Road Test: Volvo XC60 Ocean Race AWD

Price as tested: €47,757

+ Looks, beautiful cabin, decent economy, ride comfort
– Awkward driving position, roly-poly handling
= Looks better down the yacht club than most

Galway resident that I am, I guess the Volvo Ocean Race means a bit more to me than just the badge on the side of a few posh Swedish motors. It’s a bi-annual pageant that’s coming to the West again this year, bringing with racing yachts, a truly global competition, a party atmosphere and the inevitable face paint stalls. It’s fun.

To mark the occasion, Volvo has of course produced a series of cars that tie in with the firm’s sponsorship of this famous round-the-world race for big sailing yachts. Tick the VOR box on your order form, and you get nice chrome kick plates, soft leather upholstery with ‘sail-inspired stitching’ and (this is my favourite bit) a loop of sail rope to pull the luggage cover back and forth with.

Underneath our Ocean Race spec XC60 was something rather more unusual. All wheel drive. Now, when the XC60 was originally launched back in 2008, it debuted as a four wheel drive car, but when the front-drive DRIVEe version was launched in 2010, we all figured that the all-paw XC60 was dead and dusted. After all, what would be the point in spending more money, more tax and more fuel on a car that’s never going to go off-road anyway?

Well, the winter snows of 2011 put paid to that assertion, and so Volvo was keen to point out that yes, you can still get an XC60 that lives up to the billing of its chunky, handsome bodywork and high ride height. We didn’t get the snow, but it could come back at any moment...

While the all-wheel-drive traction is certainly a welcome returner and it has its uses even if winter has become spring and is heading once again for summer, let’s be totally shallow and admit the real reason we like the XC60 so much; the way it looks. Yes, yes, skin deep beholders and all, this is a seriously handsome car and the VOR-spec Electric Silver Metallic paint really shows off the lines to great effect.

That beauty continues inside, where the gorgeous biscuit leather upholstery, faultless ergonomics and pretty main dials all work their usual Volvo magic. Ah, but there’s a flaw and quite a serious one. This is the first time we’d ever driven an XC60 with a manual gearbox and it has shown up a quite awful deficiency in the driving position. Quite simple, the seat points one way and the wheels and pedals point another. In fact, so bad is the offset that the only way to drive the XC60 comfortably was to steer with the right hand while resting the left on the gearshift. It honestly felt like steering from the wrong side of the car and brought on swift and merciless backache. Considering Volvo’s hitherto unimpeachable reputation for comfort, this needs sorting, and fast.

Mechanically, all is well though. The 2.4-litre five-cylinder diesel engine is not long for this world, being as Volvo is committed to replacing all its current engines with a new family of four-cylinder petrol and diesel turbos, no bigger than 2.0-litres. That’s a shame as it’s one of the very few truly characterful diesels around. With five pots beating, it sounds great when revved hard and is very refined at all other times. Decently economical too. Volvo claims 5.7-litres per 100km for the car, which you’ll never manage, but our average of 6.9l/100km seems about right for a 4wd car of this size. It’s also surprisingly sprightly, with a big slug of 420Nm of torque punching hard from low down the rev range, making it feel just a touch of a GTI SUV...

Handling wise, it’s a bit of a mixed bag. Thanks to long springs and high profile tyres, the ride is very comfy and well sorted, but the handling does suffer from too much body roll, all of which seems to happen early and at low speeds. This means that the XC is actually better on a country road than it is in town, where roundabouts can make it feel a touch lumbering and lurchy. The feel-free steering, which weights up a bit oddly depending on what you’re doing, doesn’t help either. Best to stay on the motorway, where the XC60 is in it’s element, swishing quietly along and a loping, friendly efficiency.

For the rest of the practical stuff, the rear seats are decently spacious and the boot, although a little shallower than is ideal, is fine.

So, if we get snow in July, just in time for the Volvo Ocean Race to return to Galway, XC60 AWD owners could well be quids in. As will anyone who decides to buy on; it’s a very likeable, pretty and practical car. Fix the awful driving position and there’s no doubt that this would be our favourite compact SUV.


