Some say that there's just something not quite right about the way that
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| Phaeton is at home in the city. (Photo: Justin Couture, Canadian Auto Press) |
it looks, that it's deficient in some way, shape, or form. It's not that it isn't big enough either, because, at over five metres in length, it is as large as luxury barges come. Neither does it lack the details of an expensive car; the shut-lines pass Bernd Pischetsrieder's own sliding-finger tests, and the welds on the roof are so tight and so fine that they don't need to be covered with a cap. This is aside from those elegant wheels, the flush-mounted tail pipes, and polished aluminum struts which lift its hood and trunk vertically. I suppose it may be a bit on the plain side, a bit too reserved, but if it were my hundred grand I wouldn't want to be driving a car that looks like it was styled by a blindfolded man wielding a machete.
One of the distinguishing features about the Phaeton is that it has two abnormally large VW logos, one on the front and one on the back. From looking at this machine, this masterwork, you get a feeling that these chrome-plated
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| In Europe, the Phaeton doesn't even bear Phaeton badges; just the two VW badges. (Photo: Justin Couture, Canadian Auto Press) |
logos are tokens of pride, a two-part trophy for the lab-coats that designed the car. But as proud as they may be, it's not the most convincing factor for those who have to purchase it; while the VW brand name is no shrinking violet, perhaps it may have been wiser to make the logos smaller. With such big badges, the Phaeton comes across as a car that almost tries too hard to be discreet, as if it were trying to say to people, "Don't look at me, I'm just a Volkswagen." Maybe this truly is the kind of car for those who wish to be deliberately inconspicuous, the type of plainly invisible vehicle that tax avoiders with offshore bank accounts in the Cayman Islands would buy.
But
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| Would you just look at that... I don't think there's a more meticulously crafted vehicle within $250,000 of the Phaeton. (Photo: Justin Couture, Canadian Auto Press) |
for all of that inflated last-generation Passat look about its classy exterior, you'd never know what was inside the Phaeton; mostly no one would even bother to look inside. It's an oasis of perforated leather, accented by ribbons of glossy wood and glistening bits of chrome, the kind of high quality look, feel and execution that characterized Mercedes-Benz when it wasn't chasing profit margins. I believe the term is "over-engineered".
And
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| Retractable vents put the 'wow' in climate control. (Photo: Justin Couture, Canadian Auto Press) |
you can feel that it's a quality item too; the doors shut with a heavy, air-displacing 'whumph', gravitating towards the body with the kind of force that can snap stray limbs like twigs. It comes as no surprise either - even though the door's skins were made of aluminum like the fenders and decklid it doesn't quite balance out the sound-proofing, the carpeting, the electrics, a forest's worth of wood and the two panes of glass that make up each window. And then there's my favourite bit, the draft-free ventilation system. The Phaeton does have a proper set of exposed vents on its dash, but rather they're covered up by a retractable plinth of wood, and are only open for viewing when max ventilation is required.
