Wheels Australia - June 2018

106 whichcar.com.au/wheels

there are times when the R8’s cabin

packaging can feel surprisingly klutzy.

Despite boasting a centre console that

looks as if it could house a sequoia log

rather than a driveshaft, the Mercedes-

AMG GT is a better choice for covering

serious kilometres. The engine ticks along

with just a subtle bass hum, your hip point

feels lower than in the R8 and the seats,

although undeniably firm, are generously

cut, with a greater measure of available

recline than the mid-engined R8. Despite

being the only car here without an engine

behind the driver, the GT nevertheless

manages to deliver the worst rearwards

visibility. That T-rex action to reach the

awkward gear shifter is inexcusable too.

After levering editor Inwood out of the

Ferrari, I discover why he’s so reluctant to

sample the German offerings. The cabin

feels huge and airy, with a low centre

console, acres of space for your feet,

comfortably the most head and elbow

room and the most comfortable seats. Best

mirrors too. With the suspension set into

Bumpy Road mode, it mops up the worst

of the Hume without transmitting shocks

through the chassis. The engine is muted

enough to be able to enjoy the stereo

without having to dial it to 11. It’s an

unexpected side to the Ferrari’s character

that I never saw coming but this low-stress

feel to the blown engine has me a little

uncomfortable knowing what’s to come.

After the long highway stretch is

completed, we refuel and photographer

Dewar informs us that the photography for

this feature will be conducted with roofs

down. It’s clear that we’re going to get a

very good feel for how well these cars work

with tops stowed. Realising that I’m likely

to burn to a crisp, I buy a truly terrible hat

in the servo and have a play with the roof

mechanisms. The Ferrari’s is undoubtedly

the slickest, flipping its piano-black hard

panel over and hiding it beneath the rear

deck. You sacrifice the coupe’s glazed-in

view of the engine, but that’s the only

aesthetic compromise you’ll need to make.

Operable at speeds up to 50km/h, it drops

in 14.5 seconds.

The AMG’s simpler fabric roof requires

just 9.5 seconds to stow but is devoid of the

street theatre that’s fitted as standard at

Maranello. Of the cars here, the Mercedes

seems to make most sense as a convertible.

The proportions suit an open car, and

while the rear of the coupe is undeniably

beautiful, the Roadster’s merging ellipses

look purposeful and almost hydrodynamic,

like the flanks of a requiem shark.

The R8 offers less of a cohesive

aesthetic. From some angles it looks

swollen and frumpy, with a multitude of

convex curves on the superstructure aft of

the cabin, a short, almost apologetic front

end and that strange, almost vestigial

sideblade. But catch it at the right angle –

usually a high rear three-quarter or from

low straight behind and it brings a visual

drama that eludes either of the others.

The fabric roof is slower to stow too,

taking a yawning 21 seconds in total.

With the roof down, the Mercedes

suffers the least wind buffeting, and the

Airscarf system allows you to manage the

temperature at the back of your neck. The

Ferrari’s acceptable if you keep the side

windows up. Drop them and you’ll get a bit

of a beating as speeds rise. The Audi suffers

from the most buffeting, at one point trying

to smother me with my own hood.

So the Audi has its flaws as a convertible.

Packaging, aesthetics and wind isolation

are issues. However, you’ll forgive all of that

when you find a decent road, switch the

car into Dynamic and start pedalling it in

anger. The V10 has always been an angry-

sounding engine. It’s not the beautifully

melodic sound of a great eight, rather it’s

something that’s brasher, more dramatic. I

think this engine actually sounds its best in

the mid-range, when you witness that hair-

raising flexing of its muscles at 6000rpm,

the timbre just starting to develop a manic

Stuka dive-horn overlay. Peak power arrives

at 7800rpm, at which point you’ve only got

another 700 revs to play with before you’ll

need to pull the right-hand plastic paddle

and feel the next gear shunt brutally home.

Back off and there’s a volley of crackles and

bangs from the exhaust. Raise the roof, drop

the tiny rear window and you can dispense

with the hat and still enjoy the soundtrack.

It’s huge fun and, sadly, feels a bit end-of-

an-era. Get ’em while they’re hot.

After the start-up bark of the Audi’s

V10, the AMG sounds about as clean as

The AMG’s centre console looks as if it could

house a sequoia log rather than a driveshaft