Last week a new Audi A6 Allroad showed up and I was into the silly pseudo-bucket seats almost before the delivery driver could get out.
I then had a brief fiddle with the air suspension before retreating to the pavement to gawp at the bulging RS6-style wheel arches, noting the incongruous Michelin Pilot Sport 5 tyres. Ridiculous fawning, given I'm not sure I'd buy one of these rare-groove Audis even after depreciation has gripped. I just can't get along with the latest generation of disjointed, unimaginative cabins. In any case, by the time prices drop to something starting with a three, diesel will cost more than olive oil.
