MERC of respect

Motoring editor ALASTAIR SLOANE slips behind the wheel of several different vehicles and generates a range of reactions from passersby.

First, a story. One Saturday morning I jumped into my 1968 Volkswagen Beetle and drove to a brand-name computer shop in Auckland to check prices. I was dressed in jeans, knockabout leather shoes and shirt.

At about 8.55 I parked in a "customers only" space outside the shop and, noticing a fellow inside, went to open the front door. It was locked.

The 30-ish chap wore a white short-sleeve shirt and tie and had a name badge on his shirt pocket. He was standing some way from the door. He looked at me through the glass, raised his watch arm and tapped on the face of the watch. The message was clear: I was early and would have to wait. I returned to my car. An ad for a rival computer company was playing on the radio.

Just after 9 o'clock he unlocked the front door. I wandered in, picked up a few brochures and left. He hadn't even said good morning. Nor had the second salesman, who entered from a "staff only" door to fiddle with the cash register.

The next Saturday I did the same thing, arriving outside the shop at five to nine dressed in the same jeans, shoes and shirt. But this time I was driving a C-Class Mercedes-Benz.

I made for the door - only to have it opened by the same fellow who a week earlier had been dismissive. "Good morning, sir," he said. "How can I help you?"

I said I wanted to look at prices. He gathered up brochures, pinned his card to the collection and said if I needed anything else all I had to do was call. "Have a nice day, sir." I said nothing of his earlier attitude and left the shop forever.

Some weeks later I drove past the place. There was a "for lease" sign in the window.

People react to high-performance or prestigious cars in all sorts of ways. Some get grumpy. I have been abused by a stranger for driving a soft-top BMW. A youth called me a "white honky" when I stepped out of a Range Rover. A woman gave me the fingers when I quietly passed her in a Mercedes-Benz CL coupe. There is a message in this.

Some are happy. A young guy and his girlfriend sprinted down Albert St, yelling at me to stop so they could get a closer look at the new Volkswagen Beetle. Another young bloke laid his raincoat, Sir Walter Raleigh-like, in front of the new Mini Cooper S that I was driving. The other day a chap and his wife wanted to know all about the Citroen Picasso people-mover. Another fellow said he had the V8 Holden Commodore SS on his wish-list.

Teenagers in a souped-up Mazda challenged me and the latest Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution VI to a drag at traffic lights. A handful of middle-aged men asked for a ride in a Subaru WRX Impreza.

A man outside Victoria Park market was peering in the window of the latest Porsche 911 Turbo. "Just admiring your car," he said. "It's not mine - I'm just driving it," I replied. "That's good - I will be able to hear it start up," he said.

Cars with a high motorsport profile are magnets - Holden Special Vehicles especially so.

But when push comes to shove, a Mercedes-Benz gets most respect. It has engineering integrity. It means old money. It's the car that world leaders use for summit meetings.

BMW's image is seen as flashy by comparison. It's the car that rock stars use to go to a concert. It categorises its buyers, often unfairly. But it lives up to its boast of being the "best drivers' " car. Its marketing arm is acknowledged as one of its strengths, too, perhaps summed up by its worldwide advertising spend of about $6000 for every car it sells. Mercedes-Benz spends $600.

Audi is under-stated. It fits in anywhere. Lots of people like that, including a high-profile interior designer in Auckland, and the general manager of a plush retirement village who traded in her BMW because her tenants frowned on it. Image again.

Jaguar doesn't invoke Anglo Saxon envy any more. Its cars have always been at the cutting edge of design, but unreliability blunted their appeal to all but the most devout. Owner Ford has changed that over the past 10 years for a new generation of buyers, and it is trying to inject some of the old Jaguar magic. It might just do it, too.

Of all the prestige models, Toyota's Lexus is the most under-rated - and one of the most admired. But it doesn't have a history beyond 10 years, and it won't turn heads at traffic lights.

Nor will the Swedes, Volvo and Saab - unless you are driving the Saab 900 convertible, the fifth most popular soft-top (sports cars included) in the world.

One car that invited a question or two by strangers was the ML55, the special-edition four-wheel-drive Mercedes-Benz. It is built by the carmaker's performance specialist AMG.

New Zealand will get only about 30 such models, each priced at $165,000.

The consignment is part of a combined order from New Zealand, Australia and Britain for about 650 right-hand-drives. Australia will take 200 vehicles and Britain the remaining 400-odd.

The ML55 is powered by a 255kW 5.5-litre V8, a reworked version of the 5-litre S-Class powerplant. It effortlessly delivers 510Nm of pulling power at 2800 rpm, oomph which helps it get from zero to 100 km/h in under seven seconds.

Mercedes-Benz have incorporated into the ML55 design elements from other vehicles in the stable.

These include "power domes" on the bonnet, which echo the SLK roadster and serve as symbols of sportiness and performance.

The use of mouldings also gives the vehicle a more purposeful appearance which, after all, is what you are paying for.

The interior features the best of Mercedes-Benz, a mix of buffalo hide, walnut trim and soft carpets. Its seats are superb. Same with the list of equipment.

The big Merc chewed up the kilometres in the rain and humidity on State Highway One the other day. It has one of the best demisters in the business. It is superbly poised, its electronic four-wheel-drive system removing doubts about the rain-affected road surface.

Just north of Hamilton I slipped the vehicle into low-range and crossed a ripped-up back road and muddy surface to meet a bloke at a dog show. He breeds Bernese Mountain dogs, big fellas bred to pull wooden carts full of goods between villages in Switzerland.

He looked at the ML55. "Pretty impressive vehicle. What's it like?"