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I've been blown away by plenty of motors in my time and underwhelmed by a whole lot more, but on reflection, the cars that have left the most memorable impressions on me have been the slow burners.
You know the type I'm talking about. It most likely wasn't your first choice, it probably seemed pretty mundane on the go-and-show front and chances are it was as basic inside as a Blackpool B&B.
Despite the lack of wow though, it somehow managed to get under your skin, so when it came time to let go you did so with more than a tinge of regret. Well, that's exactly how I'm feeling as our Cupra Leon heads off to pastures new.
If there were any negatives during my tenure they were few and far between.
Sure, the USC ports provided a flimsier hold on my phone lead than a politician's grasp on reality and the complex touchscreen interactions, common to almost all VW Group products, were never going to resolve themselves, so I just accepted these foibles and ploughed on regardless. Well, I would have, had the unsolicited Alexa voice interactions not become increasingly frequent, to the point where I exhausted every expletive known to man trying to convince it that I did not require its assistance.
Other than that and despite the best efforts of the lustrous blood-red paint to lift the vibe, the only other negative I can recount related to the Leon's rather insipid styling. To my eyes it is just too generic, so much so, if you changed the badge and squinted, it could easily be mistaken for a Ford Focus or any number of current hatchbacks.
Aesthetics aside, and given it is based on a variation of the platform which underpins so many VW Group products, including its in-house Seat sibling, the chances of Cupra's Leon being a howler were slim to none. I've had plenty of experience driving the various suspension incarnations that underpin these products and the Leon is right up with the best of them. This is a huge feather in Cupra's cap, as the Leon rides on the most basic suspension and does without the perceived advantage of variable dampers. Proof positive, that providing the person heading up the chassis team knows their onions, a rudimentary set-up can be tuned to deliver a cohesive balance of comfort and control.
I could heap just as much praise on the steering. It is light enough to make city street manoeuvres a breeze and it weights up intuitively as speeds increase. Even with the slightly weightier sport mode selected, it manages to retain a degree of precision and avoids the hang-a-sack-of-spuds-on-it approach that mars many rivals.
Reading through the spec sheet before I took delivery, I did have some reservations regarding the 1.5-litre engine's seemingly tepid 150hp output, but I needn't have worried. Obviously, the initial power delivery isn't as forceful or as instantaneous as an EV, but because the turbocharger is assisted by a 48V starter generator, it is the next best thing. Delivering the vast majority of its pulling torque from the get-go, with zero hints of turbo lag, this ensures the Leon is extremely easy to drive in traffic and because the auto seven-speed twin-clutch transmission snaps through the ratios at the ideal juncture in the rev range, the engine delivers the most efficient use of every available horsepower. Couple this to the cylinder deactivation and the transmission's ability to decouple itself from the engine, allowing the Leon to coast as if in neutral, and I found myself managing mid-forties mpg, and when conditions dictated, I even strayed into the fifties.
Our Leon may have come with the most basic V1 trim, but I never found myself feeling short-changed on the features count - does anyone really need night vision cameras? - with standard climate control, a heated steering wheel, comfortable, supportive seats and a pleasing mix of high-quality materials, including copper and chrome highlights, the base-level Cupra has all the vitals covered. I also found this basics-is-best approach to be a real positive regarding the steering wheel layout, which features traditional-style switches and rotary scrolling thumb wheels, rather than the slick-looking but frustratingly fiddly haptic switchgear found in pricier VW products.
That's the thing about the Leon, in many ways it's like the Waitrose Essentials range, it may come in an uninspiring wrapper but the product within is surprisingly good, and that will more than do for me.
I've been a road tester for more years than I care to remember and in that time, I must have driven thousands of cars. Indeed, I can think back to one particular decade when I seldom, if ever, drove the same car on consecutive days.
Yes, there are one or two murky patches in the old grey matter but if you asked me to reminisce about a car, I appraised way back in the day I could probably still manage to give you a half-decent summary.
Obviously, some motors are easier to recall than others, such as the ground-breaking original Ford Focus and the game-changing BMW E39 5 Series, as well as rolling nightmares like the tearaway TVR Tuscan and the retina-shaking Saab 900 convertible. That said, I reckon many hidden gems are the motors I have to dredge my memory bank to recall, and I wouldn't mind betting that in a few years' time the Cupra Leon will slot nicely into this category.