Facts & Figures

Volvo XC60 VOR AWD D3
Price: €47,757
Range price: €43,707 to €58,445
Capacity: 2,400cc
Power: 163bhp
Torque: 420Nm
Top speed: 195
0-100kmh: 10.5sec
Economy: 5.7l-100km (49.6mpg)
CO2 emissions: 149g/km
Tax Band: C. €330 road tax
Euro NCAP rating: 5-star: 94% adult, 79% child, 48% pedestrian, 86% safety assist

Road Test: Ford Mondeo 1.6 TDCI Titanium

Price as tested: €32,311

+ Handsome looks, gorgeous cabin, brilliant chassis, frugal engine
– S-Max more versatile, C-Max more affordable, soon to be replaced
= It may be plain wrapper, but the Mondeo is still solid gold all the way through


I seem to have been driving a gaggle of Fords lately, all of them slightly different, at different stages of their commercial and technical lives and yet all anchored around a familiar focal point; the Mondeo.

The Mondeo, a name that first came to us aboard Ford's epochal 1993 Sierra replacement, has become an Acme in so many ways. For a time, before the inexorable rise of the premium brands, it was the vehicular encapsulation of the motoring middle class. So much so, that in his 1997 run for the British premiership, Tony Blair actively courted and wooed 'Mondeo Man.'

That stands true for Irish motorists too, for the Mondeo has always been a strong seller here in its two and a bit decades, usually loitering near the top end of the top ten and pleasing, in its unassuming way, both business and family customers.

Its ubiquity has been under threat over the past decade though by the likes of the Volkswagen Passat and Toyota Avensis (an intra-class struggle) and, when cheap financing became available, the BMW 3 Series ( a classically Marxist class war). After all, if the monthly repayments were much the same, wouldn't you rather have a Munich badge on your keyring?

That competition stirred Ford to great lengths though. The 2000-2006 Mondeo was always a fine car to drive, well made and spacious, but it lacked the stylistic or qualitative appeal of the German car. The 2007 Mondeo, the one that is still with us, changed that utterly, granting the Mondeo genuinely handsome looks and a cabin that was close to equalling the BMW in terms of sheer class, and besting it for space.

Now, the current Mondeo is coming to the end of its life, and faces not just competition from the hordes of similar saloons and premium brands but also some internecine rivalry from the other three Fords I've been driving lately; the C-Max, the S-Max and the Kuga.

Let's take the Mondeo first. While many of us now deride the conventional four-box family saloon as moribund, there is a compelling reason for its becoming the archetype of the everyday car; it works. And as a Mondeo, it must be said, it works a damn sight better than most. Our test car came in black, which not only served to highlight its snazzy new LED daytime running lights but also brought with it a brooding sense of being Government Issue; a men-in-black appeal that is alien to many but seductive to a certain type of unreconstructed comic book fan. Ahem.

Inside, while the pleasant silvery surfaces of the centre console have been replaced with a plain-jane black finish, the levels of quality on offer are genuinely second to none. Our (pricey) Titanium spec car came with part-Alcantara seats that cosseted and lovely soft-touch surfaces and expensive looking dials and digital displays that pleased. Only a malfunctioning Bluetooth connection blotted the copybook. There remains proper lounging space in the back for six footers, and the boot is ever cavernous.

A 1.6-litre engine in such a large car (easily matching a nineties Scorpio against the measuring tape) would once have seemed a bad joke but the 110bhp 1.6 TDCI diesel acquits itself well. It will never qualify for the Indy 500, but it pulls with reasonable strength, cruises with a hushed rumble and returned, in our hands, a 6.0-litres per 100km fuel average; not as good as advertised but not bad, and 114g/km means you benefit from the lowest tax band.

As ever, it is the Mondeo's chassis that leaves the strongest impression. Ford, since 1993, has believed strongly that a car which pleases enthusiasts is equally (if subconsciously) pleasing to dunder-heads and that's a tough argument to quibble with. I've always felt that a car that feeds information back to the driver with proper clarity, even if that information isn't properly understood, is a safer car than some light-to-the-touch car which seeks to distance the driver from the action. A majority of drivers may not understand the nuances of steering feel or dynamic balance, but if the car is telling them what it's up to, at least they have that information to work with, whatever they may choose to do with it.

Whatever, the Mondeo retains the best dynamic repertoire in the class, matching engagement with comfort in a near-perfect balance, and that’c combined with impressive safety levels, especially given our car’s optional (€811) Driver Assistance pack, which includes a blind spot monitor, lande departure warning and self-dipping high-beam lights, amongst other useful safety and convenience toys.

