The coilover kits feature 36 way dampening and rebound adjustment, two positions for camber adjustment, and pillowball upper top mounts.

The replacement upper mounts do away with the prone to failure factory strut bearings and also make suspension much quicker to install as no factory components need to be swapped onto the new suspension….

Original article at VW Coilovers Kit

Skoda has today issued the first – teaser – photo of the new Superb estate. Through the annoyingly silhouetted shadows, you can make out a…. Superb with a bigger boot.

Yep, there are few surprises in store for the Superb wagon: it’s a Superb with a sloping estate tailgate in place of the existing ‘hatchaloon’s multi-hinged rear end.

At around 4850mm in length the Superb Estate will be roughly the same size as its sedan sibling externally but is said to be somewhat taller thanks to a revised rear seat arrangement and additional cargo area.

The same powertrain arrangements as found in the upcoming sedan will also be offered across the wagon range with three diesel and three petrol engines available – all of which are Volkswagen sourced.

Close analysis of these spy photos reveals a new front spoiler lurking under the disguise; the aero aids are noticeably honed and the air intakes much bigger. All the better for ramming air into the turbocharged engine.

Skoda Fabia vRS (2010): the engine bay

Will the new Fabia vRS sport a turbodiesel like the last one? We’re not clear yet. But sticking a derv in a hot hatch’s engine bay does limit its appeal to many enthusiasts.

We’d expect the new vRS to offer a petrol option this time. The VW Group has a variety of downsized unleaded munchers – CAR understands the warmed-up Ibiza Cupra and Polo GTI will be powered by a twincharged 1.4-litre with around 170bhp.

I’m not sure people in the provinces are quite so enamoured of the idea, but certainly people in London — well, at least people in London who read The Guardian — do seem to like having as many differently flavoured neighbours as possible.

Some super-cool friends of mine were recently being shown round an agreeable school in Wandsworth. They could have asked about the proximity of sports pitches or the Sats averages but instead pointed out to the headmistress that there weren’t many black children in the classrooms. “No, well there wouldn’t be,” she explained, “because there aren’t any diplomatic families round here.”

Of course, in the face of such nonsense, they’ve decided instead to send their child to the Al-Qaeda Mormon Franco/Peruvian Fusion School for Lapsed West African Catholics.

On the whole, I quite like multicultural living; certainly, I like what the recent influx of immigrants has done to the capital’s restaurant scene, but I’m not so sure it works on the road. Imagine, if you will, an Italian attempting to drive, Naples style, through a small town in Alabama, or a Buddhist from Bali trying to negotiate the five-way junction at the Arc de Triomphe, and you start to grasp the problem. In essence, each new British citizen brings with him his own country’s rules of the road, which means that all of a sudden the stew’s got yams in it, and ginger.

Only the other day a middle-aged chap in a pair of ill-fitting Aviator shades pulled alongside me at the lights in his mildly battered W-registered Vauxhall Corsa. All the windows were down, and he was playing Blockbuster by the Sweet at full volume while swigging from a bottle of beer. This may have been a cool look in downtown Ankara, but in Covent Garden, I have to say, it didn’t really work terribly well.

The look, of course, was no big deal, but the preposterous wheelspinning start as the lights went green certainly was. You see, apart from young men in Porsche Boxsters, the British usually drive with a politeness rarely found elsewhere in the world. We tend not to sit in yellow boxes or tailgate on the motorway. And despite various scaremongering reports, expressions of road rage in the UK are usually limited to the wagged finger or the furrowed brow.

Suddenly, though, we’ve been joined by people who are used to running the gauntlet of Sniper’s Alley in Sarajevo, and by Italian exchange students, and those who bought an out-of-state driving licence in Punjab for 20 rupees. As a result, the simple roundabout — a peculiarly British invention that works on the principle of courtesy — has become a white-knuckle ride of fear.

