For Sale: 1993 Volkswagen Golf in Katwijk, Netherlands

"You can't be a true petrolhead until you've owned an Alfa Romeo," Clarkson once said. Fair enough, but with all due respect to the messiah: he really could have added a second line. Something along the lines of "and you're not truly grown up until you've heard a VR6 sing." Because that sound, those six cylinders that don't sit neatly in a row but are crammed together at a fifteen-degree angle in a block that's really far too wide for the engine bay of a Golf, is one of the finest noises Wolfsburg has ever produced. Let's rewind a bit. In the early '90s, Volkswagen had a problem. The Golf III had grown more mature, heavier and better-behaved than the sharp Golf II, and in the eyes of many an enthusiast the GTI had lost some of its shine. The solution didn't come from the usual direction of more turbo or more revs, but from a completely new engine: the VR6. Six cylinders in a narrow V, with a single cylinder head over the whole lot, which made the block so compact that it simply fitted transversely under the bonnet of a Golf. 2.8 litres, 174 bhp, and a torque curve you could picnic on all afternoon. No turbo lag, no drama, just a steady wave of shove that only lets up when you lift off the throttle in surprise. It was the fastest Golf you could buy back then, and instantly the most grown-up too. Where the GTI was a yappy little terrier, the VR6 was a grand tourer in the guise of a compact hatchback. You could do the shopping in it and then head off, undisturbed, on a road trip down to the C�te d'Azur without your ears or your back complaining one bit. Right, back to the VR6 in question. This dark blue one from 1993 has a life story you don't come across very often. Because it didn't spend its first 25 years in Germany or the Netherlands, but in Japan. Delivered new in November 1993 to an official Volkswagen dealer in Odawara, a coastal town not far from the foot of Mount Fuji. And the Japanese did exactly what they're world-famous for: cherishing it as if it were a porcelain tea set. The service history is a small work of art in itself. Recall actions dutifully carried out at the dealer, biennial inspections just as they should be, fan motor replaced under campaign, edge protection fitted to the window wiring, rear-door clip installed. All neatly stamped and documented, in that characteristic Japanese booklet where you can't read a single word but where every page screams that someone here loved their car. In 2018 it came to the Netherlands, and since then it has mostly stood quietly, which you can tell in every respect. Manual gearbox, which with a VR6 is the only right answer. The five-speeder lets you feel exactly what those six cylinders are up to, and that's a conversation you don't want to outsource to an automatic. The Continentals underneath are practically new, well over 8.5 mm of tread all round, so you won't need to worry about those for a good while. Fair's fair: it's a 32-year-old car, and that means something asks for attention now and then. The ABS light, for instance, deserves a look, that came up as an advisory point from the last inspection. But that's precisely the sort of job an enthusiast happily takes on himself, because then you're actually doing something with your car instead of just sitting in it. And that's exactly what makes a VR6 so special. It's not a museum piece to be shut away in a climate-controlled cabinet. It's a car you simply drive, every day if you dare, and one that keeps reminding you, with that characteristic humming growl, why you fell in love with driving in the first place. A sleeper avant la lettre, in the most inconspicuous blue you can imagine, with an engine nobody in a car park expects anything of until you fire it up. This Golf has seen half the world and is still calmer than most of us. Time for a fourth owner to give it the sound it was built for. **Special features** - Legendary 2.8 VR6, 174 bhp, that inimitable six-in-a-narrow-V sound - Manual five-speed gearbox, exactly as