Have bought a c63 - from user liyi_92 and drove it back from Christchurch to Auckland on the long weekend.
As a daily driver the c63 isn't great, the suspension is hard, the clutched auto gearbox is finicky, the bucket seats are hard to get into and the cold start noise is obscene.
And yet it is exactly what I wanted.
After you clamber into the very supportive bucket seats trying not to wreck the bolsters you immediately get over the increased difficulty as you realise how supportive they are. You turn the key and then engine barks at you, at very short sharp exotic sound before quickly settling down - you almost feel it winking at you, nudging you to stab the noise pedal at some point in your journey. Pulling the T handle handbrake release in the lower dash you cant help feeling that its very in keeping with the theme of this pseudo luxury car, an unholy cross between fiendish race car and mid level sedan of yesteryear. As you bump along at 50kmh on your coilover hard suspension avoiding potholes and speed bumps or anything else that might clean your bumper right off, you start to wonder what you have gotten yourself into. Deciding there is nothing to lose and with the 100kmh target approaching you punch it in auto mode and a wait a fraction of a second while it drops 4 gears before the car shoots out from under you.
Thunder roars behind you, four hundred and fifty odd maniacal german horses loose from their stables and you grab the steering wheel for dear life- but you needn't have done so, a perfect smooth straight acceleration occurs, warpspeed but under control, no tire noise, no torque steer no fighting the steering wheel on road imperfections, just glorious throaty vocals and a blurred pointless digital speedo. 4 or so seconds later you're well into lost license territory and back off and slow to the limit, the car rewards you by smoothing out the ride considerably and its low speed faults fall away. No longer an unhappy racecar idling around the pits but balanced mile muncher, perfectly in its element doing the Christchurch to Picton run in the dead of the night.
You hit the first 65 corner at 85, not ready yet to push it and the car just eats it for breakfast leaving you wondering if you actually went round a corner or just through it, giving you confidence for the next corner, then the next... Before long you have the paddles going and are smashing the fun pedal upto the corner before jumping hard onto the picks with no sign of fade or complaint from the giant 6 piston stoppers, you wonder how you could ever muck it up enough that you couldn't stop in time or couldn't make the corner.
The 70 target appears and you coast through a sleepy village at 70, the car still completely content, almost relieved that it isn't executing a 3 point turn in a Ponsonby car park but merely gathering its breath for the next blast. Now you pass the 50 target which excites you because you know there's triple digits coming up and you aren't going a hair above 50 till its in sight, another few seconds of symphony to soothe any fears you had pottering around town.
100 approaches and you put $1 of 98 into the German jukebox again looking for that brilliant but over all too soon track, bumps are present but don't transmit to the chassis, somehow the stiff suspension transfers it away without upsetting the balance letting you know the harsh ride isn't the result of a cheap coilover setup.
Too soon you reach Picton, your stomach growls because you forgot to stop for dinner with your high octane shenanigans, doesn't look like anything is open in Picton either, must remember to eat tomorrow..