7-day Test
For a long time, Australia was denied BMW's diesel technology -- our fuel wasn't good enough and had too high a sulphur content. But times change and diesels have been on most European manufacturer's menus for a couple of years -- even BMWs.
Oil-burning engines are finding their way into most of the Bavarian model line-up as the company plays catch-up to all its Euro-import rivals. But the joy of coming along later is you get to see what everyone else is doing -- and hopefully, trump them.
Typically, even the smallest BMW, the dinky 1 Series, gets a pretty special engine -- not just some pedestrian, clattery, smoky, smelly tractor engine, but a state-of-the-art turbocharged and intercooled multi-valve twin-cam unit that's actually the most powerful four-cylinder that BMW offers Down Under.
Delivering 115kW at a high 4000rpm, the 120d tops its petrol-powered two-litre equal by 5kW and its prodigious torque -- 330Nm at 2000rpm -- tops even the flagship 130i. Not available with a manual gearbox, the two-pedal two-litre is thus indecently quick -- it lunges from rest, zips from point to point, riding a crest of urge that systematically humiliates drivers of boom-box V8s.
Yet there's much about the 120d that is in total contrast to expectations -- for a start, it offers a most un-diesel-like lack of compression braking. Usually, lifting off or shifting down in a diesel sees speed vanishing hurriedly from the dial, but in the auto-only 120d, there's virtually no engine braking, even when nudging the back-to-front Tiptronic lever to shift down through the six-cog transmission.
As expected, the frugality of diesels saw the 120d averaging 7.9l/100km over a week of driving, mostly in the country or on off-peak freeways -- perhaps not as frugal as might have been hoped, but quite acceptable, given the scintillating performance.
Inside, the casual observer would be hard-pressed to pick the 120d as being spark-plug-deprived, but from the outside, the unmistakable clatter and rattle of a compression-ignition engine is distinctive, loud -- and irksome.
The handling of the 120 is impressive -- with power to the rear wheels and BMW's many disaster-avoiding electronic systems curbing exuberance when the limits are approached, the 120 pretty much goes where it's pointed. However, this precision comes at the cost of ride comfort -- the short chassis offers less than compliant suspension and the result is a firm ride that borders on harsh on anything other than perfectly surfaced roads.
The 120d doesn't have a spare wheel, space-saver or not; rather, it wears BMW's run-flat tyres, now renamed "safety tyres", which have become a source of controversy in the motor industry due to their unsuitability to rugged Australian conditions. Perhaps the tyres themselves, with their stiffer sidewalls, are responsible for the harsh ride. Either way, ride comfort is less than optimal.
BMW trusts its technology -- tyre-pressure monitors on all four wheels constantly measure each tyre's circumference -- if it deviates, the car registers a potential puncture and advises the driver to slow to under 80km/h and report to the nearest dealer: fine in Bavaria, not so good in Queensland.
Instead of even a space-saver, the rear of the 120d gets a super-sized battery -- useful for cranking up the compression-ignition engine and helpful in balancing out the heavier motor.
The Plus One package, a $2200 optional extra, consists of a 30gig iPod and connector kit, leather upholstery, 17-inch star spoke alloy wheels, Bluetooth phone preparation, metallic paint and rear Park Distance Control. This last is a good idea, since the rearward view is compromised and it's all too easy to miss low objects when reversing.
The Plus One option on the petrol-powered 116i and 118i usefully includes a six-speed manual transmission, but this is currently denied to the 120 diesel.
To be fair, it's clear that the 120 is aimed at inner-city young 'n trendies -- it's stylish, small, compact and indecently quick. BMW expect to win the hearts, minds and wallets of a new, younger generation of converts with the 1 Series; however, they better not have friends -- or even kids. Rear seat space is so tight, even the resident eight-year-old complained of a lack of leg- and foot-space between the rear doors. In reality, it's a 2+2: two in the front, and very occasionally and for a limited time, two in the back. Perhaps the 120d Plus One should be come 2 Plus toothbrush.