This is because cars like the Leon and its kindred spirits are so darn competent and go about their daily duties with such effortless aplomb they all too often get taken for granted. I've certainly been guilty of this heinous crime recently, which no doubt explains why the Leon's gleaming effervescent-red paintwork has been languishing under a combination of grime and tree sap and its interior has begun to resemble, and pong, like a teenager's bedroom.
In my defence, I've been a wee bit rammed of late, trying to balance work commitments alongside regular trips up North to supervise family affairs, as well as labouring away at various DIY projects for my two daughters. If only one of them had had the foresight to marry a plumber or a brickie instead of a pen pusher. Anyway, regardless of my hectic schedule, I have always been able to rely on my trusty Spanish assistant and despite a lack of TLC and much-needed ablutions, the Leon continues to perform almost flawlessly.
Obviously, the infotainment system is still a wee bit sketchy and the USC ports are increasingly less reliable as they inevitably begin to lose their grip on my phone lead. Show me the individual who thought these infernal devices were a better bet than a perfectly good USB port and I'll show you a miscreant who thinks a bottle of Blue Nun is the equal of a magnum of 1983 Chablis Grand Cru.
Not that these little irritants have dulled my respect for the Leon, and I'm not alone in my admiration. Pulling up next to an identically coloured Seat Leon FR in my local supermarket car park, the owner was only too eager to tell me of her love for her current charge and was intrigued to know more about the subtle differences between our two cars, especially why the Cupra didn't have a Leon badge on its rump? Although the lack of nomenclature stumped us both and neither could claim to possess encyclopaedic knowledge of the more in-depth aspects of each model's features, between us, we concluded that subtle stylistic differences aside, the Cupra comes with a heated steering wheel and rides on larger 18-inch alloys, while the Seat makes do with 17-inch items and misses out on the mitt warmers.
More pertinently, the Cupra's P11D is around £1400 higher than the Seat's, which seems a fairly steep premium for a few splashes of copper and chrome trim, slightly bigger rims and some toasty digits.
Although the starry-eyed Seat owner couldn't explain what it was that enthralled her so about her Leon, it was enough to know that she simply loved it. None of this surprised me really, as it has been my experience that this kind of blind devotion is not uncommon among people who have little or no interest in what makes a certain brand of car better than another and end up buying or leasing a VW group product almost by accident. Now, I certainly wasn't about to turn nasal-toned anorak and start delivering a diatribe re kinetic dynamics so instead, I resolved to nutshelled matters by telling her that because so much time and effort had gone into ensuring every individual component was tuned and balanced to complement the next, by people who understood how this process produces a car that delivers easy drivability, and therefore by association, makes a car constructed in this way, a safer car. Halfway through my exaltations, however, I observed a certain glazed expression taking hold, so I quickly grabbed my anorak made good my excuses and beat a hasty retreat, much to her obvious relief.
Despite the fact it would take an orthopaedic surgeon to part them from their mobile phones, it still amazes me how so many people are shocked whenever they are targeted by product-specific ads. Personally, I'm not fazed by the more intrusive aspects of technology, as I see it as part and parcel of the price we inevitably pay for such easy connectivity. Just recently, however, I have been feeling a wee bit spooked by our long-term Cupra Leon.
Now I'm all for voice activation, as I am convinced pressing a single button and asking for whatever feature I require is by far the safest way of negotiating the Leon's cornucopia of infotainment menus. In an ideal world I'd like to see voice command go even further. For instance, how cool would it be if one could instantly summon up a vehicle's sport setting just as the road turns twisty with a vocal request. As things stand, struggling to find the relevant screen menu and activate the sports mode while I'm sawing at the wheel is not a great idea - and even if I were to persist with this convoluted quest, nine times out of 10 the twisty stuff is likely to have evaporated by the time I engaged the relevant selection. Software engineers of the world I await your response.
On the other hand, I'm not that keen on the way the Leon thinks it is acceptable to unilaterally spark up a conversation. To be honest, my first experience of this unsolicited interjection was rather amusing as it coincided with an indignant outburst on my behalf when a fellow road user abruptly cut across my bows. Checked short by a placidly toned 'sorry, I didn't quite catch that', I couldn't help but giggle, so I guess I could regard this synthetically generated utterance as a stress-busting aid and therefore an additional road safety feature. Even so, I still prefer to be the one instigating the interactions rather than being chastised by some ghost in the machine on an AI learning curve.