So what can the likes of the C-Max or S-Max offer against this? Well, both can offer a similar feel of quiet sophistication (the S-Max sharing many of the Mondeo's cabin fittings and much of its chassis deportment) and both have the same, gorgeously liquid feel to drive. The C-Max's Focus-derived cabin can't match the Mondeo or the S for class, but it feels rigorously well built and both cars are above the class average for refinement. Both make compelling alternatives to the Mondeo's mainstream, and the C-Max’s sharp pricing can make the Titanium spec Mondeo look dangerously overpriced.

The runt of the litter here is the Kuga. It's up for replacement very shortly, which explains many of its shortcomings, but one must remember that the current Mondeo was launched at much the same time and that was worn its years with a deal more grace. The Kuga still looks fresh and pleasing from the outside, but once inside its case quickly dissolves. The cabin is lifted more or less directly from the previous generation Focus and looks and feels appalling cheap. The driving position is too perched up. The 2.0 TDCI engine is noisy in this application and unnecessarily thirsty. Even dynamically, the Kuga falls flat, lurching around on a too-high centre of gravity and exhibiting none of the liquid assurance of any of the other three.

So which one to go for? Well, the Kuga's out straight away and I'll give the C-Max the next bullet, not because of any particular shortcoming (aside from an comically slow-moving powered tailgate, an utterly pointless option) but simply because it lacks the final sheen of quality and sophistication of the other two. Then again, it is significantly more affordable, spec-for-spec, so perhaps that is only right and proper.

While my family man instincts should draw me to the S-Max, and while I do find its style and dynamic abilities (it remains the only MPV that's truly satisfying to drive) appealing, it's the supposedly humble Mondeo I'm going to plump for. It remains a remarkably talented car, one that can be affordably purchased (new or secondhand) by a vast swathe of the motoring populace who probably don't even realise the Wilsonian levels of never having had it so good that they're getting in to. Like the Kuga, the Mondeo is up for replacement in the next six months, but unlike the SUV, you'd never know it; it's going out at the absolute peak of its talents. It's supposedly humble Ford that's as good to drive, to sit in and to live with as any of the more expensive premium badge rivals and one that, five years on, remains the benchmark vehicle for all of its class competitors. Conventional? Yes. Predictable? Certainly? Satisfying? Very. Being different isn't all it's cracked up to be.


Facts & Figures

Ford Mondeo 1.6 TDCI Titanium
Price as tested:€32,311
Range price: €26,295 to €40,851
Cubic capacity: 1,560
Power: 115bhp
Torque: 270Nm
Maximum speed: 190kmh
0-100kmh: 11.9secs
Fuel consumption: 4.3l/100km (65.6mpg)
Co2 emissions: 114g/km
Tax band: A (€160)
EuroNCAP rating: 5-star adult, 4-star child, 2-star pedestrian

Road Test: Renault Laguna 2.0 dCi Initiale

Price as tested: €27,990

In brief: As comfy and luxurious as a French express should be, but lacking in style both inside and out.


When Gustav Eiffel erected the vast ironwork tower that bears his name it was done with the kind of exacting precision that you would think impossible in the 19th Century. Those vast legs that support the first platform (and indeed the entire structure) could not be more than a half of one degree out of line when their vast sand supports were removed and the structure became load-bearing. Likewise, some of the upper portions of the 9,500-tonne structure had to be bolted together at a tolerance of less than one tenth of a millimetre, and this at an altitude that few outside of the mountaineering community had ever scaled.

I mention this because there is a common assumption that French cars are not as well put together as their German or Japanese counterparts. A preconception that they are thrown together on a Friday lunchtime by some surly, over-paid, over-unionised Jean-Luc with a Gauloise on the go and a grievance with the management. It’s a myth, in case you were wondering.

But a myth that the previous generation Laguna (from 2000 to 2006) almost single-handedly confirmed as reality. To call it badly built is an understatement. And I speak from experience. I own one. It is spacious, handsome, comfortable beyond all belief, and in terms of its engine and gearbox, surprisingly sturdy.

But just about everything else, from the exhaust to the suspension to the electric windows to the sun visors to even something as simple as the key has needed attention recently. Fair enough, it’s an aged car but I know I’m not alone in my Laguna frustrations. The warranty claims on this model were sufficient to put Renault on a serious financial back foot.

