Even at the time (and I vividly remember these being launched), the Audi A2 always struck me as a “Let’s call the whole thing off” type of car. You said “expensive,” they’d say “efficient.” You said “complex,” they’d say “innovative.” You say “aluminum,” they (and I) say “aluminium.” It was never going to work, was it? But you have to give them credit for trying.
Upon its launch in late 1999, the A2 was widely feted as a highly advanced and sophisticated car, which it was. But I distinctly remember some older French automotive journalists saying “Panhard tried this back in the ‘50s, it didn’t work then and it probably won’t work now.” The parallels between the sleek, economical, light, FWD, all-alloy Panhard Dyna Z and the sleek, economical, light, FWD, all-alloy Audi A2 were pretty evident. But there were a few differences, too.
Panhard were stuck with just one engine (a brilliant but temperamental air-cooled flat-twin), whereas Audi had several options to choose from. Initially, the choice was just a 75hp 1.4 (petrol 4-cyl. or turbo-Diesel 3-cyl.); in 2001, the VW Lupo’s tiny 60hp 1191cc 3-cyl. Diesel was added, enabling the A2 to advertise astronomical fuel economy figures of 3 ltr/100km or 95mpg.
Our feature car is the more performance-oriented of the breed, as it has the direct injection 1.6 litre engine, good for 110hp. This variant was the last to join the range in the spring of 2002. I’m sure we’re all somewhat familiar with the car’s lightweight construction, extremely advanced aerodynamics and so forth – a more thorough look at the A2’s technical specs can be found in this post. And in this one, too. CC likes these Audis, it seems.
And besides the A2, Audi had a whole range to keep potential clients interested visiting their local four-ringed dealership. Panhard did not, and their gamble failed to pay off, leading to their takeover by Citroën. Audi were already part of the great VW family, so there was no danger of anything like that.
Light and (relatively) small though it was, the A2 was still an Audi, so it was pretty expensive. That’s one reason why it was never exported to North America. It just didn’t fit the marque’s image over there. But oddly enough, they never sent these to Japan, either.
The reason for the A2’s absence from Audi’s Japanese range was a little different: the local market was only really interested in petrol engines, and those were only available with a 5-speed manual (to keep fuel consumption low, I suppose). Given how expensive the Audi would be in Japan, not offering an automatic option would make it impossible to sell, or so the local importer felt. However, a few gray (well, silver) market imports did trickle into the country.
More than one, in fact. Above, and accompanying us to the end of this post, is A2 number two, i.e. a pre-facelift 1.4 litre model.
There are very few details to be able to tell a pre- from a post-facelift car, by the way. One of them is the front “grille” bit, which has mat slats in the 2002-05 version, but was smooth and shiny initially.
This grill is actually a service hatch to fill up window washer fluid and check the oil. The hood can be removed, but it has no hinges – all in the name of saving weight.
Aside from that and a few tiny details, such as the 1.6 FSI’s beefier rear spoiler, Audi made virtually no changes to their technical masterpiece. That’s one of the issues with masterpieces – you tend to make them worse by trying to improve on them.
Our early-ish model here has the sportier 9-spoke wheels, which are a nice touch. But when studying the A2’s design, particularly in profile, one cannot help but feel it ended up a bit too dumpy for its own good. Maybe if it had worn another badge from the VW Group – say, SEAT or Škoda – this could have been overlooked, but the A2 just couldn’t pass for an early ‘00s Audi, at least on the outside.
On the inside, things were more Audi-like, at least in terms of fit and finish. The A2’s main competitor was the Mercedes A-Class (W168), and the folks from Neckarsulm knew how to compete with Stuttgart in any segment. Plus, the A-Class had kind of botched its entrance, what with that propensity to end up with its wheels in the air.
The A2’s cabin, when optioned with leather, looked like a true luxury vehicle, almost justifying its lofty retail price.
But take away the cowhide and revert to cloth, like in our 1.6 FSI model, and the ambiance loses some of its exclusivity. The Mercedes, for all its faults, had the requisite toys inside and brightwork on the outside to peacock its way into the garages of wealthier European (and Japanese) urbanites, who knew not to seek elks on Swedish skidpads. Mercedes sold truckloads of the things. They never made any money off them, but that was perhaps not the entire point of the exercise.
The Audi, in contrast, was seriously focused on economy while being very expensive in many ways: even a minor collision could prove too dear to fix, due to the vaunted all-aluminium construction. The paradox just wasn’t attractive, really. Besides, for a lot less money, pretty similar performance and a more attractive package, one could get a VW Golf. And many did.
