The lower slung, conventional looking RS6 is a more obvious track contender, but its outrageous 10 cylinder engine has a lumpen effect on the front end. Even Usain Bolt would lose a few tenths if he had to run with Phill Jupitus sitting on his shoulders. So the Audi, unsurprisingly, understeers on the track, through it says something about the most powerful Audi production engine ever (571bhp) that Fahad Majidi got the RS6 round in 1min 6.3sec-faster than Evo X, STi and all the hatches. The X6 (1min 10.4 sec) was slower, but still brushed off the pesky Astra and Focus—food for thought for the future encounters with hot hatch wielding yobbos (no, not you, Hammad…) at the lights. The road meanwhile reveals the Audi to be an intercontinental weapon, a sort of MIG fighter fitted with leather chains and a telly an ($800 extra). Like the MIG, it flies in a straight line with impossible urgency, it verse organized by Quattro and six-speed tiptronic ‘box, which is suited to gentle power inputs rather than the Cossack stamping technique favored by yours truly. Its appetite for the job is unstinting but, sorry to say, it’s an experience less emotional than stamp collecting. A chuckle free zone.
They told me X6 is a revelation on the road, but here’s an odd thing—it isn’t. After its perfect ten on the track, the undulations camber atrocities and unfathomable lines of Snowdonia revealed an awkward truth—the car is too quick to be this tall, too eager for its own, or my own, good. The absence of active steering, which admittedly we have largely rubbished until now, is a missed trick here, leaving you at the mercy of a helm that’s way too light and offers a tenth of the feedback you need to enter corners at these rates.