Cupra Leon

We all remember the cringe-worthy, fly-on-the-cheese and pineapple cocktail stick television associated with the struggles BMW had in deciding what to do with Rover; ‘The English Patient’ as the Bavarian doctors quickly christened it. But what, I wonder, would the haunted goldfish tank have made of the longer-term shenanigans associated with VAG group’s Spanish acquisition, Seat?

It wasn’t all that long ago that we were told by VAG, which had been struggling to find the right niche for the Spanish brand in its burgeoning portfolio of annexed aliens, that Seat was to represent the performance wing of the group.

Clearly, however, added branding impetus was required to realise this gently daft metamorphosis of Spain’s favourite biffabout, because shortly thereafter slightly swifter Seats badged Cupra began to appear with increasing frequency – the performance wing of the performance wing, then. So now, the arrival of Cupra as brand rather than mere badge constitutes VAG’s third stab at realising a Spanish performance arm wherein every model goes like a stabbed rat. Even if it means the coincidental disappearance of the Seat moniker altogether…

To add further confusion, the Seat name may have disappeared, but in this case the donor itself remains all too evident. We are promised a range of machines unique to the Cupra badge in the future, but meanwhile must settle for a Curpafied Leon.

Which, as it happens, is no bad thing. For starters, Seat’s Leon is a very good-looking car, and in Cupra couture -thanks to an enlarged grille, a lower stance and the 19” alloys in which this V2 trim level specimen is shod- contrives to appear leaner and meaner still.

On board, all that’s good about the Leon cabin also manages to largely outshine Cupra’s trademark bronze trimming to air vents, helm, gear lever and such. Unfortunately, though, because a Seat digital interior is no longer a generation behind that of a comparable VW, all that’s bad also puts in an appearance. So the joys of a snug hugging seat and delightful driving position are somewhat offset by the annoyance of touch-insensitive air-conditioning controls at the foot of the central infotainment screen…

Moreover, switching off the lane keeping assistant is the usual chore. Not in itself, but because once you’ve done so the screen in the instrument binnacle doesn’t automatically default back to your digital display of choice, so you must scroll through the options with at least four more stabs of the button before you find the rev counter ringing a digital speedo once more. And that’s just annoying.

What isn’t annoying at all is that the Cupra Leon shares most of its mechanicals with VW’s Golf GTi Clubsport. Which in this case equates to a 2.0 litre, four-cylinder turbo doling out 269 bhp and 295 lb ft of torque to the front wheels via the group’s perennially excellent seven-speed dual clutch transmission with flappy-paddle override, and a limited-slip differential. The Cupra’s 5.7 second 0.62 mph time is a tenth slower than that of the Clubsport, though, because the former is a lard sandwich heavier.

Steering is light, but somehow sharper and more feelsome than in the current crop of VWs, suggesting properly diligent front suspension tweaking by Cupra’s engineers. And the Macpherson strut front and multi-link rear suspension benefits from a multi-adjustable electronic damping system. Do we really need a choice of settings greater than the number of fingers on both hands?  I suppose for track day tweaking perhaps two or three might prove a diversion, but for road use the adjustments made on your behalf by drive mode selection are more than fit for purpose…

Indeed, so committed is this chassis to grip, agility and absence of understeer that I found myself double checking for all-wheel drive AWD. Turns out that’s only available on the estate, which is a tad more powerful, a deal more capacious and just as good looking.

Oh, and the Brembo brakes are mighty; more than enough feel and power to obviate the need for, or availability of, a carbon ceramic option.

Most significantly, torque steer really isn’t an issue here, unlike in so many other 300 bhp front-wheel drive offerings. So you can enjoy yourself with an undertow of inherent smoothness and a fluidity of progress all too often lacking in others, which have a tendency to tug you hither and thither like a toddler in a sweet shop at key moments under hard throttle applications.

Some might cite such smooth progress as evidence of a lack of driver involvement, but there’s genuine finesse in the way the Leon goes about its business, and a glimpse at the speedometer will inevitably find you travelling somewhat more rapidly than you’d expect from the information being fed to you by the rest of the car.

Sport mode – simply selected by helm-mounted drive select button- is ideal for road work. The Cupra setting toughening the undercarriage beyond what is seemly for our largely rubbish Mudfordshire road surfaces, the fun to be found therein is largely aural, because it sounds as if someone has opened the all windows in the engine room.

However, though the added exhaust rasp may be the real deal, dread augmentation rears its ugly (and increasingly ubiquitous) head again to effect the snap, crackle and pop of overrun. But it’s not as bad as the Cupra setting in the Formentor I drove, wherein the engine note not only sounds as if it’s coming through the car’s loudspeakers, but also suspiciously like that of a five-cylinder unit on song. That’ll be the five-pot not yet available in the UK, then….

Good thing, then, this Cupra Leon 300. Sufficiently good to make you suspect VAG is robbing Peter to pay Paul here; in as much as the group’s VW Golf GTi Clubsport stablemate is the Cupra’s nearest rival, yet more expensive, and somehow less pleasing to use.

Those who prefer a slightly lairier life behind the wheel might consider a Honda Civic Type R GT, but it does look like a bucket of smashed crabs and after driving it a respectable distance you might also consider a bit of a lie down. In the case of the Cupra Leon, neither issue applies. It’s really good, but not quite really good fun.