What do you call a Skoda with a sunroof? A skip! Oh, how we laughed. It was the ‘90s, after all, and we laughed often. But the oft-told joke, a leftover of the previous decade when Skoda's output really was stuck in the ’60s, retained a kernel of truth. Try as it might (and like the rest of the Czech Republic after the fall of Communism, it was trying very hard indeed), Skoda could not immediately overcome its poor man of Europe reputation. Even with the arrival of Volkswagen’s cash and nous in 1991, there was still a persistent whiff of Soviet-era planned economies about the firm’s lineup, even in the modernised (but still resolutely dour) Felicia launched in 1994.
The first Octavia, introduced in 1996, proved as fundamental to its maker as caffeine is to Coca-Cola. Its name might have been sourced from Skoda's history books, but the car was built on VW’s PQ34 platform (shared with the Golf, as all subsequent variants would be) and designed by Luc Donckerwolke - a man already limbering up for a sensational stint at Lamborghini. Its basic good looks helped convince buyers that the model’s practicality, bargain price and comprehensive access to the VW parts bin made a great deal of sense, and the Mk1 Octavia ate into traditional D-segment sales like a hungry termite almost from day one. Nearly 30 years later, Skoda reckons it has shifted more than seven million examples globally.
Can any one model claim to be so central to a major manufacturer’s reinvention? Sure, the Cayenne is the bedrock that modern-day Porsche is built on, and Nissan spent a decade writing cheques in Europe that could only be cashed thanks to the Qashqai - and clearly there would be no Mini without the R50, nor a thriving Land Rover without the Evoque. But for all their game-changing qualities, very few rival the Octavia for its sustained success, or for helping to change the minds of so many customers. Before the Octavia there was the long shadow of the Iron Curtain; after it, as the current Skoda range amply proves, almost anything was possible.
An early indication of its aspirations arrived in 2001, with the Mk1 facelift. The vRS badge (or simply RS, as it is known on the continent) predates the Octavia thanks to Skoda’s sporadic participation in motorsport, but it provided a convenient way to distinguish the new derivative from Audi’s recently launched S3 and VW’s Mk4 GTI. In its lusty but low-key approach to going fast, the first vRS laid the foundation for all that would follow. There was a tailgate spoiler and modestly chunkier bumper to go with its 17-inch alloys - and a very respectable 180hp from the Ingolstadt-sourced 1.8-litre 20-valve four-pot - but the Octavia remained understated. At the time, Skoda had never built a speedier road car, yet to drive the vRS was as buttoned down as an Oxford shirt.
There were wider considerations to take into account, of course, as there are now. The vRS is not intended to vie with the GTI for handling verve, just as it cannot rival the S3 for power or all-wheel-drive performance. Its pigeonhole has always been preordained. But simply by being cheaper and more spacious — and plenty punchy enough for most people — the model found an appreciative audience, especially in the UK. The second and third generation, aside from switching out platforms and adopting the VW Group’s omnipresent 2.0-litre TSI (alongside a diesel offering), did not tamper with a winning formula. By the time the current Mk4 was facelifted last year, the vRS had become DSG and petrol only, and could call upon 265hp. Conceptually though, it has barely changed at all.
Consequently, one of the remarkable things to note about the Octavia today is just how conventional it really is. Or was. Most of its like-minded competition is long gone. The Ford Mondeo is no more. Vauxhall discontinued the Insignia years ago. Even the Passat, a fixture of the Volkswagen lineup since 1973, is offered now only as a glum-looking estate car. Yet you can buy a vRS hatchback in pretty much the same mould as three decades ago. And it’s as spiffy as a blow-dried kitten. Granted, Hyper Green paint (a no-cost option, apparently) does make for an unusually tangy backdrop, but the current model’s nip and tuck has resulted in arguably the most interesting Octavia to look at. Faint praise perhaps, given its plain Jane reputation — although certainly this is the first time I’ve preferred the liftback to the wagon.
The boot is worth fixating on for a moment because it is, and always has been, the model’s trump card. For comparison, the Mk8 Golf GTI offers you a very reasonable 374 litres of usable volume. The Octavia? 600 litres. It’s like opening the lid and discovering Narnia. Accordingly, as any owner will tell you - and not for nothing - the vRS does something the Golf can’t: accommodate a family and its luggage. Or the shopping. Or just about anything else. This trick seemed less impressive when there were other go-faster, mainstream rivals that could stow a photocopier the size of a wheelie bin behind the back seats. Now there aren't any.
