The VW Phaeton was the answer to a question no one asked: who wants to buy a $70k Volkswagen? Marketing mishegos aside, "Piech's folly" is a superb car: relatively quick, preposterously quiet and completely comfortable. Lest we forget, VW Chairman Ferdinand Piech is something of a master engineer. He was directly responsible for Porsche's 917; a race car so dominant they canceled the entire race series. Piech also willed the Bugatti Veyron into existence. The Touareg V10 TDI was born from the same world-crushing crucible as the Phaeton and the Veyron. So, how does the uber-oil burner measure up?

My name is Tony and I’m an ex-VW owner. Like most exes, it’s taken me a couple of decades to overcome my bitterness to the point where I can render objective judgment on the German automaker’s products. As a test drive reveals nothing about long-term reliability, I will mention it no more and judge the facts at hand. One of which is Volkswagen automobiles are still beset with mechanical and electrical gremlins. Damn! So, the Jetta. Nice looking car, eh?

When the Volkswagen R32 first arrived stateside, enthusiasts gave the hot hatch a hero’s welcome. The all wheel-drive, VR6-powered Alpha rabbit made its pre-GTI siblings look like a bunch of ectomorphic accountants at a supermodel slumber party. The R32 was rare, fast, agile, sharp-looking and tighter than the Osmond family at Thanksgiving dinner. The latest version is all that, again, with the notable addition of the world’s best gearbox. And yet the R32’s suddenly become a deeply unloved (if not unlovable) automobile. So who shot JR? 

At the tail end of the last century, the European built, Eurozone-only Volkswagen Polo was the "Mercedes of small cars.” While the Golf/Rabbits MKIII and MKIV suffered from iffy quality, the smaller, staid Polo was known for being reliably unbreakable. Then, something happened. Just as Mercedes' quality nosedived, the VW Polo lost its rep for bullet-proof build. Since 2005 quality has (reportedly) markedly improved, which has put the car back on the list of frugal consumers looking to buy something “classically VW." But is it ready for a U.S. debut?

There are only two reasons why anyone would buy a New Beetle convertible: a craving for cute or a need for nostalgia. Once you rule out these emotional drivers (so to speak), you're far better off in any number of more economical and practical machines. But that's OK, isn't it? Acquiring a Ferrari isn't exactly a rational decision. So analyzing the New Beetle's desirability comes down to this: does it suck enough to put off the retro- fashionistas?

Slide into the snug, over-bolstered leather seat. Push the chunky key fob into a slot labeled “start/stop.” Tune an ear to combustion as smooth as a baby’s backside. Grab hold of the three-spoke leather-wrapped helm. Engage first gear. Mash the throttle and drop the clutch. Brace for wheel hop, snick through the gears to triple digit speeds, then slam on the brakes. Escape through the heavy driver’s door and slam it shut. Glance back at the Volkswagen Passat 2.0T.

Rabbits are renowned for their reproductive skills. Clever ads for Volkswagen’s long anticipated A-platform hatch show city-dwelling Rabbits multiplying by the dozens. Ironically, the tiny population of US-bound Volkswabbits is hardly bound to satisfy demand, never mind dominate the landscape. A prospective buyer is lucky to sample Wolfsburg’s new bunny prior to placing an order, and then faces a wait of around 60 days. VW dealers couldn’t care less; nurturing understandably impatient leads is hardly worth the pennies of revenue it generates. So, with lukewarm fanfare, scarce availability and laughable profit, the Rabbit is back.

Every day, VW sales consultants encounter “diesel ups.” (For those unfamiliar with car lot lingo, an “up” is a browsing customer, bound for service by a revolving pool of salesman.) For the last three years, California-based “diesel ups” have been a shortcut to nowhere. Since 2003, the Golden State’s rigid emissions laws have outlawed diesel-powered Vee Dubs. Meanwhile, hybrid owners, cheapskates and other mileage-crazed customers pester commission-hungry staff about TDI’s that get 50 mpg on spent French fry oil. So, after three years of consumer anticipation and wasted ups, CA has finally given the A-OK to a diesel VW: the Touareg TDI. It’s a great landing at the wrong airport.

There is no way to overstate the appeal of the new Volkswagen Eos’ folding hardtop. I sat inside the car for ten minutes, opening and closing the lid, marveling at the mechanism’s precision and design. What kind of mind can develop something that folds and unfolds with such infinite grace? If you like to visit high speed factories spitting out hundreds of widgets per minute, filling them with liquids and shrink wrapping them in three swift motions, then you will never tire of lowering and raising the Eos’ five-piece hardtop. As for the rest of Vee Dub’s CSC (coupe-sunroof-convertible), it’s danger, boredom ahead.

I don't know about you, but I've been feeling sorry for Volkswagen for a while now. VW didn't so much lose their mojo as strap it to the nose of a Titan IVB and fire it into deep space. No disrespect to the world's fifth most populous country, but was anyone really surprised when a Brazilian Golf turned out like German bobo de camarao? Now that Vee Dub's got THAT out of their system, here comes the new, Wolfsburg-built Golf GTI. It's an Old School hot hatch with a Masters in Engineering. Viva VW!

