We all know that there’s far, far more to this game than just pure numbers, though, don’t we? Thing is, the Cyberster is actually very good to drive – far better than I had hoped for when I read that the GT would weigh more than two tonnes once I’d belted in. On the trying Highlands roads of our test route, it was always remarkably composed.
The suspension – double wishbones at the front, a five-link arrangement at the rear – always feels very supple, never too firm, and never harsh, even though body roll is all but undetectable even when you’re cornering hard and fast. Mid-corner bumps at speed aren’t problematic, and any unwanted body movement that does result is very quickly remedied. Even potholes don’t cause issues. On one dual carriageway that resembled an elongated QR code, it genuinely wafted.
With so much weight so low down, four driven wheels and serious rubber, the GT feels impossible to confound. It seems that no matter how early or hard you pour on the power through a corner, it will just nonchalantly shrug, dig in and surge out through the exit. In this regard, it feels like… well, a GT, rather than a sports car. There’s something of a fiery Audi in the way that it’s so sure-footed and neutrally balanced (indeed, the weight distribution is a perfect 50:50) – except that its ride quality is leagues better than the TT RS’s.
The steering, though lacking in feel, being electric, inspires confidence with its accuracy, especially in Sport mode – something I preferred in conjunction with Comfort mode for the powertrain.
In other modes, the ferocity of the Cyberster’s performance level is simply too much for my brain to keep up with. And as for Track mode? Crikey, if the sickening blast that the red button on the steering wheel provides for caravan overtakes is anything to go by, it’s to be deployed with plenty of care on the road.