Although not quite as surprising, some aspects of the Leon's electronic systems can be a wee bit thought-provoking, such as the inconsistency of the parking sensors. The rear sensors, which are supplemented by a reversing camera, are calibrated much as you might expect, steadily increasing in frequency and volume as the Leon's rump edges closer to whatever inanimate object lies behind. These audible and visual aids are supported by emergency brake assist and on a couple of occasions when I've been a wee bit quick on the draw with the reverse selector, the brakes have slammed on, preventing me from taking a lump out of the Leon's back end. In my defence, I feel I was only partially responsible for these near misses because when the auto-braking function is engaged - not to be confused with emergency brake assist - it does take a fair bit of initial accelerator pedal input to overcome the brake pad's grasp. Consequently, I've resolved to use the autobrake only when sitting in stop-start traffic where it saves me sitting with my foot resting on the brake pedal, and disabling it before trying to extricate the Leon from any tight confines. Perversely, it seems like the person who set up the front sensors has never met the bloke who signed off the rears, as the nose of the Leon needs to be almost sniffing the obstacle in front before summoning up a warning beep.
Speaking of sniffing, as the temperatures have risen lately, I've found myself drawn to a more florid deodorant and relying increasingly on the Leon's punchy climate control. Once again, I'm inclined to use the voice control to adjust the cool aid rather than delve into the touchscreen or fiddle with the dash-mounted hot and cold haptic switches, which can be frustratingly hit and miss. Obviously, I still need to adjust the direction of the cooling breeze manually via the horizontal slotted vents and, although these are effective, if angled too much towards my core, this closes them and cuts off the air flow. I won't tell you how long I drove around in baking hot conditions thinking there was a problem with the cooling system. Doh!
In all though, I continue to be mightily impressed by the Leon's long list of virtues, and who knows, the occasional spiritual prompt from the other side may even help me to moderate my language.
The natural cynic in me inevitably means I find it is easier to muster a diatribe of negatives to describe a poor car than I do to summon up a slew of sugary syllables to critique a motor which is close to flawless. That's probably why I find it a bit of a struggle to pontificate about our long-term Cupra Leon. Not that I'm saying the Leon is perfect, but it does tick a hell of a lot of boxes.
For instance, without even trying, I generally get mid-to-high forties mpg out of its 1.5-litre petrol engine, which is pretty impressive, given it is being driven by a bloke with a notoriously impatient right foot. What's more, on a recent sojourn to France, with nothing but miles of soporific emerald green countryside and the relaxing tones of a chill-out live-lounge podcast for company, I managed to eke out a diesel rivalling 58mpg. I have to admit there were a couple of persuasive contributors to my loud pedal abstinence and my resultant record-breaking returns, including the countless average speed cameras which populate northern Normandy and the nearly 2 euro per litre price tag of French E10 unleaded. Really though, achieving this type of return wasn't that difficult, as the Leon has a whole raft of economy measures built into its DNA. These include the ability to run on just two cylinders, in some cases up to 80mph/130km, and a transmission which insists on disconnecting itself from the engine at every available opportunity, effectively allowing the Leon to freewheel as the engine idles.
From a refinement perspective, the way the transmission cuts out and then reconnects is impressively seamless, while the engine's stop-start regime, except for the initial cold start first thing in the morning, is as quiet and as vibration free as any I've encountered.
I've lauded the ride and handling aspects of the Leon in previous reports and nothing has happened to change my opinion. I still find the steering sweetly weighted and responsive, and the suspension's balance between comfort and control is particularly effective.
Despite the engine's modest output, so far, I haven't struggled for performance. Whether that be driving in traffic, where the additional initial shove from the small belt-connected electric motor aids the engine's initial reactions, or at higher revs where the engine provides plenty of overtaking grunt. If I really extend matters, then the engine note can get a wee bit strained but because of the strong mid-range torque that is readily available, I seldom find myself straying into the thrashier numbers on the rev counter.
If there is a slight fly in the Leon's driving ointment, it is the inconsistent reactions of the brake pedal. Now the Leon is by no means unique in this respect, as most cars, with regenerative aspects to their braking systems suffer similar issues. To be fair, it can't be easy developing the software required to marry a fly-by-wire braking system's electric recharging requirements and friction braking requirements and still retain a consistent pedal feel. The processing power alone required to recognise the speed and ferocity of a driver's braking inputs and decide whether a first response should be to prioritise the recharge generator, or to ignore that strategy in favour of a more forceful brake interaction must be nothing short of mind-boggling.