So when Renault launched the updated Laguna III in 2006, it knew that the quality had to be right. Very right. And so it proved. I defy you to find a car with better primary and secondary reliability than a current Renault Laguna. It is, to coin a phrase, solid.

Just not very stylish. The crisp lines of the old (my) Laguna were abandoned in favour of plainness and anonymity. A shame. French cars should always be stylish, in my view.

Belatedly, Renault has attempted to inject some style back into the Laguna, with new lights and grille and an all-over make-over. Sadly, it still looks plain and ordinary, and I still wonder why Renault simply doesn’t take the shape of the gorgeous Laguna Coupe and stretch it to accommodate four doors.

Still, it is a truism that it’s mostly other people who look at your car, so you ought to be more interested in its mechanical and interior appointments. Few are, but that’s human beings for you.

So, the Laguna now gets Renault’s latest generation 2.0 dCi diesel engine, with 150bhp and a fairly hefty 340Nm of torque. It’s this torque that gives the Laguna a new-found dose of sportiness, and in the handsome black metallic paintwork of our test car, you could easily imagine it speeding out of the gates of the Elysee Palace, minister in the back seat, racing to some appointment with France’s destiny. Well, I could but maybe I’ve just watched Day Of The Jackal too many times.

When an engine combines performance this fleet (9.5 0-100kmh dash) with economy and emissions this impressive (5.2-litres per 100km, a figure we matched, and 136g/km of Co2) you know you’re on to a winner.

The sad thing is that dynamically, the Laguna simply can’t bring a chassis to match the engine’s party. It’s OK, but nothing more. The steering is, in true DeGaulle fashion, aloof and resistant. The handling is actually fine; the Laguna is always sure-footed and grippy, but it’s never engaging. Even the six-speed gearshift can’t be bothered, moving floppily and langorously across its gate. What makes it all so annoying is that we know, for a fact, that Renault can do better. The Megane Coupe is a fine-handling car, and the various RenaultSport models are as deft and as brilliant as any sports car, so there’s no need for the Laguna to be this unwilling.

There are some side benefits though. The seats, specced up to Initiale level on our car, felt like plump, lovely sofas more than car seats. The equipment levels (including a bewildering joystick controller for the TomTom-derived satnav) give you plenty of buttons to play with win traffic, and if space in the back is surprisingly poor (certainly not up to the current class standard) then at least the rear seats are as squidgily comfortable as the fronts.

And the quality? Fine, but for one error. With the extra Initiale spec, you get lots of wood and polished piano black inserts, but all they really do is remind you that many of the Laguna’s cabin fittings are actually a bit rough and ready. A little less make-up, in this case, would actually have revealed fewer flaws.

So, as the owner of a former Laguna, would I seriously consider the new one? No, sadly, but that’s not down to any specific failing of the car itself. Considered alone, the updated Laguna is charmingly French, well-made, swift, frugal and exceptionally comfortable. But considered along the horde of rivals that ply this exceptionally talented class (Mondeo, 508, Passat, Insignia, C5, Avensis, i40 etc etc) and it starts to lose its lustre. Renault needs to rethink and dramatically update the Laguna, not merely facelift it, if it’s to be truly competitive. And remember what I said about making the Laguna Coupe body into a four-door?

In spite of its utilitarian nature (and its singular lack of purpose) the Eiffel Tower has gathered a character all of its own and become the iconic symbol of the great city of Paris. Perhaps there’s a lesson there for the Laguna. Making something with precision engineering doesn’t mean you cannot also produce it with character and beauty.


Facts & Figures

Renault Laguna 2.0 dCi Initiale
Price: €27,990
Price range: €24,490 to €27,990
Capacity: 1,995cc
Power: 150bhp
Torque: 340Nm
Top speed: 180kmh
0-100kmh: 9.5sec
Economy: 5.2l-100km (54.3mpg)
CO2 emissions: 136g/km
Road Tax Band: B €156
Euro NCAP rating: 5-star adult, 4-star child, 2-star pedestrian

Road Test: Mercedes-Benz C200 CDI Avantgarde Estate

Price as tested: €48,387.

In brief: All the usual Mercedes strengths and a beautifully balanced chassis, but lacks the space to be a proper family estate.


