The Mini grows up, but still keeps its charm

Michael Taylor ponders whether the five-door, five-seat Countryman can really be called a Mini.

The Mini Countryman does a good job of emulating its smaller cousins in performance and handling.

The cheeky small car the world fell in love with 40 years ago has shocked the world by growing up, growing out and growing a new set of doors. So how can it still be called "Mini"? Because the first Mini had so much character, it's a word that's developed to match. But a skirt that went down to the knee could hardly be called a miniskirt, could it? Yet BMW believes it can stretch its Mini brand until it hurts, so it's knocked up new chassis architecture to sit beneath a 4.3m, five-door, five-seat baby SUV called the Countryman.

As an aside, they try to tell us that they've taken great pains to make it as nimble and agile in its handling feel as the Cooper hatch. And we've driven it, even though it won't make it here until January. But there are some hints that they may be correct. For starters, the front and rear tracks are much wider. Then there's the all-new, optional all-wheel-drive system, which detects wheel spin in just 10 degrees of slip and can fire all the engine's torque to whatever end can use it. That makes it the first production Mini all-wheel drive.

It's also the first new-generation Mini to be built outside the UK, with the manufacture of its all-new architecture outsourced to the Magna-Steyr operation in Graz, Austria, and is expected to account for fully a third of all Mini sales. But whatever else it is (and whether you like the "helmet" roofline or not), the turbocharged Cooper S version of the MINI Countryman has ended up being a very, very good car.

And, when all the talking is said and done, on a wet test track near Vienna, the Countryman Cooper S turns out to be surprisingly close to the Cooper S in its handling and agility, undone in the last measures only by slower steering and extra weight. It rolled a little more than the sparkling hatch, its steering isn't quite as sharp or precise and you always know it's trying to redirect between 150kg and 180kg more mass than the hatch, too.

That's right. Depending on whether you have a front-drive or an all-wheel drive, the Countryman can be up to180kg heavier than the Cooper S hatch, and 70kg of that is in the all-wheel drive system (60kg of which sits over the rear axle). But it has the same basic feeling. It's uncanny, and you could close your eyes and feel like you were in the hatch - except that, when you back the car into a corner and the tail begins to swing around, you can stand back on the throttle for long, calm all-wheel drifts.

We tried that on every corner we had to play on and, even in fourth-gear, the Countryman slid with sure-footedness, adjusted its line impeccably whenever you tweaked the accelerator pedal or dabbed the brake. The steering is necessarily slower than the edgy Cooper S, but it rides only 10mm higher than the hatch and the entire car chips in with communication when the grip levels are getting close. On the Middle East's better dirt roads, it's going to be fun, but don't think of it as a sand-dune master.

But it's also tremendously practical. There's more space up front (because of the extra width) and the rear seats are excellent. If you choose the four-up option, you get two rears that are adjustable fore-and-aft and for the backrest. And you don't get that in a BMW X5. There's also a separation panel that can take a host of clip-in options like cupholders or sunglass holders, and they've also thought about space for your feet under the front seats. And there's plenty of headroom for six-footers, though it isn't exactly a Golf rival for luggage space.

There's also the Cooper, but the Cooper S is the one to have, largely because the ALL4 Countryman weighs 1,380kg (not so mini, really) and because its four-cylinder engine combines variable valve timing and lift, direct fuel injection and a twin-scroll turbo, just like the BMW 5 Series. With 181hp and 240Nm of torque, the four is strong from everywhere and willing to rev, and combines beautifully with a slick, new six-speed manual gearbox.

So the Countryman might end up being the not-so-mini Mini that the purists hate. But, depending on its price, it is good enough for gigantic sales.