Dear DS 5, when we first met, I was captivated. You had a beauty that no other car on the market could offer, something unique and distinctive. The contours around your entire body captured the eye, flowing from the two chrome sabres up front right round to the twin chrome exhausts at the back. Getting hold of your keys was a proud moment.
Slipping inside, the sumptuous leather enveloped me, and whoever else was with me, in a dark and stylish cabin. The optional watchstrap leather added to the ambience, while a gloriously styled dashboard gave me plenty of toys to fiddle with. Sure, Iíd have liked adaptive cruise control to make those long motorway cruises a little easier, and the massage seats provided a feeling more akin to a kitten gently prodding the small of my back, but the thought was there.
I remember our first time together, a trip to Heathrow. Looking back, the warning signs were there when I asked for you to hold my coffee as I drove, but you had nowhere to keep the cup. You also made promises that you werenít able to keep. There was the claim that youíd be able to go for 64.2 miles on a single gallon of diesel, but you averaged just 41.4mpg. Never did you manage to break even 50mpg, the best achieved when trying particularly hard was just 47.6mpg.
You used that DS name when we all know that you used to be a CitroÎn, but I looked beyond that, expecting your ëdynamic hypercomfortí suspension to cosset me as I made my way around the country. I was wrong about that, too. Instead you shuddered vigorously every time we hit a bump together. You calmed down a bit the faster we went.
Frankly, youíve not aged well either. Look at the highlights on your roof ñ the DS diamonds that look etched into the glass but are actually stickers ñ and youíll see that a number of them are starting to peel. Your joints are getting creaky and have started making a noise, especially the door stays that worked loose after just a few thousand miles.
Yes, people still glance in your direction, awed by your unique sense of style, but over time I started to become aware that your beauty was only skin deep, and your promises meant little. Everything about you is almost excellent, but you fall short in nearly every area.
Itís all such a shame as, somewhere deep inside, thereís something rather special and endearing thatís trying desperately to get out. I know youíve got big plans for the future, with the DS 7 looking like itíll be the premium experience your elders desire, while the DS 3 has the joie de vivre that youíd love to share.
It wasnít long into our time together that I started glancing in other directions, wondering what other options might be out there. My old flame, the Volvo V60, might have lacked your flair but was a far better ride, making me feel special every time I sat inside. BMWís 4-Series Gran CoupÈ is costly, but has the style you flaunt while backing it up with being both practical and exciting. Even the straight-laced Audi A5 Sportback looks a million dollars both inside and out, if not exactly distinctive.
And now Iíve met your younger cousin. Sheís from CitroÎn and goes by the name of C3. Yes, sheís not got the overwhelming presence you have, but her bright colours, cute bodywork and those cushioning airbumps give the impression that every day is going to be an adventure.
After a few months you knew you were the second choice on the driveway, the keys to whatever else was there always being snatched up first. It was just a matter of time before it became permanent. Itís over, and thatís probably for the best. Youíll find someone who appreciates your quirks, and there wonít be a shortage of people wanting to spend time with you. You made an impression on me, but not always for the right reasons, so weíve reached the end of the road. Itís not me, itís you.
Date arrived 15th June 2016
Fuel economy 55.4/68.9/64.2mpg urban/extra urban/combined 41.4mpg on test
I never tired of the aesthetics. It’s a fine looking car.
Design over function ruled here, the car being flawed in so many areas.