Then there’s the horn. Since the 1950s really, it’s been used in Britain mostly to attract the attention of friends on the pavement. Now, though, it’s used for all sorts of reasons: because it’s there and it works, because some Iranian second division football team has won a match, because of a quashed coup back home, or simply as a pressure valve in traffic jams.

Last week, a swarthy-looking chap in the car behind lent on his hooter for a full two minutes, simply because I hadn’t driven into a junction marked “keep clear”. And yesterday I was very nearly T-boned by someone who had sailed through a red light. Why not? Where he comes from, red lights are seen as pretty, rather than instructive.

On the motorway, you drive for mile after mile behind a car being driven by someone who passed his test on an ox. He simply has no idea that he’s supposed to pull over — the situation never cropped up in Bhutan.

I’m not criticising, you understand. I am not a UKIP lunatic and this is not some Daily Mail rant. I think women should be allowed to wear the burqa at school, and in the supermarket and in the mosque. All I’m saying here is that it’s not such a good idea to wear one while going round Hyde Park Corner.

No, wait — I’m not even saying that. Of course you must be allowed to wear whatever you like while circumnavigating Britain’s busiest junction. But please understand that those of us who have been driving in Britain for the past 25 years are not necessarily aware that the person coming the other way has a bag on their head. So give us some time to adapt, and in the meantime, maybe you could put a sign or something in the back window?

I do think, however, that it might be a good idea for immigration officials to give the new boys a Highway Code when they arrive, or maybe a series of laminated handy hints that could be hung with the religious memorabilia and the spicy air freshener from the rear-view mirror. Stuff like what to do at a red traffic light, how to deal with a yellow box and why it’s not a very good f****** idea to drive around at two in the f****** morning blowing your f****** horn.

There’s another issue, too. People from countries only recently introduced to the car have no idea about the social niceties of what to buy. So they just go out there and buy whatever’s cheap. This means the roads of London are now littered with horrid old Toyota Previas and Nissan Glorias that have been imported on dhows from second-hand car lots in Sharjah. Anything, really, with four seats and a horn.

This brings me on to the Skoda Fabia diesel. Under the dour stewardship of Volkswagen, we’re told that you can now talk about Skoda without an end-of-the-pier drum roll and trombone accompaniment. But let’s be honest; you’ve got to live a fairly style-free existence before you seriously start to consider actually buying one.

At £11,990, the Fabia diesel is a little cheaper than other similarly sized cars in the VW portfolio, but it’s not particularly good-looking, and even though the vRS model I tested has off-white inserts in the seats, the interior is dreary and depressing.

Is it fast? Well, when you look at the usual benchmarks, you have to say no. Nought to 60 is dealt with in 9.6sec and the top speed is 126mph. This isn’t bad for a small diesel but in the big scheme of things, it’s nothing to write home about.

What the figures don’t tell you, though, is just how quickly this little car accelerates in the midrange. In a petrol car, the power comes in a smooth stream across the rev range, but in this, all 130 horses seem to arrive at once.

You don’t hang on to the gear, feeling the surge growing in strength. You put your foot down and the power comes in a huge lump, like a wrecking ball. It’s over as quickly as it arrived, but that’s okay because you’ve overtaken the car in front with yards to spare.

Study the performance characteristics of this car carefully and you will arrive at an extraordinary conclusion. It may only be a 1.9 litre diesel hatchback, but round a track it will blow a supercharged Mini Cooper into the weeds. It is astonishingly fast.

At this point I’d love to tell you that by fitting such a huge oil-burning stove under the bonnet they’ve sent the handling all to cock. But I’m afraid not. It hangs on well, there’s lots of feedback through the steering, and, as a bonus I really wasn’t expecting, it rides nicely too. So you get all the thrills of a genuine hot hatchback, in a well-screwed-together, comfortable and practical package which, because it’s a diesel, will go from here to Nebraska on a single tank.

Great, but you’re not interested, are you? You think that for £12,000 there must be something wrong with it, and you know that telling people at parties you have a Skoda is like telling them you have an embarrassing discharge.

