It takes us exactly two minutes to learn our first lesson about the Civic Type R. It hates going slow. Hates it. Lifting our right foot for the first time, the engine starts doing this thing: It dips several octaves, like a bloodhound whine. Its disappointment ripples through us like a cold shudder. As if listening to Kylie and Atomic Kitten in heavy rotation on British radio isn't sad enough, we really don't need something else bringing us down, which brings up a dilemma.
We're in England. Keeping speed isn't a problem on the motorways (their term, not ours), where dropping below 90mph can leave you lagging in Loserville with the Fiats and Smart Cars. On the smaller A-roads, however, we run into problems in the ugly shape and form of the roundabouts, circular islands of grass and mud where as many as five or six crossroads meet. In practice, they're indefinite stop signs. It's possible, during rush hour, to sit at the brim of a roundie for five full minutes while cars whiz by in front of you. We feel the CTR contemplating suicide at each pass.
So after half a day of roundabout-hopping accompanied by horrifying Brit-pop, we retaliate. Feathering the clutch on the approach, we downshift to Third, then Second. And as the revs jump and the rest of traffic yields to the on-coming roundabout, we speed through the shallow arc clockwise back onto the straight, quickly notching back up to Sixth gear. Done and done.
This is the first time that the Civic Type R has been made available outside Nippon and it's a new experience for most Londoners. During our week with the red car we're asked: 1) if it runs on diesel; 2) if it has a turbo; and 3) if it's fast. The Type R the Brits get differs slightly from the Japanese version, but it's still the fastest naturally aspirated non-diesel four-cylinder hot hatch in Europe. The 30th Anniversary edition that we have also offers Japan-only features like tinted rear windows, blazing red Recaro seats, and red floormats. And in very un-Type R fashion, it goes a little overboard in reminding you what car you're driving with Type R logos on the front and back bumpers, floormats, gauge cluster, even the sliding cover concealing the cup holder. And that's in addition to the usual giveaways like titanium shift knob and near-eight grand redline.
Gotta admit that some of the mystique has disappeared with the current CTR, and it's not because of the overbadging. If you wanted to be crass, you could say that it's essentially a Civic Si with an RSX Type S engine and transmission. There's no doubt that the suspension is more Si than traditional R. It's been set up more for cruisin' than bruisin'. And in terms of classic Type R standards, the CTR has gained some weight. The Anniversary edition comes with a stereo and CD player, power windows and locks, and (dear God) air conditioning. Not very R, indeed. Even the trademark red valve cover is a bit deceiving because the 2.0L DOHC i-VTEC engine that's underneath it more or less can be found inside the RSX Type S.
Having said all that, no one can deny the greatness of the combination. Two hundred high-revving horses and 147 lb-ft of torque inside a 2,600-pound hot hatch is nothing to sneeze at. In the U.K., gas comes at a minimum of 95 octane (along with a 97 octane option) and that's like feeding Kate Moss fine-cut Copenhagen. The engine responds instantly and rev noise elevates from a civilized idle to Iron Maiden in seconds. The dash-mounted six-speed tranny is classic Honda. The gear ratio is similar to that in the Si. But powered by the Type R engine, there's an initial pull in First gear that never disappears all the way up the register.