Family Car of the Year: Mercedes C-Class

Two identical Mercedes C-Class, two full tank. Very different ways

FIRST DAY

Sam Philip: This is an unusual race. First prize is waiting, and finish at everyone. But overall start – in Stuttgart, home of Mercedes. We have two twin-wagon C220 CDI, tucked under the string. We photographer Simon go to the south, and Vijay dressed as a conqueror of Antarctica, go with Tom to the north. The Aim? Go as far as possible on a single tank, with one condition: the places where we zaglohnem should not be in German exotic. Points given for courage here, and not just for the distance.

At C220 larger tank (66 liters), while the standard C-Class – 41 liters. Official fuel consumption – 4.1 liters / 100 km. Theoretically, you can drive 1,600 km. That is, for many, many miles before refueling.

Not counting the voluminous stomach, the new C-Class station wagon for our race and the rest. Mercedes hung him the label “business class”. This comfortable, luxurious, full of technology midsize wagon. I unfold gray barn on Bentsshtrasse south to Austria and Italy’s Amalfi coast (if we go doedem). And see how Vijay crawls to the north.

Vijay Pattni: Tom and I will do everything properly and majestically rolled up to the finish line somewhere in Scandinavia. In Norway, unless specifically. The first step to success – go light, but I can not throw Tom and his heaviest equipment. Hence, we find other ways to not accelerate above a hundred, to anticipate the flow, go coasting and include air conditioning. I’m sorry, Tom.

Mercedes, infection, at a gas station to the report, he was ready to drive 925 miles. And just before the end of Denmark to go more than a thousand. Yes, Sam and Simon fell lot more enjoyable. Prior to Hirtshals – the town on the coast of Denmark – can only be reached by motorway. 1170 km boredom. Tom and I decide to settle accounts with the unpleasant part in one fell swoop.

BMW AND AUDI FLASHED BY LIKE LIGHTNING

On the way there are two insights. First, fuel economy, you become kilometromanom. When the distance before refueling increases after ten minutes, you scream with happiness. When the flow rate increases – you’re black clouds.

Second, go on the highway on Tortoise 100 km / h is very scary. We find solace in the hide and seek for the same slug – trucks. Glued to the bumper of Mr. Shenker bringing up who knows what, we use low-pressure area and hide from whistling past the cars.

After two hours, and only one hundred and fifty kilometers, we have increased the projected distance from 925 to 1160 km. That’s where the fun! We say goodbye to Mr. Schenker, who turns to Bamberg, and go further to the north, into the night.

Fifteen hundred kilometers at a speed of 88 km / h – in anticipation of Sam and his face Vijaya seven hours did not flinch a muscle

SF: While the team “Northern losers” dragged through Germany, the company “Southern Pretty Boy” has slipped three countries: the southern corner of Germany, Austria and drove to northern Italy. Unfortunately, this advantage is bought at the cost of a decent piece of our fuel reserves. While Vijay trudged through the flat central Germany, we darted through the Alps. And in the Alps impossible to save goryuchku.

Forget. Life is too short to hide behind the wagons and switch to 1300 rev / min. We fuck on the three-lane highway at 145 km / h, watching as each passed us eats five kilometer on the display. When Simon asked me not to drive, I patiently explained that go more slowly on the highway just dangerous. Patrol immediately selects the right, if you go less 140. When we climb into the Alps, I notice that Simon google phone “canister diesel Austria.”

About ten o’clock at an altitude of one mile above sea temperature behind -3◦S and hover in the air snowflakes. We stop for the night in an empty ski resort Vipiteno just behind the Italian border. C-CLass believes that fuel remains at 644 km. Amalfi much further. It is good that in a restaurant full of hot pizza and beer. I send photos Vijay our dinner and get a rude answer. It seems northerners still going.

VP: Somewhere between Hamburg and Hanover Tom amuses me a story about Donald Krauherste, English sailor, who in the sixties participated in the round the world yacht race. When he realized that not doplyvet, he lied about his coordinates, and then mad and killed himself. Good plan, I decide. But before committing suicide, I’ll kill Sam, because he imposed me north. Fuel economy on the German autobahn must be enrolled in the third article of the European Convention on Human Rights. This is a real torture. You do not take their eyes off the flow sensor, occasionally balls from stoplights. And when you get more leisurely carrier, it is necessary to perform the slowest in the world overtaking, checking in the mirror, no flies on you whether another meteor.

By night boredom becomes unbearable. No traffic lights, only lasers million BMW, Audi and vans, flying by at the speed of lightning.

At two o’clock in the morning we we reach Denmark, fuel remains at 772 km. I notice that the coating Danish roads better, which should reduce the rolling resistance and increase efficiency. I’m happy. O God, that I become?

After three and a half hours after a fleeting moment of happiness we finally we reach the northern edge of Denmark and valimsya to bed. Sleep is nothing at all.

DAY TWO

SF: Just one hour after Vijay and Tom went to sleep in the cheapest hotel in Denmark, we woke up with Simon frosty clear morning in the Italian Alps. Great European array immersed in the splendor of autumn. Bright blue sky above the lush green meadows and snow-capped peaks, quiet dawn in a light haze spiced aroma of burning wood. In this morning, the mood at the height of that life – a miracle. If it were not depressing thought that for the next two days will have to travel 1,050 miles on half a tank …

Plans to save crumbling after news of the terrible traffic jam at Bolzano. We’re going to detour through the mountains and find a terrific pass. Paso di Pennes winds along the slopes of the Alps at an altitude of 2200 meters. Sparkling paradise of eternal snow over the forest and babbling brooks. Streamer on impossible to keep consumption of 4 l / 100 km. To the top of the pass covered 32 km, and the instrument – 160 km. Florence so do not hold on. But on the way down we wins back 48 km …

WE GO FURTHER … OR RATHER, CRAWL AT A SPEED OF 88 KM / H

VP: Rubbing red eyes, we wake up in Hirtshals, which resembles a town of “The Truman Show”, full of seagulls and robbers, trawlers and ominous silence.