For reasons best left to The International Museum of Marketing Doublespeak, Volkswagen decided to begin their mission-critical US Golf refresh with a two-door. More's the pity. The fifth-gen four-door is a far more handsome beast than the coupe– if only because the Golf's rear portals soften the enormous disparity between the front windscreen's bottom edge and the side windows' lower boundary. This bizarre asymmetry pisses on the Golf's 32-year history of two-box harmony. The resulting rear end trades brand recognition for something vaguely Japanese– as if the Golf suddenly decided to play the Accordian. And then there's the front end's unresolved echo of Audi's unconscionable house snout…

The power of love is a curious thing. It makes one brand weep, another brand sing. Change a bug into a little white Dub. More than a feeling; that's the power of love. Yes, I know it's old News, but Volkswagen's Beetle still gets a lot of love. You would've thought a retro reissue of Hitler's people's car would've fallen down the same rat hole that swallowed-up the mustachioed Plymouth Prowler, Chevrolet's WTF SSR and Ford's turkey T-bird. But no. Eight years after its re-introduction into the US market, VW's self-titled "New Beetle" is still here, people still adore it, and I still don't get it.

Admittedly, I'm not gay. While I do enjoy a well-formed six-pack, and consider myself a far better interior decorator than that stuck-up Connecticut con artist, I can't understand how anyone could find VeeDub's Bauhaus Bug "cute." I reckon J Mays drew the St. Louis arch over a Kohler bathtub and called it good. All the superb detailing that gave the 60's version its cutesy-tootsie cartoon character has been replaced with generic post-modern jewelery. To my eyes, the slab-sided minimalist Beetle is about as emotionally engaging as a Braun razor. The '06 facelift offers rounder headlights, more tapered wrap-around air dams and flat-edged wheel arches. It looks like… a slightly newer Braun razor.

For years, Volkswagen’s diesels were like cod liver oil: a worthy medicine that few American consumers could stomach. The stripped-down oil-burners hidden in the back of US forecourts seemed specifically designed for penny-pinching college professors and health food store managers. Customers who considered engine clatter, black smoke and lack of comforts (creature or otherwise) a badge of honor. When $3-a-gallon gas arrived stateside, hordes of “normal” customers suddenly joined the Euro-throngs clamoring for their daily dose of diesel. And no example was– is– more sought after than the VW Jetta TDI.

What's it like to drive a Volkswagen R32? Have you ever driven a Porsche Carrera 4? Well, it's like that, only smaller. The R32's engine provides the same silky smooth, addictively aggressive shove. The Vee Dub's 4Motion system generates the same tenacious grip. The uber-Golf has the same razor-sharp steering and seats-of-the-pants feedback. In fact, the only significant difference between Wolfsburg's finest and the pride of Stuttgart is the styling.

And the suspension. And the relative street cred, speeds involved and price. But let's leave such comparisons for the end. At this early stage in the game, suffice it to say that any VW that can play in the same ballpark as a modern Porsche is something you need to drive, if not own. So, let's take this German pocket rocket for a spin…

Here's a good way to lose money. Take a mass-market saloon and spec it to the max: sat nav, heat insulated tinted glass, parking radar, Bi-Xenon headlights, 17" rubber, alloy wheels, sports suspension, Tiptronic gearbox and the biggest damn engine money can buy. Come trade-in time, you'll get just about the same money for your superfast gin palace as Mr. Repmobile gets for his plain vanilla version. And yet…

Your hi-spec mass-market machine will cost less than a bare bones prestige model. Case in point: the Volkswagen Passat W8 4Motion Sport. For £34,070, you get all the goodies above (including an eight-cylinder engine) for two hundred quid more than a no-spec six-cylinder BMW 530i Sport. The VW gives you more German automobile for less of your beloved English pounds, ja?

According to Hans-Gerd Bode, VW's top marketing man, any luxury car that wants to make it in the German market must have 'uberholprestige'. 'Autobahn drivers who see a new car's nose looming in their rear view mirror must rate the machine highly enough to pull over and let it pass.' Thanks for that. Now give me the keys and show me that autobahn…

Approaching the Phaeton, you'd be forgiven for thinking you're about to get behind the wheel of an over-sized Passat. The Phaeton is huge: 16.5' long, and 6' wide. Despite these luxo-barge dimensions, the Phaeton is elegant, in a stealth wealth, 'I'm not a Mercedes' kind of way. Understated. But not under-equipped. The Phaeton comes equipped with all the must-have luxury car toys: sat nav, on-board computer, built-in and hands-free phones, cruise control, adjustable suspension, rain sensitive wipers, five ways to change gears (automatic, sport automatic, Tiptronic, paddle shift and wheel-mounted buttons), seats that heat, cool and massage; the lot. A Golf driver wouldn't know where to start.