Does Size Matter? (Hint: It's A BIG Deal)

Not that anyone’s jealous, ‘course, but Alex is a lucky lad recently, isn’t he? This week our resident Mr Universe has been tooling around in the best sports car on the planet: the Porsche Cayman R. His white lightning was even better than the puke-green one I drove this summer, too, because it had a manly manual, not a twin-clutch PDK (original comment removed by Editor).

The Cayman, even in base form, is a blinder for lots of reasons, but one above all others makes it the best sports car out there. It’s a trait it shares with the excellent BMW M135i which, wouldn’t ya know it, Alex Kerstenaegger hooned last week. So, what am I singing the praises of. Can’t be normally-aspirated engines. Or two-seaters. Could be rear wheel-drive… but it ain’t. It’s size, or the lack thereof.

Yes, yes, cars are getting bigger, but that’s okay these days, because at long bloody last, they’re also getting lighter, A lot lighter. Some of the diets have been so unrealistically anorexic you’d swear some cars need a Channel 5 documentary about them filmed on the double. New Audi A3, bright lights and all – 100kg lighter. New Golf? Over 100kg off. New Range Rover? A ridiculous 420kg in the body structure alone. Before you add the better engines and nattier wheels.

I’ve got nothing but praise for the lightness game, because cars are faster, more fun, and cheaper to run when they’re carrying less puppy fat. But if they keep expanding, we’re backing ourselves into a new corner. The roads aren’t getting any bigger, and we’re running out of space to play.

I’ve been sideways (not while driving, admittedly) in a 552bhp BMW M5 at about 90mph. It was quite an experience, but because the new Five is as long as an old 7-series, the car took up two full lanes (on the er, private racetrack, officer) and had its rear overhang dangling over the grass verge. Now compare that to the M135i, which is a 1-series on steroids. No it’s not as quick, and your mates don’t have as much room to canoodle in the back, but sod them. You have more of the road to use, more to chuck the car into, more to dance about in, and more room for error. And hey, it’s easier to park and less effort to wash.

Okay, some humans are getting bigger too, and we have more gadgets and gear to carry around, but it’d be great if cars could team getting less dense with getting, well, just less of them altogether. It can be done too – it’s not just stuff like a shonky little Ford Puma which makes a Suzuki Swift Sport feel like an MPV. The Cayman is narrow and pointy, like the animal it shares its name with, as is the fan-bleeding-tastic Skoda Citigo and its VW/Seat twins. Its smallness above everything else is what makes it a great city driver AND fun on country lanes too. It’s everything you need, and nothing you don’t. Take that, Audi A3 marketing people.

And do you want to know the ironic thing? The next Cayman will get wider, longer and butcher, like the latest Porsche Boxster. Which is probably the best redesign of anything on planet Earth since, well this…

It looks amazing, and the new Cayman will just nick that gorgeous design and strap a proper roof on. And I’ll love it. Hypocrite, moi?

There’ll be less space to play though. So I’ll be keeping an eye on used Caymans and starting my decade-long saving scheme. Small is beautiful, people. Isn’t that right, Kerstenator?