Long Term Test: Opel Meriva

Ahhh, kids. Wonderful little things. So full of life, of fun, of energy. They are the future, you know. Of course, they’re also insane little tyrants, harbingers of jam-encrusted doom and the bane of every car designer. It is virtually impossible to design a car that can keep kids happy on a long journey and still keep it within the bounds of affordability. The only option I can think of would be a Mercedes Sprinter with a built-in Pixar-only cinema, a ball-pit and panoramic side windows. And it would all have to be hose-out.

Well, while I’m dreaming about that, here comes Opel’s Meriva for an extended stay at eDrive Towers, where the eDrive Junior 1 (6 years old) and eDrive Junior 2 (not quite 2 yet) will be able to do things, drop things and spread things that even Opel’s finest engineers at Russelsheim won’t have been able to think of.

It makes a good first impression, the Meriva. It looks good in its oh-so-trendy white paint job and the styling is about as handsome and distinctive as you could expect of a me-too mono-volume MPV. The little kinks in the window line atop the rear doors are questionable, aesthetically, but they do allow a better view out for rear seat passengers, and that’s a good thing.

Inside, the cabin trim is essentially lifted straight from the Astra which is in turn lifted more or less straight from the Insignia, so you’re getting very high quality and a good level of spec. Our SC spec car came with the optional Winter Pack which includes heated front seats and a heated steering wheel, which would have seemed a bit ridiculous if not for the fact that April brought a sudden cold snap with it. The seats themselves are covered in an interesting space-agey style cloth that seems very hard-wearing and (hopefully) stain resistant. Number 2 Son will be putting that to a rigorous examination shortly.

Out back there’s a decent 397-litre boot, that can be expanded by flipping the rear seats down to a whopping 1,400-litres if you load it to the roof. Those rear seats can also do a neat trick. Fold the centre seat flat and the outer two can slide back and inwards to create more leg and shoulder-room. It’s a system that was pioneered on the first generation Meriva, but I seem to recall that the effect was greater on the old car; the amount of movement doesn’t seem as great here.

And of course, there’s the doors. The tradition is to call them ‘Suicide’ doors, which seems a touch harsh (the name is alleged to come from the thirties gangster era; it’s a lot easier to shove some poor patsy from a moving car if the wind is holding the door open for you). Opel would prefer you call them FlexDoors and they are a neat and useful little innovation. To be fair, you probably need to be loading kids in and out of the back to appreciate them to the fullest. They’re most useful when fitting big, heavy child safety seats. In a conventional car, you would have to open the door, lean in and twist yourself around to fit the seat and anchor the seatbelt. With the Meriva, you pop the door and lean straight in, in the direction you need to. Besides, the kids really do love them. At least so far, the doors are a pleasing novelty when climbing aboard.

A final note about the engine. Opel has given us the 130bhp 1.7 CDTI engine to test, which is a bit of an old stager, with its roots in an Isuzu-sourced unit from the early nineties. It’s been fitted since with the latest injection and emissions systems, and the power output and economy figures (5.3-litres per 100km, 139g/km of Co2) seem just fine, but will it give its age away in refinement or performance terms? We’ll see.

For now though, the Meriva is settling in nicely to a bit of hard family work. Outings are being planned, liberal use is being made by certain passengers of the fold-down tables in the back and the space and ease of use granted by those clever doors are more than welcome.

It’s even proving good to drive so far, an occasionally too-firm ride apart. So, can the Meriva, with its trick doors and stylish cabin, finally make family MPV motoring seem like worth having kids for?

Long Term Test: Citroen C3 Picasso, 2nd Report

A few thoughts on our long term test C3 Picasso, mostly inspired by a long motorway journey with the kids on board...

1. That fish-bowl windscreen and the v-cut a-pillars really do give a fantastic view out. No more having your vision blocked through long corners or losing sight of pedestrians behind the a-pillar. It's like having your own portable IMAX theatre. Now showing: your life.

2. Subsequent to the above, the kids in the back have an almost equally good view out thanks to large windows and a low-set beltline. Crucial for establishing harmony on a long journey.

