"Oh, they have an orange one!" cried Ms. D, the delight in her voice crackling through the early evening air. "I've never seen that color of orange driving around, have you?" I told her that I hadn't. I also mentioned, for the second time, that we weren't here to look at a VW Beetle. "Well, which one are we supposed to look at?" she asked, irritated at the interruption of her reverie. I pointed to the model in question and told her I wanted her opinion on the Volkswagen Golf.

"Well, I don't like the name."

In a continuing quest to find a suitable replacement for our 1986 Toyota Tercel AWD wagon, I'd stopped into the VW dealer a few weeks prior and taken a Golf TDI model out for a spin. The TDI designation means it's a Turbo Diesel—a 1.9-liter four-cylinder that puts a whopping 90 horses on the ground. Impressed?

OK, how about this one—with a manual transmission, this model gets 49 MPG on the highway, according to VW. When I hear numbers like that, they make me want to work some math—like, for instance, figuring out that you can go over 700 miles on a tank of gas (14.5 gallons). From Jackson, that's enough gas to get to Atlanta and back, or nearly three-quarters of the way to Washington, D.C.

A four-door Golf TDI doesn't offer quite the hauling capacity I'm used to with our compact wagon—the rear luggage space is a little tight, offering only 18 cubic feet of capacity. Drop the back seats (which offers a 60/40 split), and you'll get a full 42 cubic feet, perfect for two of us traveling the back roads to the Coast—any coast, actually.

I finally convinced Ms. D to tear away from the Beetles and walk around the Golf just as the sun started setting. "Well, if it wasn't sitting right next to the Beetle, I'd say it's OK looking. Kinda a little European box." She particularly liked the flexible whip antennae mounted on the roof at the back, giving it a sporty, youthful effect. (The Golf is actually very popular in Europe, according to Jaro, our Czech photographer, who has friends who trick them out, accessorize them and race them.) "They just shouldn't put it so close to the Beetles."

I like the styling of the Golf, which is understated and, yes, a little boxy, but in a classy way. Unlike the Ford Focus, a major competitor, it hasn't succumbed to a swoopy front end that's supposed to suggest "sporty" (and suggests something more like "rental car" to me), nor does VW feel it needs to toss in some Matchbox-car qualities the way Honda has designed the most recent Civic Hatchbacks. Instead, the Golf stays serviceable in styling, offering shiny paint, nice wheels and a look that would be at home in the Alps, the Riviera or on a long-distance jaunt across Oklahoma.

The interior is comfortable and attractive—I like the steering wheel, the dark black plastics used throughout and the blue lights behind the gauges. Seating is cozy—there isn't much in the way of sweeping cab-forward design here, so the passenger legroom isn't everything it could be. Like many German cars, the Golf offers some difficult-to-decipher international symbols on controls; the Japanese seem to be much better at it. (The Golf is manufactured in Mexico, incidentally, in case you're keeping score.)

Although I'm not a fan of the materials that VW uses on their seats (I like the tight weave of the fabrics that Honda uses in many of its cars), the rest of the Golf experience is enjoyable. The base models offer a great set of standard features—an eight-speaker CD/Cassette stereo, remote door locks, power windows and mirrors, tilt wheel, cruise, AC, security system and more. There's even a power socket in the cargo area, so you can pretend you've got a little SUV. (Hey, those little AC-powered coolers can be handy on the road.) And the Golf is filled up with safety features, including standard airbags, side-impact airbags, overhead airbags and four-wheel ABS-equipped disc brakes. It also sports an engine-killing anti-theft alarm and security system, daytime running lights, auto-locking doors and a rear wiper for the hatch.

Having said that, the base price for this compact is about $17,000, which is a bit more than other compact competitors, so I wouldn't exactly call those features freebies. The diesel adds over $1,000 to the price compared to the gasoline 4-cylinder model, but it's worth it over the life of the car in efficiency. The sunroof-equipped GLS model starts around $18,700 before destination charges.

The feeling of the car is very European—it handles tightly and has a jaunty disposition. It's sporty and practical at the same time. I was particularly surprised by the responsiveness of the diesel engine; the throaty little turbo adds power all along the curve of the tachometer and not just at the high-end like some of those old turbo Mustang SVOs and Dodges that passed as sports cars in the '80s.

Instead, this turbo just seems to help a small engine pull a little better—there's plenty of pass-and-go with the manual transmission to make this a totally practical and fun commuter or a snappy little cross-country traveler. I could see myself in a Golf, counting the miles per gallon.

Ms. D wasn't exactly won over, yet, a problem that I chalk up to the proximity of the Beetle. And, of course, there's the name.

"A Golf?" she chided. "I wouldn't drive a Tennis or a Croquet, either."

But she would drive something called "a Beetle?" I retorted, cleverly.
She stared at me for a moment and then tossed her head. In Kennedy-esque accent (or her best approximation) she said dramatically:

"Squash, anyone?"