Estate agent provocateur: Skoda Superb SE L

It’s a golden rule of the motoring journalist that you have to write as you find, and report on anything, no matter how apparently minor (different things annoy different people). I don’t like to break the rules (that doesn’t sound so great, does it? Never mind).

So, I have to tell you now, in words I did not expect to write, that my Skoda wouldn’t start.

About a half century ago, when all I could afford was a communist-era rear-engined Skoda S100l, that wasn’t such an unusual experience. It wouldn’t continue to go, nor, more rarely, to stop either, for that matter.

It was the car they made many a joke about, such as, how do you keep your hands warm with a Skoda? By switching the heated rear window screen on when you’re pushing it home.

Actually, of course, the heated rear window screen didn’t work either, so the joke was also on the Skoda-haters.

But a new, £40,000 Skoda Superb Estate car? The otherwise worthy challenger to the likes of Peugeot and Volvo in the premium-volume borderlands? Refusing to proceed?

Yes, indeed, and it’s a very long time since I had such an experience in a press car. The last one I can remember was a Range Rover with a strangely sticky automatic gearbox. It would be quite jerky, but sort of manageable, until I was driving it up a moderate incline in south London, when it just kangarooed to a standstill. I well remember the line this incident gifted me: a car designed to conquer Mount Kilimanjaro couldn’t beat Sydenham Hill, SE23.

So, forgive me if I use this rare experience with the Skoda to boost my prose on this occasion – when everything goes right, it makes a review a lot less interesting to write.

As I half expected, by the time the AA turned up the Skoda had cured itself and started no problem. There had been a software rather than a mechanical issue (and yes, it did have petrol in it) and the car was so new the fault code couldn’t be found.

The specialist Skoda/VW assist technician would take a couple of days to show up, they told me, so I made do with the regular service, and it got sorted out, indeed self-healed, anyway.

On the way home I gambled and stopped off at a shop; when I tried to restart the Superb it teased me a couple of times with the same error message, but relented and let me go home. There was no repetition, but I looked at the Skoda with a degree of suspicion. That’s not good. It makes you wonder.

I was, as a result, a bit wary of taking the Skoda on a long journey and finding myself stranded, so I wasn’t able to fully exploit the 660-mile range available from the still nearly-full tank of fuel. You can see why a lot of people get range anxiety with electric cars, because even the heaviest ones with the biggest battery packs can’t rival that.

From what I did see, the new Skoda Superb Estate is an extremely accomplished all-rounder.

I liked the classy, conservative styling – like a cross between a traditional Volvo estate with a contemporary BMW grille up front.

It passed the IKEA Billy bookcase test, though the rear seats don’t sit quite flat while folded. The leather seats with massage function were cosseting and they had almost all of the safety, convenience and comfort that you’d expect in a car in this class.

My only quibbles with my mid-range SE L trim level was a lack of a “heads up” display, and the way the cruise controls are relegated to a pod to the rear of the steering wheel, rather than buttons on it – a bit too tricky to use on the move, and a bit antique these days.

I did very much like the smooth rise and responsive seven-speed DSG dual-clutch auto transmission, which was especially satisfying in “Sport” mode.

The finely finished coach work is complemented by 18-inch alloy wheels, matrix LED headlights and LED rear lights, as well as those heated and ventilated front seats and keyless entry.

It’s a handsome, understated car, and, for the price, a very competitive package. It’s also, with this 1.5-litre engine set up, exceedingly frugal and green (albeit not the fastest).

Indeed, it’s increasingly in a class of its own, given that Peugeot’s lovely 508 estate soon goes off sale, and Volvo can’t seem to make its mind up about whether to carry on selling the V60 and V90.

As ever, the Skoda isn’t far behind its VW and Audi siblings in perceived and actual quality (and they share software, of course…), though the Skoda is still not as special as a BMW or Mercedes equivalent.

I suspect that the fully-kitted Laurin + Klement edition, named after Skoda’s founders, might turn a few German premium customers, even so.

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