In 2005, Audi threw in the towel. Only 176k units of this sophisticated machine were produced – a very rare and very genuine fail on Audi’s part, costing the VW Group about €1.3bn. This turned out to be peanuts compared to Dieselgate, but it did herald the start of a complicated chapter in the VW-Audi’s history. Et tu, A2?
Related posts:
Curbside Classic: Audi A2 1.2 TDI – Vorsprung Durch Technik, by Mads Jensen
Curbside Classic: 2003 Audi A2 – Aluminium Wonder Or Folly?, by JohnH875
The too big wheels are what you expect from an older Audi where its owner wants to update it. But it is out of line for the A2, which went the other way and specified narrow tires when new (for better fuel economy).
I was impressed when the car came out. Did not expect such new ideas from Audi. But I never much liked it because, as you say, it looks a bit too dumpy.
There are quite a lot of enthusiasts for this car in the Netherlands, there even is a garage solely specifying in the A2.
Those 7×17 alloys were one of two factory fitted choices on latter S-Line equipped A2’s.
Different for the sake of being different and now sought after because of it. Even without the aluminium body it would still have been poorly proportioned, just too narrow in the interests of Cda.
And like all German cars of this era strangely equipped, for example work out windows in the back for a premium product?
Now Audi is back to building Russian dolls and it’s entry level hatches and cross overs still don’t sell in the UK because now they aren’t different enough from the Cupra, Skoda, SEAT or VW which all look and feel the same from the drivers seat.
You’re kind of contradicting yourself. You say it’s different just for the sake of it, yet you state one of the reasons in the next sentence. It’s quite a rational design really, if space and fuel efficiency are top priorities. Why does a compact city car need to be wide? Something we don’t see often enough reflected to such a degree in cars’ shapes. Maybe all the others are different, while the A2 is designed with actual reason, instead of conventional aesthetic preferences.
Manual windows do the job, they’re lighter, take up less space and are more reliable.
The A2 wouldn’t usually have been fitted with ac as standard and you would have needed to open those windows, good luck trying that from the front seats.
The only vehicle I’ve ever had windows fail were manually operated VW ones. The offending parts were clearly stamped with four rings, so obviously used in Audis as well.
“The A2 wouldn’t usually have been fitted with ac as standard and you would have needed to open those windows, good luck trying that from the front seats.”
For this purpose, German cars have always been available with a hole in the roof from the factory – Problems of all kinds guaranteed when the vehicle gets older.
One of those cars that for me at least is basically perfect, in aesthetic sense. Rarely is a car so exceptionally neatly resolved, with a strong overall theme where every detail makes sense. Yet it’s also highly unusual and innovative. I guess it’s all the car most people would ever need. Down to the little access panel, which ‘enthusiasts’ might frown upon, but as a point of customer interaction with the oily side of things, it’s brilliant. But that’s a future that never happened and we’ve instead gone down a completely different path. Such intelligent cars are really rare now, it’s sad the buying public rarely recognises them too, usually only in hindsight.
Thank you; I couldn’t have said it better myself. The 1990s were a very different time.
I agree – it’s perfect , always fancied one.
I bought a new A4 Avant in 1999 and it was a tight & tidy package. (I always felt slightly
unworthy entering the car.) It handled well enough, but down on power with just 150 hp. I didn’t own it long enough to experience any of the reported engine sludging. If this A2 had been seen running around the Twin Cities it might well have put me off the brand.
Btw, “Pushing Tin” is an entertaining 1999 film about two air traffic controllers, starring John Cusack, Billy Bob Thornton, Cate Blanchett, and Angelina Jolie. It was never shown on board airliners … Oh yeah, I like the Audi A2. Agree that it’s a bit dumpy, but purposeful. Would include one in my mythical pole barn stored fleet.
Found this one in the northern Germany countryside last year. The wheels are perhaps more harmonious than the ones Tatra found in Japan.
From afar, I felt these were envelope-pushing, “look what we can do” cars. They’re not pretty, they’re expensive for the size and class, etc.
In certain ways I can compare it to the same era, first generation, Honda Insight. Both were exploring new technologies and techniques. Neither was really meant as a car for the masses. Honda only sold 17k units worldwide over the course of production, a positively insignificant figure for Honda.
Yet the automotive world improved because of both of these cars.