Audi A6 Sportback e-Tron - long-term review

In 2012, the AA conducted a poll of 6,000 parents. It found that a third of them were spending up to 49 hours a month ferrying their children around by car.

While that survey is fairly old now, I can’t imagine the numbers have dropped — if anything, I’d wager that third is closer to a half today. It certainly feels that way in our household. The “taxi of Mum and Dad” is very real, and worst of all, my service is completely free.

There is, however, a silver lining. Aside from the countless hours spent watching sporting fixtures, all that intense ferrying of offspring is the ideal stress-test for a family car. So, is the A6 the perfect taxi wagon? It’s close, but it has its faults…

If you’re going to spend hours behind the wheel, comfort and user-friendliness is a non-negotiable. This A6 e-tron delivers comfort in abundance, but the ergonomics are a mixed bag.

The seats may be basic — no electric controls (old school, I know) — but they strike a fine balance between support and that sink-in, lounge-chair effect. The white leather adds a welcome sense of light and airiness to the cabin, but is hardly practical for intensive family wear-and-tear.

It’s not just the seats that lean toward simplicity; the steering wheel does too. Thin-rimmed and generously sized in diameter, it suits the relaxed driving style this car encourages. In fact, it calls to mind the classic wheels of the Audi 100— understated, elegant, and designed for effortless cruising rather than aggressive inputs. I love it.

Despite this, the touch-sensitive digital controls on the wheel are infuriating, often causing me to accidentally crank up my “dad music” to full volume — much to the annoyance of my Gen Alpha passengers. And it seems Audi has recognised that was a cock-up. I notice inside the new Audi RS5, it’s reverted to proper toggle buttons. A welcome return to tactile common sense.

While we’re on the subject of controls, Audi has consolidated the lights, wing mirror adjustments and locking functions into a single panel on the driver’s door. Initially, I found the repositioning of the light controls particularly irritating. After what feels like centuries of them residing either on the indicator stalk or as a rotary knob by the steering wheel, muscle memory didn’t adapt overnight.

Now that I’m used to it, it does begin to make a certain sense having everything grouped together. But is it actually safer? Having to glance down to operate them (with no raised buttons, just a smooth touch-sensitive panel) feels more distracting than the old, tactile setup.

Another piece of muscle memory I’m wrestling with is the seat-sensitive auto start. I constantly find myself climbing in and instinctively pressing the start-stop button, thereby turning the car off, so conditioned am I to physically starting an engine. It’s a small thing, but it speaks to how deeply ingrained certain driving rituals are.

The main multimedia display is huge — as seems to be the norm these days — but it wraps around the driver neatly, creating a cocooned, driver-focused feel rather than simply looking like a tablet glued to the dashboard. Functionality is straightforward — arguably simpler than a BMW’s similar system — and key controls such as heating remain permanently accessible on-screen, regardless of which menu you’re in.

I’m less convinced by the digital dash. The graphic showing a visualisation of the rear of the car and surrounding traffic feels distracting and, if I’m honest, a little pointless. I should be using my mirrors — and I do — but I’m already finding all-round visibility slightly compromised. The relatively shallow front windscreen pushes the driver further back from the A-pillars, while the swoopy, aero-obsessed rear results in a narrow back window that limits rearward vision.

And there’s no rear wiper. Why? In poor weather it renders rear visibility almost impossible, leaving you heavily reliant on cameras and sensors. For a car that excels at comfort and long-distance usability, that feels like a surprising oversight. And don’t give me the excuse that it’s “super slippery” and water simply slides off — perhaps it does, but dirt certainly doesn’t. In fact, I’m finding it a very tricky shape to keep clean.

Of course, if you were a professional taxi driver, you’d probably want to know about boot space and mpg. For that, you’ll have to tune in again for the next instalment — I’ve brought in a diesel Avant to see whether we’ve made the wrong choice.

If you can’t wait until then, you’ll find me at the parent taxi rank…