Vauxhall Cascada 2.0 CDTi Elite
Our Rating

4/5

Vauxhall Cascada 2.0 CDTi Elite

We fit a whole school's pupils into the Cascada. Admittedly, a very small school.

This car posed many questions, mostly, it turns out, about myself.I will admit to an instant question the moment I sat in the driver's seat on the first evening: is this a Mac or a PC? In my mind a Mac is a very intuitive piece of hardware, everything found where you expect it or can predict it to be, whereas a PC I thought of as a very complex bit of kit with so many facets, bells and whistles that it took a long time of exploring, and many failures, in order to grapple its working, even partially.This car is a PC, I decide. There are so many light, switches and knobs. On the console. On the steering wheel. On the door. There is something of an "airliner cockpit at night" look. I spent a very wobbly six miles trying to work out how to change the heating and use the radio.But wait a minute, a Mac isn't intuitive at all: try and find the combination for a hash or a forward delete. This car has a console that would thrill some drivers. They will delve deep into the manual, programming and tweeking. It will be familiar to any previous Vauxhall driver, just like any Windows update.No, I'm just one of those drivers who prefer a simple, clean layout and fewer functions. And then again, I grew to enjoy some of the options. Damn this car.The Cascada is a convertible. I wasn't prepared for the experience. I wasn't prepared for the questioning looks as I drove by, topless. I was the envy of children and the distain of farmers in their utilitarian 4x4s. "Why have you got that?" seemed to be the frozen expression on many faces, even the ones who tried hard  not to look, as if to look was to approve, and that would not do.In a peculiar way, there was more approval from the upper-end drivers, the BMW and Audi owners. It was as if they had already reconciled, with their own purchases, the "why on earth spend money on that?" question. They could appreciate the choice for the car itself, which is, it has to be fully admitted, very beautiful for its price.Don't take my word for it. I subcontracted some of the comments to a group of the harshest critics you can have: primary school children. When one of these exclaims, pointing at the front and rear lines, and using some of their best language in ages, that the one thing they really like is the style, then somebody got something right somewhere.Speaking of children, we do have photographic proof that you can get a whole school, plus its secretary, in a Cascada! Just don't tell Vauxhall that we did it, even if it is a very, very small school. However, I doubt you could get even one of them in the boot.So, another question: what is the boot for? You can't take a body away in one of these. You probably can't take a large suitcase. Don't even think about a box of groceries, although I'm sure that M&S boxes are suitably compact and bijou, and probably very in keeping.A coat and an overnight back for that weekend fling, but not golf clubs and trolley. But there again, those that want this car either don't play golf or have another car available. It seems that if I have to ask these questions I'm missing the whole point of having the car. Let's try another tack.Love the colour. My partner, who has been known to puncture the pomposity of a manufacturer by redefining the colour, and who famously described a very smug and expensive cruiser as "parcel-tape brown", loved it on sight. This was a relief. I had to lure her into the last test car with a bag of sweets. To her, this is "wine-berry". Don’t ask Vauxhall their version. It doesn’t matter.Together, we looked around for people to take for a spin. Would anyone want to drive in an open-top car on a damp day? One friend shrieked with delight. Another, this time male, failed to convince with the "I suppose I might just" approach. It seems that people like the experience.Question: what's it like to drive in a convertible? I thought I knew.I wasn't prepared for the smells. You become conscious of tour bus exhausts and quickly learn which fields have been sprayed with slurry. Also, it's not a great car for conversations. Probably a man's car then.It's not necessarily a great experience for the driver either: with the need for good protection, the windscreen pillar is robust, with the effect that the driver is not always aware of the outside vista, but finds their view constrained through windscreen. The passenger can enjoy it all, that 360-degree sense of being free, if, however, you remember to put up the side windows. If you don't, then be prepared to pick up the tab for the lady's trip to the hairdresser. And gentlemen, don't drive and toupée.There is a wind deflector. Questions: where is it, how do you get to it, how do you fix it in place, and how do you put it away again? I know there's a manual. That is how I managed to propel my secretary into the back of the passenger seat.I discovered that the back seat when released, from inside the boot, to get at the wind deflector, drops down with no small force. She had similar bad luck  when exiting the car, with the passenger seat sliding back onto her leg.She is no Valkyrie - I don't think they ride in the back anyway - but she had difficulty holding the seat forward, the wide door open, and leaving with dignity. As for the wind deflector, we couldn't work out if it made any difference, and left it, along with the warning triangle that we couldn't fit back into its case, tucked away in the boot for someone else.So, a last question: did I like the car? Yes. Supplementary question: would I buy one? No. I grew to enjoy the Cascada, was sad to hand it back, had fun going for night drives, had a laugh taking friends out for a spin and a hairdry. I grew to understand some of the logic in the controls, and appreciate some of the options they offered. I appreciated the handling and the comfort of the driving experience.But in the end this car answered a question about myself that I would rather it hadn't. I've become too sensible. I like my Skoda's sensible fuel consumption and its sensible boot and its sensible, plain controls. However, before I start buying shot-sleeved pastel shirts in summer and begin to take a second look at that Saga catalogue, could I have another spin please? Just to get people asking disapproving questions about me, you understand. Engine 1956cc, 4 cylinders Power 163bhp Transmission 6-speed manual Fuel/CO2 54.3mpg / 138g/km Acceleration 0-62mph: 9.6 seconds Top speed 135mph Price £27,875 Details correct at publication date