There was only one word to describe the deluge of rain pouring down when I picked up the 2015 Hyundai Genesis – absolutely biblical. And wasn’t that appropriate? Not only because I was picking up a Genesis, but also because even shrouded in rain, I could see that it had biblical proportions – practically an ark. Of course, likely the sleekest and most sophisticated ark around. I was encased in bountiful luxury. This is the car you want to be in when the heavens turn dark, battering and whipping the earth with rain. There was something so capable and powerful about the Genesis, that made me feel safe and completely in control. I was ready to take on a monsoon!
Inside, it was 50 shades of greige, elegant and understated sumptuous leather comfort. And it had such good manners – graciously moving the seat and steering wheel back for maximum comfort when entering and exiting. A car that doubles as a butler! A heads-up display projected onto the windshield provided a wealth of information – my speed, the legal speed, the next turn, blind spot alert, even the Sirius radio station. It seems everything about the Genesis was large, comfortable and polite – if it could talk, it would have an English accent and its beverage of choice would be a fine Oolong tea, served on the best Spode china.
And yet – it sported a Hyundai badge! You would expect this type of poshness from more expensive European brands. An Aston-Martin vibe echoed in its cleanly flared and defined bearing, gracefully bowing back to an ever-so-slightly uptilted rear end. And powered by a massive 5-litre V-8, with a whopping 420 hp, all wheel drive, Lotus-tuned suspension, an eight-shift automatic transmission, and more indulgences than I usually enjoy on Valentine’s Day!
It did take up a fair bit of real estate on the road, which seems to be occupied by construction crews, backhoes, and traffic cones. Was it my imagination, or were pedestrians hurling themselves in my path? Safety sensors beeped a chorus of “caution!” – parking lots seemed to be the worst. I mean, a car this size – you couldn’t miss me. What were they thinking? Obviously, they weren’t.
I could choose from normal, sport or eco driving modes, and ever the cost conscious gal, chose eco. I may be stingy, but the power in this biblical beast was plentiful, and acceleration was never short of brawny. At all times, a digital read-out on the dash told me how my fuel consumption was doing, in case I needed reminding. It was so thoughtful and polite – not just a car, but with a butler’s attentive yet diplomatic deportment.
And when the sunshine came, I let it in through a gargantuan sunroof – which lifted back but left a discreet screen, to keep the cabin air clean. I could breathe easy, especially since this is the only car that comes with a cabin c02 monitor. Amazingly, in a car with so many amenities at my finger tips, I was able to figure out all of them. Only once did I have to consult the owner’s manual – a sunscreen on the back window, which some people might appreciate, hindered my view at night. I couldn’t figure out how the heck to get rid of it, and finally found the right button. Whoosh! All gone.
On a trip to a neighbourhood crowded arts and crafts fair, I worried just a smidge – where the heck would I park a car this size? The side streets were mobbed, and the festivities spilled out over the sidewalk onto the street. My crafty companion, a long-time friend who has developed an connoisseur’s appreciation for cars over the duration of our acquaintance, was suitably impressed with the car’s deftness. And parking was actually a breeze. With the help of sensors and a rear view camera, we easily slid into the perfect spot. And when it was time to haul my friend’s bargain treasure chest home, the roomy trunk was duly appreciated.
You can judge a good craft fair not only by its goods and bargains, but also how depleted one feels when it’s all over. The schlepping from booth to booth, the agony of indecision, the thrill of the haggle, and the excitement of winning a unique and stylish accessory. It drains you, leaving you devoid of energy.
And so finally, we sank our exhausted remains onto the welcoming leather seats, clucking and chortling over our haul, sailing smoothly home.
Would any butler have done any less?