Outside, A6 is bigger than the best-selling Toyota Camry. But inside, the Audi has the same amount of room, and the illusion is of less. For instance, the sweeping roofline, which creates a striking arch, is low enough to strike your noggin as you get in if you don't lean backward a bit, twist and duck. The back should be considered a two-seater. There's a belt in the middle, but there's a rump-rejecting center hump, too.
Nooks are small.
A minuscule drawer pops out from the dash but stows no more than nose studs and tummy rings you want to unhook after a hard day supersizing. The center console has a modest-size hole inside the clamshell armrest but won't hold much more than your small cellular phone and checkbook. The door panels have lovely, tilt-out holders for maps and such, but forget the such if there are maps in there. Summarizing Audi's unsympathetic approach to U.S. conditions, there's no single spot big enough to dump all your junk when you clamber aboard, disarrayed, distressed, disheveled and distracted as you head to work. Most vehicles have a big enough space in or near the center console to handle lots of debris, but not A6.