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Skoda Kodiaq iV SE L - long-term review - Report No:4

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Skoda Kodiaq iV SE L - long-term review - Report No:4 | Top Gear

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Having children tends to curtail the time available for long-term test car reports...

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Skoda Kodiaq iV SE L - long-term review - Report No:4

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Having children tends to curtail the time available for long-term test car reports...

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Skoda Kodiaq iV SE L - long-term review - Report No:4

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Having children tends to curtail the time available for long-term test car reports...

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Christmas and New Year exacerbates a problem. You see, if you end up with children in your life, your reports on long-term test cars follow a predictable progression, which we can broadly divide into three parts.

In Stage One, you start out like Greg, Rowan or Ollie Kew, unencumbered by life’s little darlings, so reports are interesting because you go places and do stuff. These – inevitably – end up being countryside walks and stays in cottages as long-term relationships develop, but you’re still ultimately awash with time. Take Ro’s report, a leisurely schlep around Yorkshire – and, if you follow him on Instagram, there’s a wealth of additional photos. He has not only the time to stop and take them, but to retouch them himself as well, and then post them too. I haven’t posted on social media since my daughter was born. She’s six.

He'll get a rude awakening when Stage Two comes around, which is where the likes of myself, Charlie, Jack and Andy reside, shackled by children. This is a broad bucket, stretching from those early newborn days through until, well, I can’t see the light…

But I know it’s coming, because Ollie Marriage is in Stage Three, with his young adults now at university. And that’s why he’s unrelentingly active, out camping, skiing, off-roading and chopping wood to haul in a trailer.

But back in Stage Two, we’re barely able to get our heads above water. The arrival of a new baby means reports switch to talk of Isofix. Charlie Rose is there now, and we wish him well.

Yet the rest of us in Stage Two, with children out of nappies, are no better off – and Christmas/NY doubles down on that. With schools closed, enforced childcare evaporates any chance of a decent long-term report. Even the generic family stuff you do can’t be reported on properly because you’ve incessantly got tiny humans with you. So, welcome to the worst holiday photo album ever.

Example: I haven’t got a picture to illustrate our (smug) zero-emissions run to the airport with a full boot on 15 December because it was 5.30am, dark, we were running late, and had so much luggage our daughter had to haul a suitcase herself through the car park. And I haven’t got one from the return journey either as our son was sick on the flight, meaning a camera phone snap wasn’t high on the agenda when we reached the Skoda. Plus, it was again dark and again freezing.

The following day’s six-hour expedition from the south coast to York? Hardly prime time to request an en-masse family detour for some ‘Welcome to Yorkshire’ signage. The prospect of a ‘pass out’ over Christmas when with 21 other members of family in a rented barn conversion? I didn’t dare ask. And what was the point: I’d gotten winter tyres fitted, for t’North and the cold months beyond, readied a few tired cliches like ‘winter weapon’ – and then it was a balmy 12 degrees the morning after Santa had been. Sure, I’ve a picture of the sipes in the tread, and of the sticker that tells me not to exceed 150mph (20mph above the official top speed…) but no snow.

Thick fog and freezing rain of course put paid to the return journey, so all I have to report is, when you’re away from home, not charging and getting through fuel more regularly than usual, needing a switch to open the fuel filler cap starts to grate. The corresponding picture is a real humdinger.

So, this month I present to you the Skoda Kodiaq at Centre Parcs, our brief respite with just the four of us at the end of the holidays. Only who knew you couldn’t keep your car with you? Hence the snatched picture between unloading to our lodge and heading off to rent a bike. Other fascinating updates include the fact I parked near a VW ID. Buzz, while another grey Kodiaq in the car park looked better with the blacked out D-pillar.

So, here’s to 2030, when my son turns 10 and you’ll be inundated with pictures of paddleboards and golf clubs.

# data.attributes.body.processed
Christmas and New Year exacerbates a problem. You see, if you end up with children in your life, your reports on long-term test cars follow a predictable progression, which we can broadly divide into three parts.

In Stage One, you start out like Greg, Rowan or Ollie Kew, unencumbered by life’s little darlings, so reports are interesting because you go places and do stuff. These – inevitably – end up being countryside walks and stays in cottages as long-term relationships develop, but you’re still ultimately awash with time. Take Ro’s report, a leisurely schlep around Yorkshire – and, if you follow him on Instagram, there’s a wealth of additional photos. He has not only the time to stop and take them, but to retouch them himself as well, and then post them too. I haven’t posted on social media since my daughter was born. She’s six.

He'll get a rude awakening when Stage Two comes around, which is where the likes of myself, Charlie, Jack and Andy reside, shackled by children. This is a broad bucket, stretching from those early newborn days through until, well, I can’t see the light…

But I know it’s coming, because Ollie Marriage is in Stage Three, with his young adults now at university. And that’s why he’s unrelentingly active, out camping, skiing, off-roading and chopping wood to haul in a trailer.

But back in Stage Two, we’re barely able to get our heads above water. The arrival of a new baby means reports switch to talk of Isofix. Charlie Rose is there now, and we wish him well.

Yet the rest of us in Stage Two, with children out of nappies, are no better off – and Christmas/NY doubles down on that. With schools closed, enforced childcare evaporates any chance of a decent long-term report. Even the generic family stuff you do can’t be reported on properly because you’ve incessantly got tiny humans with you. So, welcome to the worst holiday photo album ever.

Example: I haven’t got a picture to illustrate our (smug) zero-emissions run to the airport with a full boot on 15 December because it was 5.30am, dark, we were running late, and had so much luggage our daughter had to haul a suitcase herself through the car park. And I haven’t got one from the return journey either as our son was sick on the flight, meaning a camera phone snap wasn’t high on the agenda when we reached the Skoda. Plus, it was again dark and again freezing.

The following day’s six-hour expedition from the south coast to York? Hardly prime time to request an en-masse family detour for some ‘Welcome to Yorkshire’ signage. The prospect of a ‘pass out’ over Christmas when with 21 other members of family in a rented barn conversion? I didn’t dare ask. And what was the point: I’d gotten winter tyres fitted, for t’North and the cold months beyond, readied a few tired cliches like ‘winter weapon’ – and then it was a balmy 12 degrees the morning after Santa had been. Sure, I’ve a picture of the sipes in the tread, and of the sticker that tells me not to exceed 150mph (20mph above the official top speed…) but no snow.

Thick fog and freezing rain of course put paid to the return journey, so all I have to report is, when you’re away from home, not charging and getting through fuel more regularly than usual, needing a switch to open the fuel filler cap starts to grate. The corresponding picture is a real humdinger.

So, this month I present to you the Skoda Kodiaq at Centre Parcs, our brief respite with just the four of us at the end of the holidays. Only who knew you couldn’t keep your car with you? Hence the snatched picture between unloading to our lodge and heading off to rent a bike. Other fascinating updates include the fact I parked near a VW ID. Buzz, while another grey Kodiaq in the car park looked better with the blacked out D-pillar.

So, here’s to 2030, when my son turns 10 and you’ll be inundated with pictures of paddleboards and golf clubs.

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1498cc 4cyl turbo petrol + e-motor and 25.7kWh battery

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The Skoda Kodiaq had a Christmas break at Centre Parcs

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Having children tends to curtail the time available for long-term test car reports...

# data.attributes.field_sub_title
The Skoda Kodiaq had a Christmas break at Centre Parks

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Usage and meaning of the 'virtual' resource identifier.