I particularly like the Leon's driving position, which, thanks to the wide range of steering wheel and seating adjustments enables me to dial in a perfect perch. Unlike many rear-wheel drive cars, which accommodate intrusive gearboxes, causing offset pedal box arrangements, the Leon's front-wheel drive layout frees up loads of space in the footwell, allowing the pedals to be aligned perfectly with the steering wheel and plenty of room for a wide footrest.
The driver's seat also comes close to blending the ideal combination of support and comfort, and the simple twist lever lower lumbar support is a nice touch. That said perhaps a little bit more padding in the cushion wouldn't go amiss, as I have noticed a touch of derrière numbness on a couple of sustained mileage journeys. Even so, I'll gladly take that over some of the vice-like seats fitted to many sportier models, which although looking great, restrict movements and inevitably bring on the onset of early backache. Boy, I'm certainly showing my age now.
Last month I recounted the sorry tale of how our box-fresh Cupra Leon had been duffed up by some brute in a ratty old Range Rover and how, despite the reprobate's best efforts to abscond without so much as a by-your-leave, the eagle-eyed ladies of Weybridge were having none of it.
Although I've yet to receive any feedback re the outcome of subsequent enquiries by the boys in blue, I'm confident that given the promptness of their response and the seriousness they appeared to attach to this kind of anti-social behaviour, the culprit will have had his collar felt by now.
This incident took place around three weeks ago, and while the Leon was at the menders having its nose straightened and its resplendent red metallic paintwork reinstated, the guys at Cupra were kind enough to lend me a 310hp Formentor rocket ship to run around in.
Now as much as I'm a fan of the Formentor, having enjoyed running one for six months, albeit a less powerful plug-in hybrid version, I must admit I wasn't particularly disappointed to hand the keys back when the Leon returned from its bout of cosmetic surgery.
Now you may be thinking perhaps it's time to put the old boy out to pasture as he has obviously lost his marbles, given the Formentor has more than twice the power and produces bags more performance than the Leon, but hear me out.
As much as I appreciate the raucous performance and the aural delights of the Formentor's bellowing exhaust, I also know that when it comes to motors less is often more, and in many cases, the supposedly lesser lights are all the sweeter for it.
Granted, we're not comparing apples with apples here, because despite sharing the same basic platform architecture as well as many mechanical components, the most formidable Formentor employs a highly-tuned 2.0-litre engine, a sophisticated rear suspension layout and it hurls its power at the road surface via a traction boosting four-wheel drive system. Compare this to the Leon's which looks like a relative Luddite, sending its modest 150hp output to the blacktop exclusively through the front wheels and soaking up rear-end bumps via a rudimentary axle and it looks like a total miss-match.
The thing is though, because the Leon sits lower to the road and is unencumbered by the weight of four-wheel drive gubbins and is blessed with sweetly weighted steering responses and grip levels akin to a tube of Fixodent, it feels the more alert of the two cars.
The Leon is also a good deal more tractable due to its mild hybrid 48-volt electric motor assistance and precisely calibrated lightly blown turbocharger and high-pressure fuel injection. Consequently, its 1.5-litre motor is hot-to-trot from the get-go, effortlessly zipping onto roulette wheel rush-hour roundabouts and instantly responding with a solid blast of acceleration when asked to merge with swiftly flowing traffic.
Sure the Formentor is ultimately a good deal faster, always providing you can find the type of roads where you can exploit its hammer blow brio but at the same time its bigger turbocharger takes a fair bit of winding up, so even when given a sadistic right boot vital milliseconds are lost waiting for all that power to be manufactured and then unleased and consequently it can often feel quite laggy, leaving you somewhat exposed when encountering the type of choked traffic conditions where the Leon really excels.
The Formentor will also leave your wallet feeling pretty exposed. On a recent 650-mile, predominately motorway trip to Newcastle and back the Formentor set about gobbling unleaded at a rate of between 30 and 35mpg. Although I've yet to tackle a similarly extended jaunt in the Leon, my varied toing and froings have seen the digital readout averaging high forties mpg, therefore I'd be astonished if the Leon didn't better the Formentor's returns by a good 10mpg.
