Toyota Supra – long-term review

Because of all that’s going on, so far the Supra has been more of a run-around than a sports car. In three months it’s only done 3,000 miles – mainly niggly trips and errands rather than B-road blasts and occasional track days. But this has been useful, as it’s highlighted some annoyances that come along with living with a Supra day-to-day.

Let’s start with the boot. For a reason I simply can’t understand, Toyota thought it’d be a great idea to not put a physical boot release anywhere on the rear of the car. So you have to scramble for the key in your pocket (completely undermining the point of the keyless entry) or open the driver’s door, bend down and press a button way down by the door bin. It’s a decent enough size once you’ve popped the hatch (290 litres) but has an awkward aperture that’s narrower than the space on offer, so you have to shimmy bigger bits in and under the bodywork. And as you have to load it from the top like those silly American washing machines, you end up dragging heavy things up and over the boot lid – it’s easy to scuff the paint.

The size can be deceiving though, as there’s a shelf with the beefier JBL speakers (free on the Pro, an option on the standard car) behind the seats that robs room. And the parcel shelf (which acts as useful second layer to lob clothes and jackets on) often fouls whatever bigger things are in the boot. Luckily it flaps back to give more space, but also reveals the contents of your boot to pesky robbers. Things that are only a smashed rear screen away from being yours, to becoming theirs.

What’s lovely though is the car’s footprint. Nowadays, even small cars are big. Not the Supra. Being lither than you’d expect (it’s a tad wider than a GT86, but the wheelbase is in fact shorter) it’s great at threading through London’s rat runs and width restrictors. Visibility isn’t great though. Sitting low with a high bulkhead and letterbox-like screen, it’s not easy to see out. And the rear 3/4 blind spot is horrific. Plus, if you’re lanky like me, it’s a nightmare to get in – especially in car parks. Being low and with a seating position that’s far and so foot-forward, you really need to swing the doors to make getting in easy... not possible in car parks as all cars are now fat. Therefore you have to get your left foot in, post yourself through a sliver of space, drop your bum into the seat, then drag your shin and limb into the cabin with you. Not graceful, but a price I’m willing to pay for a sporting driving position.