Britain’s new boys will be less bothered about such things. They’ll buy this car because it’s cheap, and as a result of that, they’re going to be tearing around Britain’s yellow boxes and bus lanes in a genuinely very good little car.

VITAL STATISTICS

Model: Skoda Fabia vRS
Engine type: Four-cylinder, 1896cc turbo diesel
Power: 130bhp @ 4000rpm
Torque: 228 lb ft @ 1900rpm
Transmission: Six-speed manual, front-wheel drive
Suspension: (front) coil springs, struts, anti-roll bar (rear) coil springs, torsion beam, anti-roll bar
Tyres: 205/45 WR16
Fuel/CO2: 55.4mpg (combined) / 138g/km
Acceleration: 0-60mph: 9.6sec
Top speed: 126mph
Price: £11,990
Verdict: The thrills of a hot hatch in a practical, comfortable and economical package

But how would they match up? I never fail to be amazed by the amount of in-gear punch the vRS has. And what really gets me is how little torque steer there is, as you would normally expect a small car feeding 130bhp and 310Nm through the front wheels to suffer.

My vehicle certainly has the upper hand on paper, as Ollie’s machine can only muster 100bhp from its 1.4-litre 16-valve petrol engine. But then the interior has been stripped to minimise weight, so maybe my podgier Skoda would prove slower off the line. As we took our starting positions at the track, Ollie’s Group A Fabia looked the part, in all its stickers and livery.

However, my car was the wolf in sheep’s clothing, as became obvious when the vRS scorched from 0-60mph in 8.1 seconds – Ollie didn’t cross the 60mph mark until 10.6 seconds, even though the Group A car is equipped with a six-speed sequential gearbox, which meant he could keep his foot hard down and just bang the lever through the gears. This is one of the few modified parts on the Fabia rally car, as most of the rest of it is unchanged from the roadgoing Skoda – it even has the same air-con vents.

Unfortunately, although the vents are in place, the Group A doesn’t actually have air-con, so Ollie was rather warm by the end of our challenge.

Worse was to come for the Group A. We tested the in-gear performance as well, and it was here that the vRS’s superior torque made a huge difference: 50-70mph in sixth was despatched in 8.1 seconds, which was 3.1 seconds quicker than Ollie’s motor. The story didn’t get any better in the lower gears as the road car was up by 1.4 seconds from 30-50mph in third.

Of course, if you head off on to a mucky track the rally car comes into its own, and Ollie testifies to how great it is for pounding through forest stages. Nevertheless, the vRS continues to surprise everyone here in the office with people constantly reporting back to me how great it is after they’ve driven it. In fact, one or two members of staff have even enquired how much it is, as they’re considering buying one for themselves. I doubt they’d say the same of Ollie’s Group A Fabia.

Second Opinion
I’ve always liked the Fabia, and even owned a 1.9 TDI model. But after road testing the vRS when it was launched last year, I became an even bigger fan. With seriously flexible performance, the Skoda is one of the most underrated performance cars money can buy. The comfortable seats impress as well. In fact, I can’t find much to fault about our long-termer – even the silver paint suits it well.

In order to homologate the 300bhp 2.0-litre Fabia World Rally car, the Czechs had to build a production Fabia of similar length. Hence this vRS models beefier front air dam and rear bumper, plus its roof-mounted spoiler. That however, is where any real trace of similarity between these two Skodas ends.

They dont even drink the same fuel, the vRS grabbing its share of the limelight by becoming the markets first hot hatch with diesel power. The use of VWs familiar 130bhp TDI unit was the idea of Group Chairman Bernd Pischetsreider. To be honest, it was a proposal which initially didnt go down too well in Prague, where the engineers had wanted to use a 2.0-litre 160bhp unit that would have given this car real sparkle.

