We build a Hyundai Tucson... Badly

As much as it pains us to say, by the end of this year local car manufacturing will cease Down Under.

No longer will you be able to make every day Australia Day with the car you drive.

It's going to take some getting used to, especially for those who have been brought up to believe their Holden, Ford or Toyota is genuinely better off for being designed, developed and built here.

With a lack of a locally-made Commodore, Falcon or Camry, it's companies like Hyundai that sense an opportunity. Its i30 hatch was a best-seller last year and with the imminent arrival of the big G80 sedan it wants to win the hearts and minds of those who bought big Aussie cars.

To help do that the Korean car-maker has invested millions in local chassis development here, ensuring its range of vehicles are developed and tuned for our roads.

Now all it needs to prove is it can also match our locally built cars for perceived quality too.

That's how we find ourselves at Hyundai's huge car factory in the east of the Czech Republic.

Opened back in November 2008, it's no exaggeration to label the plant — a place where a car rolls off the line once every 54 seconds — 'state-of-the-art'.

But before all that, why the Czech Republic? Why not the UK, France or Germany?

Thank communism for that.

Back in the Soviet-era, the small, centrally located country became famous for its car manufacturing capability, specifically the tough little air-cooled Skodas that helped mobilise Eastern Europe.

Today Skoda, and its parent Volkswagen, has made this part of Europe a car-making hub of excellence.

Throw in a cheap, well-trained workforce to draw on and it made sense for Hyundai to plough in a mighty $1.66 billion to build a factory.

Today the plant makes more than 350,000 cars annually, employs 3400 people and ships — via its own train line — to 66 countries around the world, including Australia.

Sitting a stone's throw from the Polish border, conveniently, the new factory also plugged an employment gap generated when coal mines closed following the fall of communism.

Kitted out from head to toe with the same gear as the factory workers, the select few of Australia's 'finest' car writers feel the part as we step into our first stop of the day -- the stamping shop.

It's here huge steel coils from France, Austria and Korea (made using Australian iron ore) are unwound, cut to shape and then pressed by the weight of 5400 tonnes.

First job of the day is cleaning up one of the presses. This involves a finger-tip search for any rough imperfections and plenty of polishing. All of us accomplish the first task of the day without any mishap or injury.

The inspection process is rigorous and, as bad luck has it, a new part for the Tucson has developed a fault with the press. It's not explained what's gone wrong but the immediate suspicion, at least among us hacks, is someone over polished a press.

The next vast expanse of the factory is taken up by more than 300 robots that have freshly stamped body panels delivered to them, via monorail, with ruthless efficiency.

Other than helping place parts to be laser spot-welded team 'Hackjob' feel pretty much redundant.

Out of curiosity, I ask our guide Petyr, how much it would cost if the production line was stopped today. His curt response was "you don't want to know".

To be fair we're quite happy watching in awe at the robo-welders swinging their arms in time as they rotate gracefully before showering the floor in sparks in a performance that's far more entertaining than my first (and last) experience of the ballet.

Following its spell at the mercy of the robots, 'our' Tucson already looks like a vehicle, with the bare bones and frame of the car already welded together. Now it rolls off on an overhead railway to the paint shop where it spends more than nine hours being painted by another army of robots before being baked in hot ovens to dry and harden the paint.

Final Assembly is the hall where things get serious for us. Again, the epic scale of the operation is mind-numbing. This stage of production is carried out in a room that, Hyundai claims, could contain 16 footy grounds -- we believe it.

A long line of Tucsons reappear. To help the workers gain access the doors are whipped off. Our first proper job of the day is screwing on some door stays.

Within moments there's chaos.

My first colleague drops the bolts he's given. The next cross-threads a bolt. Our minder radios for back-up.

My turn, mercifully, is slow but steady and utterly humiliating. Since it's a moving production line I find myself walking awkwardly backwards while I work. None of the Hyundai workers do this.

From then on it gets progressively worse.

My undoing occurs less than five minutes later when I'm struggling to fit an electric window assembly.

There's obviously a knack to it I lack. The more I struggle and curse the worse it gets. I end up dropping it. The motor separates from the unit, tugging out a sizeable portion of wiring loom.

The mortified look on the supervisor's face says it all. With parts arriving on demand there's no spares. Three supervisors grapple to fix it, a long line of doors wait for their electric windows.

I'm politely, but firmly, escorted off the line.

The farce continues. Thanks to our combined incompetence we manage to cross-thread a bolt for the fuel tank, a front chassis member and, perhaps the ultimate indignity, have a badging disaster that leaves one Tucson (very temporarily) badged 'Hundai Tucon'.

At all times the workers remain polite, calm and cheerful.

The Korean car-maker's quality control team, by now, are on high alert carefully checking, rectifying and then checking again all our work.

I think it's fair to say what was planned for us is rapidly wound back and we were kept well away from anything that may lead to an owner's future fatality.

Despite this, seeing our Tucson drive off the line under its own steam after only 20 hours of production still feels a special moment.

As did seeing it pass all its vigorous quality control tests, including a lap of the factory's test circuit, with no help from us.

It might not be made in Australia but the Tucson, nonetheless, is made to the same high standard we're used to.

Just make sure your car wasn't built by any of us.