3. The way Citroen has managed to did space in this thing continues to baffle me. The C3 hatchback it shares components with is not the most spacious thing in the world, and the Picasso is unfashionably narrow, yet it is remarkably commodious. You can even get three child seats across the back bench at a pinch, our massive 3-wheel Phil&Teds buggy fits in the boot without overwhelming the boot and there's plenty of room up front too.y wife has described it as "the best family car ever" and I'm having a hard time disagreeing with her on that.

4. Its fuel economy is unspectacular but remarkably constant. 6.0-litres per 100km (mid forties MPG) is hardly cutting edge for a small, relatively light car running an efficient 1.6 diesel but it doesn't seem to matter what we do: Urban stop-start, long motorway hauls, trips to the petting zoo, the economy holds constant.

5. It looks utterly brilliant. I know ours is the specced up Code edition and the red-insert wheels and gleaming white paintwork really lift the Picasso'a game, but there simply isn't a better looking small MPV out there. Every other such car just looks like a tall hatchback or a shrunken van. The Picasso looks like nothing else and I love that. Not everyone will, true enough, but it's almost worth the €20k purchase price alone to see how the C3 stands out in a car park full of me-too silver-grey-black hatches and saloons.

6. Croissant crumbs and flakes are almost impossible to hoover up. Must stop stopping at Gourmet Tart Company for in-car snacks.

Long Term Test: Citroen C3 Picasso, 1st report

As a professional hurler on the ditch (I rate cars but very rarely actually buy one) I have long extolled the merits of the Citroen C3 Picasso. Yes it’s French and yes it’s quirky (two things more or less guaranteed to have arch-conservative Irish car buyers heading for the door) but I’ve always reckoned it to be the pick of the mini MPV brigade. In a sea of plainly-styled tall hatchbacks, the Picasso is a cubist painting of a car, and therefore the most appropriately named Citroen Picasso yet (Picasso was a cubist, right?).


Of course, underneath it’s all simple C3 mechanical parts. Now, the C3 itself is a pleasant but ultimately unremarkable small hatch, but already it has donated its oily bits to one of the most enjoyable hot hatches out there; the cute and fun DS3. Can lightning strike again, but in an entirely different section of the market? Time to put my money where my opinions are...

Well, first impressions. Our C3 Picasso rocked up on the driveway looking a bit more distinctive even than the already left-field standard car. Bright white paintwork could have made it look like a delivery van, but the Code special edition trim (costing €21,250 to the standard VTR+’s €20,850) brings with it glossy black inserts around the grille and lights, red piping on the side trim and, best of all, seriously cool alloy wheels with red inserts on the inside of the spokes. It must be the big kid in me, but I really love these.

Inside, you get an excellent level of standard kit including air conditioning, Bluetooth phone, cruise control and speed limiter and an iPod-compatible stereo.

In the back, where the non-big-kids go, there’s a decent amount of space. The Picasso is kind of unfashionably narrow, which means squeezing people into the centre rear seats will take some... well, squeezing, but two up in the back should have plenty of room, and if you need to juggle things around to make some space, the seats split, fold, flip and recline.

Up front, you would think that the narrowness would have driver and passenger rubbing shoulders, but actually there’s plenty of room and the upright driving position is very comfy.

Beyond the driver lies the familiar 90bhp, 230Nm 1.6-litre four cylinder diesel engine. It’s a touch noisier in this installation than we’ve noticed it being in other cars, but it’s still adequately refined. And pretty economical. Our average is currently working out at 6.1-litres per 100km (46.3mpg) but that can improve by a whole litre or more on a gently driven long run and seeing as most of our daily mileage is around town, 46mpg seems pretty good. Besides, and this is a purely subjective thing, it does seem to go forever on a fill of the tank.

What we really love, so far, about the C3 Picasso is its combination of style and practicality. The cabin is robustly built but still looks and feels a cut above the likes of a Toyota Verso-S, there’s lots of space but it feels terrifically wieldy in town and is a cinch to park (excellent visibility through massive windows helps there) and while many would accuse it of being a mumsy people mover, your 6’1” most-definitely-male correspondent feels entirely happy pootling around in it.

So, life feels pretty good in the Picasso household at the moment. No, it’s not a hot hatch to drive, but then it was never supposed to be. It’s showing none of the build frailties that French cars are supposedly prone to and frankly, if you’re going to have a practical family car, why shouldn’t it look this good?