and the tail swings quite wide. Scenes of fibreglass engaging in an energy transfer with stationary pine trees go through my head, but luckily the road is wide enough and after a left-right booty shake we continue forward. Mr. Choi suggests we slow a little. Heart in mouth, I agree.
We catch the Audi in front and make our way back to the Amusement park.
As we come to some tourist coaches stumbling up the hills, I give the TVR one final squirt and we flash by the buses in a blue streak of British power. I don’t think I can ever take the bus here again.
We finish up by doing a parade lap into the middle of the park passing the ‘Tiger Adventure Land’ where all eyes are on the Tuscan, and park along with a couple of other cars from the show.
As soon as I switch the engine off, I’m surrounded by excited kids and adults all wondering what the car is.
My body is shaking from the experience of driving such an intense car. It has been an unbelievable day.
As I sadly take the bus home after profusely thanking a relieved looking Mr. Choi, I'm still buzzing but can't help feel the poorer for experiencing something that I may never be able to afford.
I needn't worry. As I arrive home I'm still grinning and thinking about the drive, and end up doing so for the whole week.
Super cars are supposed to be feared and respected as much as they are admired. I understand this, but I also know that with TVR canvassing for a larger audience they need to make it more user friendly. The fact that more TVRs are being bought by 'super car virgins' suggests that the company needs to focus on creating a more cohesive car.
The front end is super pointy and has phenomenal race car like grip, but the rear is more subdued, sporting yes, but somewhat dislocated from what’s going on at the front.
Driving hard you sometimes feel like you are controlling two separate cars, which is very scary and not something you want to experience regularly which is a great shame, as I've never seen, or experienced, a more incredible car.
It's gorgeous inside and out, goes like a stabbed rat in a straight line and is achingly desirable. Everything about this hand made vehicle reeks of expertise in making fast, fabulous cars, but where you need confidence that the car will stick to the road, you get only a halfhearted promise of cohesion.
I would still have one though, just for the beauty and theatre that would be every drive.
And for the fact that it sucks any worries out of the driver and manifests itself in the passenger. Poor Mr. Choi.
