Audi S7: Worth the V8
At relaxed rpms, the S7 is improbably smooth – it will take some amount of psychic powers coupled with a crystal ball to tell what’s under the hood. Indeed, one of the journalists on the drive commented that it felt like “a bloody electric car!” and he wasn’t exaggerating. It’s thanks to the Cylinder-on-Demand system that the S7 employs – essentially, it makes do with four cylinders until it needs the other four to prevent its driver from falling asleep. And when it does, it fills the cabin with a deep rumble that sounds as if it’s being generated by Mother Nature rather than a piece of German engineering. What a sound.
Rolling along on the German motorway, sat in the middle lane at a content 130kph, the S7 feels as eventful as an old age home at night. The road is so boring, I resort to counting the number of German cars that I pass. By the time I decide that Germans like to buy German and that their roads and cars look like a ‘Transporter’ movie minus the carnage, I realise that counting cars is the same as counting sheep.