Elsewhere, the car does bend to convention. The Octavia has clung onto its physical switchgear more tenaciously than the Golf, yet the vRS’s dashboard is still monopolised by the 13-inch touchscreen plonked on top. You’ll need to engage with this for most functions, although mercifully (and astutely) Skoda swerved the disastrous haptic steering wheel buttons that blighted the Mk8 GTI. As a rule, the manufacturer made a better fist of the MQB architecture across the board, not least in the layout and material choices, though also the fit and finish. Probably that opinion reflects a low regard for the Mk8 — but it is also a facet of Skoda’s assured approach when it comes to balancing functionality, spaciousness, and a soft-pedalled idea of stylishness. In other words, everything it learned from VW about keeping to the middle of the road.
The driving experience, as dependable as day turning into night, is the white line running down the centre. The vRS is adept at meeting expectations, neither promising too much nor underselling itself. Assuming you’ve ticked the box marked Dynamic Chassis Control (which adds the improved bandwidth of adaptive dampers), you might go for miles before you remember to pay it any mind whatsoever. Which is not a criticism; it is a measure of how deft the control surfaces are, how well reconciled the ride is, and how amenable the engine and gearbox seem. It is about ease of use, in other words, about absorbing mile after unrelenting mile, which ought to be the bottom line for any family car, though few are developed to the point where they fade so agreeably into the background. Subjected to the tedium of everyday life, the vRS works like a medium-fast decompression chamber.
The price of all this equanimity is a lack of sweaty-palmed excitement. Traditionally, this has been both the Octavia’s cross to bear and a shortcoming to skewer it on: why wear such patently sensible shoes when Renault, Honda, or Ford will sell you Nomex trainers for not much more? Certainly, the current vRS persists with a long-running bias for directional stability and a forgiving front-drive temperament. It makes no great show of featuring the same VAQ locking diff as the GTI, although it doesn’t typically squander 273lb ft of EA888-supplied torque either. If you're being grown up about it, the vRS will carry speed almost as well as it carries large items. But the job-done nonchalance is much the same, too.
So why be thankful? Well, first and foremost, because the vast majority of the dynamically superior hot hatches have shuffled off in the direction of their D-segment rivals, or are about to. Secondly, against all odds, and despite losing the option of a diesel motor, the vRS retains an honest-to-goodness four-cylinder petrol engine, unencumbered by hybridisation or the payload that comes with it. Thirdly, while Skoda doesn’t boast about its kerb weight, the fact that the Octavia weighs about a tonne less than most EVs its size is a gift that keeps on giving everywhere. Its comparative straightforwardness - always a facet of the vRS, but underrated until now - seems like a veritable tonic if you’ve been sampling any of the battery-powered options that make Skoda’s perennial straight man look and sound like Kriss Akabusi.
Finally, there is the endearing fact of its survival. Click on the Skoda UK tab for ‘SUVs’ and you will be confronted with 23 trim options across five models - with more to come. In 2022, the manufacturer sold fewer than half as many Octavias globally as it did ten years earlier. The writing is ultimately on the wall for what has swiftly become an outlier, at least in its current format. Much like future versions of the VW Golf, Skoda’s touchstone will eventually be made to move with the times; it has already hinted at what this might look like. Regardless, it will not be the car we’ve become accustomed to and certainly any derivative called vRS will be very different. Excuse enough, if you’re partial to well-made, shrewdly developed and satisfyingly fast hatchbacks, to seize upon the incumbent while you still can. Like much else about the last 30 years, it will be sorely missed when it’s finally gone.
SPECIFICATION | 2025 SKODA OCTAVIA VRS
Engine: 1,984cc, four-cyl turbo
Transmission: 7-speed DSG, front-wheel drive
Power (hp): 265@5,250-6,500rpm
Torque (lb ft): 273@1,600-4,500rpm
0-62mph: 6.4 seconds
Top speed: 155mph
Weight: 1,504kg
MPG: 40.8 (WLTP)
CO2: 158g/km (WLTP)
Price: £38,670 (£40,055 as tested)
1 / 18