There really is a lot to admire about the BMW M5 Touring… but although I would gladly reveal my most heartfelt admiration for Olympic sprinters, that does not mean to say that I’d want to live with the strict diet, uncompromising exercise regimen, those unflattering running trunks and constant drug screening that they put up with. The M5 Touring is certainly a supremely sophisticated and accomplished athlete, but on South African roads, it is forced to compete on a divot-ridden (and congested) grass patch.
By administering a minor facelift to the 5 Series last year, BMW has breathed new life into a, sadly, dour segment of the market. I’ve actually always liked the Five, and our black test unit, with its bold M Design alloys, eye-catching front and rear aprons and tell-tale double twin exhaust ends, looks every bit a Thunder ‘Wagon. Under the bonnet lurks Munich’s acclaimed 373 kW F1-inspired 5,0-litre Bi-Vanos powerplant (mated with a seven-speed SMG transmission)… This, dear readers, is my third meeting with a V10-powered BMW (after M5 saloon and M6 Cabriolet) and I can honestly contend that this one is my favourite of the three.
Forget about the complexity of the transmission-, electronic damper control- and engine management settings for a minute. This car, with its arcade-like head up display and matt silver metallic shift paddles, which jut out from behind the steering wheel, is a machine that begs its pilot to send the M Power engine revolutions to the 8 500 r/min redline with blatant disregard for economy and ecology. The result of such self-indulgences is, of course, a glorious soundtrack packed with high-pitch V10 snarls and gruff blips on downshifts.
The car seems somewhat unsettled and nervy in traffic (if you keep the transmission in Drive mode), but show it an open stretch of road and the M5 Touring will astound you with its almost clinical on-road precision and instantaneous reactions to driver inputs. Unfortunately, the trials and limitations of South African road conditions do not often offer the M5 a decent opportunity to stretch its legs – and as a result, you tend to over drive the car whenever you see a gap in the traffic, and that’s reckless, not to mention selfish and dangerous. The alternative is to head out to a deserted country road on weekends… if only to make the Touring perform on a stage for which it was bred (PS. I hope you’ll earn loyalty points with your petrol card).
And if you are thinking “I’m sure I’ve heard this rant before” and “Manufacturer X wouldn’t sell this car in South Africa if people aren’t going to buy it, Mike”, then I’m truly sorry, ladies and gents… The M5 Touring is a car that I would love to play with until the novelty of its gizmos and gadgets wore off, and, even though I love the overall look, stellar performance, intimate black interior and panoramic sunroof, the M5 Touring is just too over the top for the already minuscule executive-sized estate market.
Buy it only if you don’t want the neighbors to confuse your M5 with that of the new-money upstart that lives down the road from your mansion. In the end, the M5 Touring is as comfortable on our roads as Asafa Powell would be if he tried to sprint on a tray stacked with milky marbles. Its brilliant as a precision driving tool, but less than extraordinary for everyday transport.
And, for the price of an M5 Touring (it starts at R1,05m) you could buy BMW’s 335i saloon AND an M3… You do the math.
