Anyway, the Seat Exeo is pretty much the opposite of the Marmite thing. You are neither going to love it nor hate it. Nor feel anything much at all for it. It's a car that seems to be designed to inspire indifference in the beholder. Look at it. See? Nothing at all, not even a flicker either way.
It's practically invisible. Even its name – the Exeo – is instantly forgettable. I know, because I instantly forgot it. I asked the nice lady in the press office when my Altea was due to arrive. In the end I had to think about it in terms of what the Teletubbies say with an Ex first – the Ex "Eh Oh". This is a car for Tinky Winky.
The Seat Exeo is really a last generation Audi A4, with new lights and a new grille, and rebranded as a Seat. So you could look at it as getting an Audi for less money. Or you could look at it and think: that's just an old Audi, last year's model – why would I want one of them? Or, even more likely, you could look straight through it, not notice it all.
Actually, the Exeo is a perfectly good car. It's roomy in the back, and the boot is huge. This diesel model is fairly cheap to run for a car of the size. I have the "Tech" model, meaning it's quite generous with the toys – satnav, a Bose sound system (sounds very good, actually), iPod connectivity, etc. Oh, and it has leather seats, so I can feel a little bit executivey. Ah, perhaps that's what "Exeo" is hinting at... no, it says here that "Exeo" is based on the Latin for going beyond, nothing to do with executives or, indeed, Teletubbies. Hmm. Well, I'm not sure it even gets there, let alone beyond. Performance is adequate, I suppose... God, are you as bored with this paragraph as I am?
Because that's what it is – there's no love, no hate, no nothing, it's just dull. What's a properly bland food spread? Philadelphia? That's pretty horrid, actually. I know: it's just plain toast. A Seat Plain Toast, then.