I'll whisper my last point this month very quietly because somehow the blow to the Leon's nose seems to have coincided with a distinct improvement in the attitude of its infotainment system. Of course, it's still a pain to machete a path through its jungle of menus but touch wood it has worked pretty flawlessly since its return, performing every requested function without quibble. It even appears to have learned to interpret Geordie into English when I use the dictation function to reply to text messages while I'm driving. Of course, you can pretty much guarantee I've just jinxed matters now that I've mentioned it. I'll keep you posted.
To the casual observer, the whole Cupra-Seat relationship may seem like a bit of a conundrum.
In essence, the long-term plan is for Cupra to become a wholly electric brand and we've already seen the genesis of this strategy with cars such as the Cupra Born as well as the Tavascan and Urban Rebel concepts.
Where this leaves Seat, really is anyone's guess.
As for Cupra, things are still a wee bit fuzzy, with bespoke models such as the Formentor and Born sitting cheek-by-jowl with the Leon and Ateca, which are effectively Seats in posh party frocks.
On the surface then the Leon appears to be little more than a tinselled piece of badge engineering enhanced by marketing puff, but none of this detracts from the fact that it is an absolute crackerjack of a motor car.
The Leon we'll be testing for the next six months may be a humble entry model, but it is powered by a gem of a 1.5-litre 150hp four-cylinder engine linked to a rapid-shift DSG twin-clutch auto. Now you may be thinking 150 ponies doesn't sound particularly feisty but because the engine is so ably assisted by a rapidly spooling turbocharger and automatic twin-clutch's gear ratios are perfectly calibrated, the power delivery is available from walking speeds and the revs climb smoothly and in an impressively linear fashion. The engine produces a discreet, yet throaty low-rev soundtrack, when operating in its cylinder deactivation mode and the DSG transmission can decouple itself from the engine, dropping engine revs to idle and allowing the Leon to coast on downhill inclines. Just as impressively, when the engine is re-engaged it does so in an imperceptible fashion.
These eco assistants have certainly contributed positively to my early returns, which are hovering around the mid-40s for mpg and given the price of unleaded I'll gladly take every trick in the book to make savings wherever possible.
If anything, the Leon's ride is a little on the sharp side, which is probably a by-product of the basic rear axle fitted to lower-powered Leons but the handling is hard to fault thanks to masses of grip from the 18-inch tyres, a relatively low centre of gravity, excellent body control and neatly weighted steering. Really, things are so well-controlled in bends, I go as far as to say, this basic Leon would give many a 2000s hot hatch a good run for its money on the handling front.
The entry V1 may be basic, but it comes with most essentials, including climate control, comfortable supportive seats, and a pleasing mix of high-quality materials with signature Cupra smatterings of copper and chrome trim. It even has a heated steering wheel, with traditional-style switches and rotary scrolling thumb wheels, which I find preferable and far less likely to be operated inadvertently than the clumsy haptic switchgear found in pricier Cupras.
Speaking of the latest generation of toys, the Leon also has the most up-to-date version of the Volkswagen group touchscreen infotainment system. The bad news is it's every bit as sketchy as the previous incarnations, thanks to its labyrinth of operating menus and hit-and-miss operation. Any thoughts I may have had that this version may at least prove more reliable than the previous versions I've encountered lasted all of three days before the software spat the dummy out and spiralled into a none communicating sulk.
Two days later and I was doing the sulking as some miscreant reversed his Range Rover into the front of the Leon then absconded without thought of the damage he had caused. Although I didn't see the incident personally, two public-spirited ladies did and both left notes on my windscreen telling me what they'd observed, and more crucially, the reg of the offending Range Rover. Although the damage seems superficial, with so many camera alignments informing the Leon's suite of safety systems, it'll be interesting to see if anything more than a pot of touch-up paint is required to return the Leon to pristine condition. Regardless of the remedial action required, I'd like to send a big thank you to Joanna from 'Weybridge Vets' and Maria from 'The Beauty of Weybridge' and felicitations to the driver of the Range Rover who should be expecting a visit from Constable Greendale in the very near future.
Standard equipment:
18in alloy wheels, climate control, sports seats, heated sports steering wheel with shift paddles, LED headlights, LED tail lights, digital configurable cockpit, 12in touchscreen, four USB type-C ports, sat-nav, smartphone integration including Mirror Link, Apple Carplay, Android Auto.
Options:
Metallic paint (£870)
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