'Upset the boss?' my neighbour asked as I washed the Skoda on my driveway. Stepping down (quite literally) from a £60K Range Rover Supercharged Sport into a £19K Skoda Octavia estate provided much amusement to naive neighbours and friends alike. I didn’t mind, though – variety is the spice of life.

My Skoda arrived at Evo Towers wearing the famous green brake callipers (they’re red on newer models) that showed it was the vRS model and thus the most powerful Skoda to come out of the Mladá Boleslav factory to date. With VAG’s 197bhp TFSI engine up front and Golf underpinnings, the vRS is basically a Golf GTI in sports casuals, although ours looked quietly purposeful with its optional 18in wheels (£300), Race Blue metallic paint (£315) and xenon headlights (£550). OY06 VFG also benefited from rear parking sensors (£260) and a trip computer (£90), both of which were welcome practical additions.

While the vRS was maybe not the most evo-centric of cars, its ability to cover ground in an effortless fashion never failed to impress. The bodyshell felt massively stiff for an estate, which no doubt contributed to the superb ride quality and the lack of creaks and rattles inside, and although the Octavia has a softer set-up than the Golf GTI, it firmed up nicely at speed and never bottomed out.

In fact, thanks to the unflappable poise of the chassis and the way the suspension flattened all the bumps and cambers that were thrown at it, I often glanced down at the speedo to discover I was travelling a good 10-15mph faster than ought to have felt comfortable. Perhaps the only downside was that you never felt quite as connected to the action as you’d like, but this is a large, family-sized estate we’re talking about, remember.

The torquey turbocharged engine was another vRS strong point. Requiring few gearchanges when pressing on, you could keep both hands on the wheel more of the time, allowing you to stay relaxed as you concentrated on flowing from corner to corner. Add in xenon headlights and strong (if grabby) brakes for extra confidence, and I reckon there are few cars that would go much quicker down an unfamiliar B-road on a wet night.

With ESP engaged, the vRS still allowed you to play a bit with the throttle to tighten or widen your cornering lines, though I found it intrusive if you wanted to really gun it out of a corner with a little spin from the inside wheel to keep you informed of how much power you could feed in. In these circumstances ESP tended to cut the power and juggle with individual brakes in the cause of safe handling. Once activated it was a bit sluggish to disengage, so when you grabbed the next gear it felt as though you had a slipping clutch because it wouldn’t allow you full access to those 197 horses.

Disabling ESP was one option, but doing so required a cautious approach when the roads were damp. Same scenario, ESP off: clip the apex of the corner and power out; inside wheel breaks traction, turbo spins up, both wheels break traction, understeer. Ease off the throttle, turbo spins momentarily longer than you’d expect, as do the front wheels, putting you quite a way off line. It caught me out a few times, so during the winter I tended to leave the ESP to do its stuff.

Being an estate, the Octavia was always in demand as a workhorse, and on that front it couldn’t be faulted. It handled shopping trips to DIY stores, carried amps and guitars for Tomalin’s band and was cast as the unseen and unsung hero of many a group test. The high point was probably when it acted as Gus Gregory’s holdall and chase car for the fastest group test in the world (evar!), tailing a Veyron, a Carrera GT, a Zonda and an Enzo across France (evo 096). Photographers always appreciated the Skoda’s pace, fine ride and massive boot – perfect for getting around with vast amounts of camera gear. Its fuel efficiency was kind to our accounts, too.

I was in France later in the year for our annual Car of the Year contest, although this time the Skoda was left at evo HQ to have a well-earned rest. But after two weeks spent driving the year’s best cars, I couldn’t wait to get back to it. Mind, that was partly because, when we stopped at M΢con on the journey home, I realised I had another 800 miles to go to make a wedding the next morning – and I was driving an Elise. The Lotus’s new ProBax seats may be surprisingly comfortable, but it’s a noisy place to be, so I was glad to get back into the Octavia for the final leg of the journey from Evo Towers to Holmfirth, Yorkshire.

It felt like watching an old-fashioned 4:3 TV after the 16:9, high-definition experience of the Lotus, but while the lofty roof, light gearchange, slightly vague (though well-weighted) steering, and dull (if throaty) engine note didn’t always get the pulse racing, on long journeys you were never left wanting. In fact a dead-of-the-night run from Carlisle to London in a little over four hours was enough to make me question why you’d ever need a ‘Grand Tourer’ for any reason other than to show off.

The Octavia was always a pleasant place to be, with amazingly comfortable seats, a spot-on driving position, a fine stereo, relaxed gearing and virtually no wind noise (strangely, when I tried a hatchback version of the vRS I noticed it had loads of noise around the B- to C-pillar area). Passengers in the back did sometimes complain about the exhaust and tyre noise, though, some of which might have been down to the inside edges of the rear tyres being worn away prematurely. Apparently Skoda has now revised the geometry settings to solve both the noise and the uneven tyre wear.

There was just one major concern in our 24,000 miles with the vRS: at around 16,000 miles a metallic knocking noise started coming from the front end, along with what felt like the effects of a knackered front damper. The knocking could be detected through the pedals, too. When one morning it felt as though the front wheels were about to fall off, I checked the wheel nuts were tight and headed straight for the local dealer.

They diagnosed a loose steering arm, which is a common fault it seems. It’s a simple fix, but you can’t help but think of the nasty scenarios this problem could lead to. I have a sneaking suspicion that the same fault may have returned to our car the day before it left us, too, as I could detect a slight weaving/floating sensation similar to the one I experienced prior to the knocking noise appearing the first time.

In most respects, though, the Octavia emerged from its year with us feeling fresh and fit. Only its interior hinted at the intense use it had been subjected to – there were quite a few light scuffs on the plastic parts, and the seats looked a little ‘used’. A thorough clean didn’t improve things, either, which may suggest the materials used in a Skoda aren’t of the same quality as those in a VW.

But that’s a minor niggle. Just about everything about this car was easy and hassle-free; all you had to do was load it and drive it. It might not be the sort of car you’d look back at admiringly in the car park, but the Octavia vRS was not only a practical tool for work but an accommodating and comfortable family motor and an engagingly sporty hatch – and all at a third of the cost of my old Rangey Sport.