Convertibles are for hairdressers. They're girls' cars, or perhaps for members of groups such as Scissor Sisters, right? The current crop of folding hardtop-equipped cars even more so, allowing top down motoring without the potential for nail-breaking roof clasps and the like. Hey, I don't make the rules; that's just the way it is.
Or rather, it was. Rules, as we all know, are there to be broken. With that in mind, we went along to the launch of the fourth generation of the BMW 3 Series Convertible. I admittedly wondered if BMW was about to break its own 'Ultimate Driving Machine' rule by the adoption of a heavy and bulky folding hardtop in a bid to be the first car in the class with this configuration (we don't consider the Volvo C70 to be a rival). With two days of concentrated driving, that would include everything from sinuous Spanish mountain roads to French autoroute and good old-fashioned British B-roads, we were certain to catch BMW out.
Approach the new Convertible with the roof raised and, as well integrated as the new top is, you'll not mistake it for the 3 Series Coupé. It's difficult to hide the shut lines between the three individual panels (though darker colours are better at this) and the roof profile is more two-door saloon than sleek fastback. Indeed, shut lines aside, it looks as if a regular convertible has been fitted with a removable hardtop. The advantage is of course that you don't need to predict what the weather is going to do before you leave home. Let's face it; even Met Éireann can't do that.
The Spanish equivalent has an easy life and, as predicted, the bright sun burnt my retinas as I stepped off the plane in Valencia, though even with singed eyes, it was impossible to ignore the line of shiny new Convertibles awaiting us. Despite the obvious mismatch between the searing sunshine and your writer's white Irish skin, the roof had to go before a wheel was turned.
There are plenty of folding hardtop cars around now, so watching the choreographed movement of the various panels as they fold themselves out of sight is not quite as awe inspiring as it used to be, but it will still stop passers by in their tracks to watch the show. What's more, if you opt for the 'Comfort access system' then you can sit across the road and operate the roof from the key and admire it with everyone else.
BMW has not sacrificed the Convertible's roof-down styling in the name of practicality. So, just like every other generation of open-topped 3 Series, the rear deck is completely flat. The 3 Series shape lends itself well to having the roof cut off, though the enhanced appearance is partly due to a lower windscreen, which is apparently 20mm lower even than the sleek Coupé.
Naturally there's a downside. I should have put my case into the boot before lowering the roof, as access to the space under the folded roof is a bit tight. Even packing Ryanair-light, there are serious limitations with this car's boot when the roof is folded. If you're going to be driving very far with passengers in the rear, odds are that you're not going to have the roof down anyway, as they will complain about the buffeting at anything over 80km/h and though the wind deflector works particularly well (even at speeds we will never see in Ireland) it fits just where rear passengers' heads go, hence that's not an option. However, if there are just two of you, the rear seat doubles up as a capacious luggage area, so this limitation is unlikely to turn many potential owners off.
Time to sit in and point the chiselled nose 'home'. The plan was to drive our test car from Valencia to Stansted airport in England, in a good deal less than 48 hours. Let me put that into perspective for you: that's about 1,800 kilometres, or twice the length of our island... Not only that; I'm damned if I'm not going to take advantage of Spain's fabulous driving roads.
The Spanish road authorities specialise in traversing steep mountains using as little tarmac as possible. What that means is triple-apex hairpins after tight corner and big, big elevation changes. Thankfully, the Spanish also generally do a great job of surfacing the roads, and so allied to the lack of much traffic, you can have lots of fun. The 3 Series Convertible attacks these roads with aplomb. Turn in is really sharp, with the dependable front end slightly edging out under duress, but ease the power back in and the rear end comes out to play. The traction control system is very well judged, but should you opt to turn it off completely, the chassis will not bite. Instead you are rewarded with a gentle transition from full grip to a controllable and rewarding drift. Progress on a twisty mountain road is outrageous, especially for a car that many will see as for people only interested in looking good.