Pischetsreider justified the decision by pointing out that half of all Fabias are already sold with diesel power, so trade-up opportunities would be greater. Plus, with the diesel unit, mid-range pulling power would be enough to embarrass many more powerful petrol hot hatches. Both these arguments would have made more sense if Herr Pischetsreider had authorised use of the awesome 150bhp TDI diesel already seen in VWs mkIV Golf and Bora models. Still, even as it stands, this 130bhp unit is powerful enough to raise a few eyebrows.

Dont judge it on the traditional 0-60mph and top speed benchmarks (9.6s and 126mph if youre interested). Borrow one and go overtaking in it: then youll understand. Around 229lbft of pulling power from just 1900rpm means that even in lazy 5th gear, the important 50-75mph increment occupies just 10.6s. Snatch 3rd gear and youll be launched right up to the tailpipes of far more expensive shopping rockets.

“Perhaps a hot hatch for those who dont really want one ”

Talking of expense, youll be wondering about that. After all, though Skoda has a reputation as a budget brand, Fabias arent actually all that cheap (especially not the World Rally version which can be yours for £470,000 should you manage to persuade the Mlada Boleslav to build you one.). At first glance, priced at £12,375, the vRS doesnt seem to be very affordable either until you look a little more closely at its opposition.

Even SEAT, supposedly a more affordable VW Group brand, will charge you nearly £1,500 for use of the same unit in their five-door Ibiza TDI 130 FR. And all this despite the fact that the Fabia is almost as big as a mkIV Golf, has pretty much the same quota of kit and all of the fabled VW Group build quality. Resale values should be good too. The vRS sits on 16-inch aluminium-alloy wheels through which you can spot green brake callipers.

Inside, there are monogrammed RS grey and black fabric sports seats, an aluminium gear knob and a three-spoke sports steering wheel. ABS, air conditioning and a CD player are also standard. Despite all of this however, its hard to get too excited about the cabin. There are aluminium instrument surrounds, indicated that someone, somewhere was on a mission to brighten things up but he or she should have been allowed to try a bit harder.

It remains very dull, as usual with Skoda, giving you the impression that its trying too hard not to be a Volkswagen. On the road, most owners should generally be happy, though its clear that Skoda still has quite a bit to learn about ride and handling before its products can compete with the very best. Still, you should find this Fabia both tractable and nimble, though it does roll a bit when the going gets very twisty. Most owners will be happy to accept this drawback however, since the flip side of the coin is that it has enabled the production of a fast hatch that doesnt shake your teeth out over the bumps.

True, courtesy of stronger front springs and firmer damper settings (along with thicker anti-roll bars), the ride is firmer than the average Fabia owner will be used to, but its not enough to spoil what will largely be positive impressions on the average test drive around the block. Of course, one of the huge benefits of plumbing in diesel power to this car is the likely reduction in running costs. And here, this Fabia wont disappoint. Unless you really are a pedal to the metal merchant, you should average over 50mpg in normal use.

Moreover, carbon dioxide emissions (138k/gm) are low enough to place the car in the 18% bracket for company users. Only one five-door bodystyle is available and of course, within it, you get the usual Fabia recipe which means a car larger than any other in the class. Unusually for a Supermini, five can be seated in reasonable comfort. The boot’s a useful shape (offering 1016 litres with the seats down), with 60/40 access through the split-folding rear bench and sturdy luggage hooks for securing awkward loads. The vRS is a likeable flagship for the Fabia line-up perhaps a hot hatch for those who dont really want one. View the car this way and it begins to make a lot of sense.

Facts At A Glance
CAR: Skoda Fabia vRS
PRICES: £12,375 – on the road
INSURANCE GROUP: 9A
CO2 EMISSIONS: 138g/km
PERFORMANCE: Max Speed 126mph / 0-60mph 9.6s
FUEL CONSUMPTION: (combined) 52.3mpg
STANDARD SAFETY FEATURES: Twin front airbags / ABS
WILL IT FIT IN YOUR GARAGE?: Length/Width/Height, 3960/1646/1451mm