A crepuscular chasm of crystal light cleaves the clouds cowering over Cambridgeshire, signalling that the somnambulant sun has stirred and soared into the sanguine sky aloft.
On the torpid terra firma ‘twixt flowing fields lies a roulade of rapaciously ribbon-like road and upon it, scuttling speedily like a spacious shrew, exists a solid slug of silver, cutting through the slowly waking world behind a hot haze of headlight.
Will this be a day of Note? Oh yes. The wry reference in that prior sentence was no careless capitalisation for today I am skippering Nissan’s brightest B-seg baby, the new and nubile Note. Question is, is the Note truly noteworthy?
When I popped the locks at ungodly o’clock first impressions were of a design that’s cubically cool and a solid stance that hints at a hope of helmsworthiness. The innards are preened with purpose too, boasting a simple style that puts the tools on the table. I wasted no time in introducing chino to chair and thumbing the business button to get this party started.
First impressions disarm with charm as several key players come to the dynamic table, starting with the thrumsome hum of the three pot puller under the prow. This smooth operator forms an amiable alliance with a whip snap gear grabber that glides through the gate like an oleaginous eel and brakes as firm as treading on a turtle.
So we know the basics are designed to keep the wheelwright keen. However, will the nippy Note handle the heat when the pedalling gets pacey? So it is to quench this vital question that I find myself palming this pint-sized charmer across some of the East Midlands’ most brutal blacktop. As the ferocity of the velocity climbs, so the little Nissan responds in kind, taking each swoop and sinew in its stride, returning each difficult dynamic delivery back across the net with a well-damped bow on top. As the engine purrs yet pulls like a cat on ketamine the subtle suspension gets to work on soothing the surging surface of every supine switchback like a mechanical masseur.
Applying some spice on the way into an especially testing turn I back out of the gas giver and feel a feed of facts from the axles that tells me the arse is going AWOL. I simply catch it with a dab of oppo and I’m away.
The Nissan Note 1.2 Acenta Premium is a bitch. And I spanked it.
Troy Queef is Executive Associate Editor-At-Large for DAB OF OPPO magazine
