Better than va-va-voom

For anyone who isn't following me on Twitter (my cue to say, well, why aren't you? @jadetaylorcooke), last night was my VW Date Drive (click here for details on the campaign and competition if you've been living under a rock).

Omg.com

(Yes, I just said that.)

I've never been a car person, never been able to get excited about kW and Nm and torque and horsepower and gearboxes and turbochargers and whatnot. But bless my six-inch heels, the Polo GTi changed that. It was beautiful. It was like driving a bottle of your favourite pinotage – smooth, deliciously throaty and with a surprising kick you don't notice until you're cruising in seventh.

Or that's the analogy I'm going with at least.

It's fast. really fast. Seven gears, three different gear options (automatic, automatic sport mode – hells yeah – and manual), seat warmers (I've never had such a toasty bum before), steering wheel shifting paddles for when you're in manual (like a rally car, innit?) and and and ... oh I forget, but it was pure animal ... in an Armani suit. Or something.

VW provided us with a box of goodies including perfume and an ironic CD of classic love songs to play during the drive, and the curvy coastal road to Hout Bay for dinner at Pure Restaurant did the rest.

Had to drop it back at the 12 Apostles Hotel this morning, but I managed to find a little bit of M3 to open her up to 150 km/h 120 km/h (that's our speed limit right?) and really enjoy the purr (I know I sound like a right Jeremy Clarkson wannabe but I don't care). That may not seem impressive to anyone else, but being not the bravest of drivers, and also night blind, it was like a thrill ride for me.

I nearly clung to the keys this morning. In fact, I got so reluctant about handing them over, I sort of made to shake my VW contact's hand instead, but since the keys were still in my palm, it ended up looking like some sort of shady drug deal.

Whatevs. I think I'm in love.