Night highway recall nightmare, in which, however, Mercedes was our best friend. Extremely comfortable (thanks to air suspension), well-equipped and reliably constructed. This business class.

Ferry from Hirtshals to Kristiansand Norwegian is 130 km, and then – along the coast to the west, while “Benz” is not out of steam. We pray for calm, hoping to take a nap, but the North Sea meets us furious pumping, – instead of refreshing sleep four o’clock horror.

While steam throws the waves, I understand that we: a) economy, thanks to the monstrous engines to Rolls-Royce, and b) I do not salt. We approach the late, just a few hours before dark and sigh of relief tread on the ground of a third country, Norway.

SF: I want to confess something. While Vijay was of the waves, we have committed fraud. No, worse. We tried cheated, but did not. Somewhere near Trento I broke down. Amalfi has 837 km and fuel must come to an end through the 483. I could not bear the shame, and thus have to refuel. “Only 20 liters” – crazy junky excuse in breaking. A single dose. No one will know. But damn diesel heater was not working. Wrinkled tanker, 60-year-old, a subsidiary tanned old man growled something in Italian. “Inglese, skuzi” – I apologize. He shrugged and said, “If Not possible.” “Can not?” – I asked. “No possible,” – he repeated, and went into the shadows. We left with nothing. This man saved us from ourselves.

This phenomenon of the Holy Spirit spodviglo I collect will in a fist. Cruise control at 100 km / h, turn off the air conditioner for home and crawl Ferrari, Lamborghini and balsamic. In this ride has something psychotherapy. No need to worry about the cops and speed cameras, the soul at rest.

An hour later, I changed my mind. Force people to save fuel – a crime worse than torture kittens. Another hour – and I wondered if it will work, holding rudder foot, take a nap in the backseat.

But we have to fight for miles. One ekodatchikov C-Class shows how much “clean km” you have earned. Fiction, but it’s nice. C-Class believes that we scored 130 bonus miles, while trudging along the Apennines. On the rise in two-lane truck taxiing in the fast lane, but can not be dispersed. We beat on the brakes and pour their selective mat as sailors syndrome Tourrettes. For us, and so every extra millimeter gas pedal or brakes – a mortal sin. Evening we meet in the mansion at Orvieto, wine and homemade pizza. Can be regarded as a reward for what we resist the temptation …

DAY THREE

SF: 386 km from Orvieto to Sorrento, straight on the highway A1 – real flour. The gauge indicates that the tank is full of a quarter. We dump the ballast (bottles of water and dirty socks), exhibiting a cruise to 88 km / h and sit in silence, watching as the glacier is melting at a rate of fuel. Judging by the malevolent Vijaya text messages, they reap what they have sown the first day of austerity.

VP: Today our harsh epic turned into a pleasant journey. Good Lord, Norway with a drop of sunshine in the autumn cold just fine. Stunning fjords, mountain views and a sense of God’s being.

Way from Kristiansand to Stavanger lies on the coastal highway where the speed is limited. But we have something that. Our goal – a beautiful place away from Stuttgart, and we almost there. Have time to think over how to characterize the C220. He was well-proven over the three days, coped with everything from exhausting the motorway to the narrow streets, from slush to the frozen asphalt. He gently took us to this area. Caring and considerate companion, who knows a lot about comfort.

We drove 1,450 km (!), And on the devices icon flashes to a gas station. Cautiously we propolzayem another 22 km and get up on the shores of beautiful Lake especially, before you reach Stavanger. Passed 1470 km, and in front of us views breathtaking. The trick is done.

Northerners traveled 1,470 km on one tank and got almost to Stavanger. Team southerners stalled over 1370 km after the start, on the embankment of Sant’Agnello. Sam swears he squandered all diesel alpine serpentine. The rest assured that he just does not know how to ride

2840 km of track for two. Sam shows a smug Buddha under the southern sun

SF: Northerners finished and exhaled, and in southern Italy solid nerves. Before Naples, 60 km from Amalfi, C-Class reported that the fuel ran out. Do not want to die in the most unattractive city in Europe, so we continue to crawl along the slow lane at a speed of 80 km / h, at the slightest opportunity sticking to the waggons. Sweat rolls hail not only from the 25-degree heat with no air conditioning – we expect that just about hear the death rattle of diesel and sharply stand. In the long tunnel under the north-east corner of the Amalfi voltage monstrous. If we stand now, clog the entire tunnel.

Finally we leave on blinding daylight and roll downhill along the waterfront Sant’Agnello. Golden evening light glare on the azure waters over which the circling seagulls. Two thick Italian argue, snarling and poking each other with your fingers. We are on the spot: 1370 km. Our tranzhirstvo the first day cost us 101 km. Northerners won, they went further. But we have cheaper beer and better coffee. And the heat! Decide who wins.

VP: Humble yourself, Sam. We won. In the theory of tank C-Class can squeeze all 1,600 km, but in theory you can kiss passionately mako shark. I do not recommend trying to neither the first nor the second. After these works you become unpleasant person.

But the most vivid impression still remains the C-Class. He is the ideal travel companion: a quiet, well-equipped Touring Year, who has never done anything wrong. Do you want this? Hurry – one we threw on the outskirts of Stavanger, and the other – in the port of Sant’Agnello. Just grab a canister with diesel fuel.

Family Car of the Year: Mercedes C-Class