F56 Mini Hatch JCW- First Impressions

The beginning of August marked the start of a lengthy and tiresome insurance process, whereby my trusty and much-loved BMW 1er Coupé was written off. Oops.

I was coming into the market for a replacement vehicle anyway, so to me the difference between the words “written-off” and “sold”, was minimal (bar the £400 excess). With my insurance premium ascending up into the realms of the gods, I decided to scrap the idea of getting a new M235i and began to browse for something equally as exciting but slightly more sensible.

Arise John Cooper.

To anyone that hasn’t been to a Mini showroom before, I strongly advise visiting one. It’s the sort of thing I’d imagine my man-cave would look like, if I had one. Fluorescent lights, comfy leather sofas, and a jazzy timeline showing the legendary history of Mini. It was a huge breath of fresh air after spending the worst part of half an hour in the corduroy infested, pork-pie hat-wearing, VW dealership.

The salesman greeted me and we both sauntered outside to view the car I came to look at; A Black Mini John Cooper Works Hatch, complete with red roof. Nice.

From the outside, the car oozed cool, in the same way that the showroom did. Harking back to the 60’s styling but with just enough modern details and shiny bits to remind you that this car is a serious piece of kit, though for £27,000 it ought to be.

In the cabin the theme remained the same. The half-leather, half-alcantara JCW seats brimmed with red detailing. They’d look more at home in a £100k thoroughbred, but then again so would everything else here. Heads up display, LED lights and all manor of fancy equipment flowed off the spec sheet. The multi-textured switch gear and quality materials made it feel just as special inside as it looked from the outside, perhaps more so.

Press button to start.

At this point the sales chap decided to notify me that the particular exhaust system fitted to the car was a dealer-fitted option, and handed me an Anne Summers-esque key fob, complete with mysterious button and a warning label… I like this. Before I had time to hand it to my girlfriend for instructions the lovely salesman explained that pressing the button on the fob opens a valve in the exhaust which in turn creates loud and frequent pops, bangs and flames…. Whilst not entirely legal, it is definitely entirely cool.

The car I drove was fitted with the sports automatic gearbox; A point that most people would probably be pretty upset about. Thankfully I’m not one of those people. I do an awful lot of stop-start city driving, and the amount of driver involvement gained from a manual transmission isn’t enough for me to warrant severe muscle growth in my left leg. The auto wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough and better than good in manual mode, being quite happy for you to hold it on red line without p*ing on your parade and changing up for you, so thanks BMW.

After giving the car a couple of obligatory revs to listen to the glorious exhaust note, we set off. We’d travelled but 50ft before being greeted by the first obstacle of the afternoon: a speed bump. All occupants tensed, an optimistic speed of 10mph was held, medical teams lined up replacement pelvises and we went over.

pf pf

Shocked faces all round. This tiny (yes it is relatively tiny) hot hatch managed to absorb such a devilish spine-breaker, and in fine style too. My anusole relaxed, I gave the throttle a tickle and we shot down the road. No drama.

Some fairly boring village-ish type stuff ensued, just getting to know the car. I spent this time trying out the more placid driving modes; mid and eco. Naturally Eco was about as exciting as a plastic bag. It dulled throttled response, the steering became unnaturally light and suspensions softened thanks to the optional adaptive dampers. Mid mode offered a nice easy drive, combing the soft bits with just enough sporty stuff to remind you you’re driving a car that would actually like to be going quite quickly.

Finally we turned off 1940’s rural England and found an empty B-road. This is it.

Sport mode: ON
Silly Exhaust: ON
Grinning face: ON.

This is where the JCW truly shines. It becomes something truly special. The best car I can compare it to, would be my brothers 1997 Lotus Esprit V8. (Bare with me here). Both cars manage to make you feel insanely special, admittedly in different ways, but special all the same.

The car now warm, fired down the b-road at tremendous pace, the exhaust parped, farted and banged on every shift, setting small rodents and cyclists on fire as it passed. It made a real fuss of the speed. Not in a way that suggested that the car wasn’t capable, but in a way that made it feel alive and dramatical, like a Yorkshire Terrier with an attitude problem. The steering was direct and precise, a good weight to it too and the nice amount of feedback added to the sense of liveliness. Torque steer was apparent through the first couple of gears under hard acceleration, but nothing to worry about.

All too soon, we were off of the b-road bliss, and onto dual carriageway. Back into mid-mode the car felt quiet, smooth and refined. You wouldn’t have believed it was the same car that I was Ken Block-ing half a mile back. Cruise control set and tunes playing though the excellent Harmon-Kardon system, I was in petrolhead’s Nirvana. I don’t understand how a car can be so capable on both ends of the automotive spectrum, but I don’t care.

Nor do I care that everyone will say “it’s not a proper mini”, or that the boot is tiny, or that it is quite a lot more expensive than pretty much everything else in its’s class, (Audi S1 excluded). I don’t care about all that because it’s an absolute blast and I absolutely love it and it’s for that reason that I’m going to buy one.

Standby.

Johnny.