There are a few characteristics hard-coded into the Cooper S convertible that have the potential to annoy.
Space is the obvious one. There isn’t much of it. Rear passenger leg space is genuinely non-existent. For any adult to assume a comfortable driving position, the front seat will be right up against the rear bolster. And that turns those rear seats into no more than a well-padded parcel rack complete with handy seat belts to prevent the shopping flying about. Boot space, even in the tin-top Cooper, is limited — in the convertible it’s more akin to a rear cubby-hole than anything approaching a boot.
The interior ergonomics are also irritating. It all looks gorgeous, make no mistake. A development of the previous gen car, the body colour-matching interior panels and aircraft-style toggle switches are lovely, as is the new oversized speedo sitting in the middle of the dash and the tach on the steering column. Problem is the toggles and buttons appear to have been randomly scattered about. No doubt, the white coats in Munich have put serious thought into said placement — I just couldn’t get to grips with. Either my intuition has gone AWOL, or the Germans and I aren’t on the same wavelength here.
Then there’s the hard ride. BMW have fettled the suspension on the new car and it’s supposed to be a little softer than the last one. And it is. A little. The MacPherson strut front suspension and multilink rear setup is more forgiving than the previous gen, but this is still a small car, with a small wheelbase, a wheel in each corner and a very enthusiastic engine. Add to that 17-inch alloys with low-profile run-flats and you have a vehicle determined to transfer every single imperfection on the road (and here in South Africa that equals a lot) straight up your spine.
But, like me, odds are you won’t give an S about all that stuff!
The Cooper S is such fun to drive that all those compromises — significant ones by any standard — are relegated to the rank of quirky little foibles. We’re not talking about “fun to drive” in the way that, say, driving a beach buggy is fun. It’s not a wind-in-the-hair, summery-vibe issue. The Coop’s fun factor stems from the way it performs on the road. It’s the way it accelerates, the way it throws itself into corners and hauls ass out the other side — it’s like holding the reigns of a pocket-rocket racehorse. Put your foot down and it shimmies and rears up as the engine strain to transfer all 128kW through the front wheels, but then it’s off like a slingshot sniffing out cambered corners to lean into and hairpins to exercise its precise six-speed gearbox.
The 1,6-litre turbo mill is an absolute corker. Only off the line is there a whisper of turbo lag, but from then on the car’s impressive low-down torque keeps it on the boil as the turbo rapidly spools up. Look, it’s not a genuine sportscar kind of speed — it’ll do 0-100kph in about 7,5 seconds and top out at just more than 220kph — but those stats for a car with this kind of wired-directly-into-your-brain ability is more than enough. Especially when you switch on the Sport button. And especially when you switch off the stability and traction control. The former will sharpen up the throttle response and steering, while the latter will stop the DSC choking off the power whenever those hardworking front wheels lose a little grip.
Simply put, there’s no better car available in South Africa for smile-on-your-dial, point-and-squirt motoring. Thing is, I wouldn’t buy it. And for reasons: one, I’d rather get the hard top; and, two, for what it is, it’s very, very expensive.
Sure, performance wise, the convert does everything the hard top does. The chassis is as stiff and there is none of the scuttle ‘n squeak usually present when a car has its head lopped off. What you — or perhaps I should say “I” because this is subjective — simply cannot escape, is the Knob Factor.
It’s the reason I love the Aston Martin V8 Vantage Coupe, but not the Roadster — same goes for the Ferrari F430 and its Spider sibling. In fact, it pretty much applies to every convertible sportscar. You see, people see you driving by in your swanky convertible and they all say — or at least think — the same thing: “what a knob!”
It’s that extrovert, look-at-me-and-bear-witness-to-my-wonderful-lifeness that really gets up our collective noses. Yes, there’s an element of jealousy involved, I’ll concede that, but mixed in is the knowledge that if you’re really serious about sportscars you’d accept no compromise and get the hard top.
Then there’s the sticker price of R327 500. Holy moly, that is a lot of cash for a 1,6-litre hatch. The previous model was in the R250 000 ballpark, if memory serves, and that was already pretty damn pricey. The extra R77 000 pushes it way over what’s decent.
If it’s a Mini that you want (which I do, I do, I really do) and you have a pile of money of the requisite height (which, sadly, I don’t), get yourself the Cooper JWC. The John Cooper Works “only” cost R299 500, it has 155Kw, 260Nm of torque and, most importantly, it has a roof.
FAST FACTS
Mini Cooper S Convertible
Engine
1,6-litre turbo, 4 cyl, 128kW, 240Nm (man/auto)
Performance (claimed)
0-100kph in 7,4 seconds, top speed 222kph
Fuel consumption (claimed combined cycle)
7,2 litre/100km
Transmission
Six-speed man or six-speed auto with Steptronic
Safety
- Active roll-over bar. Sensors detect risk of roll-over and the bar springs up behind the rear seats in milliseconds.
- Airbags. Front passengers get head/thorax and side airbags.
- DSC as standard. Dynamic Traction Control (DTC) and Electronic Differential Lock Control (EDLC) are options.
- ABS with Cornering Brake Control, Electronic Brakeforce Distribution and Brake Assist Standard standard
- Runflat tyres as option