Chrysler 300 SRT8 Core

 

Day1:

I stepped off my jet at Brisbane airport and walked the short distance across the tarmac to the reception lounge. The air was sticky and thick making the sub-tropical tag, that Brisvegas proudly wears, feel somewhat inadequate. It was like a scene from AbFab as I felt and attack of the vapours coming on. I was once a Queensland native, and this dense atmosphere was one I looked backed on with less than undiluted pleasure. A dear sister from those halcyon days met me at the airport to convey me to my digs in a suburb overlooking the city. One get used to the basics of life, champers, nibbles, and above all, air conditioning. To my chagrin, The Lady Grey’s ancient car had air conditioning that had developed a severe personality issue. I sulked for the entire trip to the soutside. Since I wasn’t to collect my Chrysler 300 SRT Core until the following day so had to suck it up. We climbed the stairs of the MacMansion, dripping with sweat. I don’t like to sweat at 8pm unless there has been rigorous porking beforehand but I mustn’t grumble. I was there only a moment when my host shoved a welcome bevy into my right hand, and the world shifted back onto the correct axis.

Retired to my room, no air!

Day2:

I slept badly. Sweat dripped into cracks I didn’t know were there. The MacMansion’s communal areas have air but the bedrooms go begging. What the hell is wrong with these people? I’ve committed to sleeping on the generous comfy lounge with the air set on “Arctic”. Doors and windows now closed, the atmosphere has become less Sahara and far more civilised.

The Lady Grey collected me after a delicious morning tea to take me to collect the 300. The day was hotter than the day before and I continued a bit of grumbling. We sweated some more.

The Chrysler looks great. I’ve driven it before but the “Core” is the base model, if you can call it that. It is a pretty moody-blue and looks even more like a Gay Mafia Staff Car than the red one we had last time. We dumped LG’s ancient saloon in favour of American muscle and went off to lunch. I fielded a few questions from LG which were no doubt asked out of politeness. I don’t think cars are a strong suit.

I dropped LG back at the carpark and headed back to my digs. I’ve discovered Queensland has become slightly Naziesque with the speeding tolerances. The drivers here are now doing 10KPH below the limit out of fear of their Oberführers. Speaking of which I’m keeping my licence hidden as it has a motor bike endorsement. You get arrested here if you look like you have ridden a bike. Mental note: leave Queensland ASAP.

Too hot to do anything but lock the house down and pretend I’m somewhere else. Hmm, the SRT is parked in the sun, bugger.

Day3:

Gateway bridge brisbane (2)A quick breakfast then out into the relentless heat. I’m heading over the gateway bridge and on to the Sunshine Coast. I thought a mountain drive might be cooler. It wasn’t.

The bridge is a master piece and has been duplicated since it was built 20 years ago. They renamed it but no body knows what the new name is.

The roads are diabolical here with ruts and potholes you could lose a bus in. The inadequate repairs fill me with dread, but with the suspension set on “ normal” it is barely noticeable. I wonder what their road taxes pay for? It certainly isn’t for resurfacing.

The Core doesn’t have all the goodies that the SRT 8 has as standard but you would never know. Performance is identical so only a keen eye can spot the difference.

Monteville Queensland Sunshine Coast (4)I took a spin up in to the mountains and very nice it was too. I found mysel