Road Test
If a new model looks like fun—and this sparky little Volvo bobtail surely does—then its maker is figured to be shining up to the Hip, Hop, 'n' Kickin' generation, those active lifestylers still 20 years short of their first wrinkle. And as it happens, Volvo admits to wistful longings for the 28-to-38 crowd— "They don't call, they never drop by!"
But take it from us, there's nothing about this perky C30 that'll turn off the Modern Maturity set, starting with the base price of $23,445. A Volvo in sportswear is still a Volvo.
And this one is definitely a Volvo, an S40 sedan made over with a butt tuck (goodbye to about 200 pounds and 8.5 inches behind the rear wheels) and all-new clothes. Well, new except for the hood and windshield. Chopping off the tail has the visual effect of exaggerating the front overhang, amplifying the wedge shape created by the beltline rising as it sweeps toward the tail. Under the skin, the hearty T5 turbo 2.5-liter five-cylinder powering the front wheels is the only engine, backed by a six-speed manual or, for $1250, a five-speed automatic.
About that sportswear comment: When you sign up for a sexy looker like this C30, you don't want to see two or three just like yours clustered about the neighborhood Starbucks. And you won't—Volvo sells one car here for every three out BMW's door. This coupe is planned for 8000 annual U.S. sales, about one of every 10 Volvos sold. Of a total U.S. car market of 17 million, we'd say that makes the C30 exclusive, although not rare.
More on the sportswear theme—the C30 is sporty in the manner of sweats from Calvin Klein, not like a Speedo. Stick with the base car—called Version 1.0 on the menu—which comes with 205/50R-17 all-weather Michelins and a suspension calibration that's softer than Volvo offers on the C30 anywhere else in the world, and you'll get sure-footed reflexes paired with no-complaints ride smoothness, at least on the acne-free blacktops of the Sunbelt, where we did this test. Tire roar on textured roads was modest but not negligible.
Opt for Version 2.0 if you need more ruckus from the road. It has higher-rate springs, shocks, and stabilizer bars and appropriately recalibrated bushings, plus stiffer 215/45 summer tires on 8.0-by-18-inch alloys. On our Sunbelt test drive, we didn't find the 2.0 setup to be punishing, but Michigan motoring has made us generally wary of sporting Volvos.
The Version 1.0 for this test had just one option, Brilliant Blue Metallic paint at $475, for an as-tested total of $23,920. Volvo offers a long list of ways to make your C30 more expensive, including a custom-build program in which you ante $300 for a special menu that allows you to pay still more for à la carte items that include 17 exterior and 12 interior color combinations, bixenon headlights, keyless starting, parking assist, navigation, and some things that shouldn't be so rarefied, such as a six-CD changer, heated seats, and cruise control. Think of this special menu as the fast track to a C30 north of 30 large.
But hang on to your checkbook. We were charmed by the test car, in no small part for its affordability. This is an easy-wearing runabout for two, with good space in back for two more passengers if their inseam doesn't stretch more than 30 inches. The cloth-and-mystery-material front buckets are bolstered firmly enough to prompt complaints from the broad beamers among us. The frameless glass hatch is pure styling genius, all the better for its echo of Volvo's P1800 ES of 1971-73. Best of all, it opens and closes two-finger easily—the payoff of low mass—so you don't hesitate to pop it up on your way to the driver's chair when you have a briefcase or shopping bag in hand.
Coupes, of course, have long doors—especially long and heavy on the C30, a price for style you'll be aware of paying each and every time you swing them. When seated, you have a long reach back over your shoulder for the belt, too, very long if you're a short person with the seat adjusted forward. Apart from that, this is a handy little mobile unit, about two inches longer than a VW Rabbit, so it's easy to park. The six-speed shifts with a short, smooth stroke, and clutch engagement is perfect—if you think you can't drive a stick, you'll find you can in this Volvo.
While we're tossing bouquets, much of the C30's joy comes from its coordinated responses. This is a car that knows how to act. The brakes are wonderfully linear in their response, the steering zeros in on "straight down the road" when you cruise, and the throttle is free of the jumpy-jerky hyperactivity that is so tiresome in the pretend-to-be-fast crowd.
The 227-hp T5 is a light-pressure turbo setup, just 0.53 atmosphere at full boost. It doesn't come on with a lunge; indeed, there seems to be nobody home when you toe into it in fifth or sixth gear at polite speeds. But in the lower gears, the torque ramps up promptly to fold your ears back, romping to 60 in 6.7 seconds, exactly a half-second behind the Mini Cooper S and VW GTI, two obvious competitors. Quarter-mile numbers of 15.3 seconds at 95 mph earn the C30 a spot in our class of spirited performers, but not the fast class.