Mrs. Satnav wasn't happy with my progress by the time I reached Barcelona so I glumly returned to the motorway network. Still, the sun was shining, the wind deflector was allowing me to cruise without bursting an eardrum and my skin hadn't yet turned bright pink, so life was good. Then things took a very pleasant unexpected change. It turns out that the Spanish frugality with road building materials extends to the motorways, with particularly interesting sections over the Pyrenees. There aren't many hairpins, but even keeping to the 120km/h speed limit is a challenge on some of the tighter sections. Thankfully, these roads are lightly trafficked, so it's huge fun to use the whole width of the three lanes. The 3 Series excels in these conditions and I received many a surprised look as the Convertible scythed past supposedly sporty machinery.
The chillier mountain air initially required no more than an increase in the car's heater temperature, but soon enough drizzle put an end to the top-down part of my journey. You know the kind we're familiar with here? You can't really see it, but stand still for too long and it looks like you've fallen into the Liffey. Twenty odd seconds later and I'm protected by the raised roof. Ah, that's much cosier. It's surprising just how much more you hear with the roof down in a car. It's great for bouncing the 335i's exhaust crackle off a tunnel wall, but less appealing is the constant drone from Spanish lorries.
With the roof up, it also felt natural to increase our pace and despite the light precipitation, the Convertible remained composed and secure all the way to the French border. I say border, but there was nobody around to go through the customary "is zis your car sir?" procedure. So that was Spain, only France to go and then I'm practically home...
My God France is a big country. It's daunting to see a figure of over 1,000km to Calais appearing on the satnav screen. The only thing for it is to set the cruise control and make sure you have a decent collection of CDs to hand. Unlike Spain, France is not a country you bend the speed limit rules in, especially not in a fancy British-registered car, so best to focus on the Convertible's comfortable cruising gait and relax. It's a damn shame the speed limit is 'only' 130km/h on the French autoroute, as the roads are nigh on perfect, being very straight and smoother than Bertie.
It's all getting a little monotonous when I hit the Périphérique in Paris. It's about nine on a Sunday night and you'd swear it was rush hour on the M50 (except that everyone's moving at a good lick). There is an incredible amount of traffic on the road, all fighting for their little bit of space with apparently little disregard for speed limits or other rules of the road. It's kind of fun with the comfort of a good navigation system telling you which lane to be in, but I can imagine many ill-equipped tourists ending up lost. It certainly got the adrenaline going again and a surprising number of drivers gave the 3 Series a double take.
With dark well and truly settled in, it's a relief to see signs for Calais with 'only' two hundred and something kilometres to go. Then something bizarre happens, it starts snowing. I don't mean a light dusting that wipers can do nothing with; I mean a torrential blizzard of frozen water, causing the traffic to almost come to a standstill. Seconds before we were all ambling along at 130km/h with clear visibility. It's at times like these you'll appreciate the extra isolation from the elements that a folding hardtop car offers over the fabric-roofed equivalent.
Ten minutes later, it was gone and traffic warily resumed normal service. Boy was I glad to see the gloved attendants of the customs booth of the Eurotunnel terminal. I never thought I'd ever use those words.
A few hours later I handed over the keys at Stansted, and listening to the distinctive exhaust note as it accelerated away, I realised that BMW has indeed broken a few rules in the creation of its new Convertible, but perhaps not in the way we predicted. How does it go? "She's my man. And we got all the balls we need..." Sing it with me!
Info:
Engine:
3-litre twin-turbocharged straight-six, 306bhp, 400Nm
Transmission:
6-speed manual
Acceleration:
0-100km/h 5.8 seconds
Top Speed:
250km/h (electronically limited)
Economy:
9.9 l/100km
CO2 emissions:
238 g/km
Boot Capacity:
350 litres (or 210 litres with the roof down)
Weight:
1,735kg
Base Price:
€74,850
Verdict:
Can BMW do no wrong? The 3 Series Convertible offers the best of both worlds, with minor compromises you could easily live with.
4.5 Stars
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