I have an instinctive, gut reaction to Mercedes estates. I want them. Any of them. I can’t explain it, it’s not based on anything rational, but I just love them. Ever since the quietly handsome W114 estates of the late seventies, I have just lusted after a big Merc hauler.

So, this updated C-Class estate should be pushing all my buttons, and statically at least, it does so. The restyled front end looks crisply handsome, especially in Avantgarde trim with the big, bold three-pointed star in the grille. Our test cars’ silver paint was entirely appropriate and, far from making it look boring or predictable, merely served to accentuate the clean lines.

Inside too, things a good. Very good. When it updated the C-Class this year, Mercedes did an excellent job of eradicating the slightly coarse, cheap-feeling plastics of the first-gen model and instead giving it much more a a mini-E-Class feel. As is usual with Mercedes, there are few (if any) gimmicks or geegaws beyond the the reasonably simple rotary controller for the Command system and you get the impression that it’s a cabin that will wear years with grace and resilience. Just as it should be.

Behind the three-pointed star lies the lowliest of Mercedes’ current diesel engine range, the 134bhp 200 CDI four cylinder. Don’t go feeling short changed by it though, for when it’s optionally bolted to the front of the excellent seven-speed automatic gearbox, this is a very satisfying engine to drive. Refinement is excellent, and despite having just that 134bhp (and 360Nm of torque) it really does pull with a pleasingly relentless feeling. It’s not blisteringly fast (0-100kmh in 9.6secs) but neither does it feel under-engined at any point.

It earns its BlueEfficiency badge as well, with Co2 emissions as low as 125g/km and claimed fuel consumption of 4.8-litres per 100km. Mind you, we only managed a relatively disappointing 6.2l/100km average, but you can in part at least blame a couple of long motorway runs for spoiling that.

The best part of the C-Class estate though has to be its chassis. Mercedes has, thankfully, ignored the received wisdom that a car with sporting pretension must ride like its suspension is constructed entirely from RSJs and concrete. The C glides along, always with an underlying firmness, but riding really quite beautifully.

And, as if to prove that the late, great LJK Setright (look him up) was right when he said that “whatever is done to improve ride is, when done properly, also good for handling” the C proves itself able to entertain too. The steering feels meaty and positive and, unlike most modern electrically assisted systems, feels like it’s telling you what’s actually happening at the contact patch, rather than relaying some kind of computer simulation. Front grip is excellent, and the C resists understeer very well for what is, let’s face it, a comfy family estate.

Ah, but is it. This is where the C’s case falls apart just a bit. You see, sporty, compact premium saloons, a class that the C falls firmly into, generally have one mission in life; to massage the ego of their drivers and owners. And that’s fine, but it usually means that space in the rear seats is compromised and that is the case here. It’s not actively cramped, but certainly big, bulky child seats really chew into the available room, often forcing the front seat occupants to sacrifice their comfort somewhat.

And the news in the boot is not much better. Yes, it’s square and flat back there, and yes, it passed my usual massive-three-wheeled-buggy test with ease but 485-litres of space, with the rear seats up, just doesn’t seem enough any more. Does it?

You see, I think that the C-Class estate’s problem is that it’s caught in an uncomfortable middle ground between the likes of the Mondeo, Passat, 508 and even Skoda Superb estates (bigger by far, better equipped as standard, barely any less well built or engineered and cheaper by up to €20k) and the E-Class estate, which regular readers will know I am madly in love with.

The E is everything a Mercedes estate should be. It’s massively spacious in every seat and in the boot, drives with the kind of calm sure-footedness that a big German car should and feels as if it’s built to withstand a concentrated napalm attack.

The C-Class manages to do many of those things well, and it has a really good bash at being the perfect Mercedes estate in miniature. But it’s that miniature bit that holds it back. At its cheapest, it starts to make a little more sense, but the price of our test car would have you into a decently specced E-Class, and that’s game over.

A shame. I loved the C estate when I saw it, but the simple fact is that you would be better off buying it as a saloon, or saving up for an E.

Facts & Figures

Mercedes-Benz C200 CDI estate Avantagarde A/T
Price as tested: €48,387
Range price: €38,750 to €98,455
Capacity: 2,143cc
Power: 134bhp
Torque: 360Nm
Top speed: 209kmh
0-100kmh: 9.6sec
Economy: 4.8l-100km (58.8mpg)
CO2 emissions: 125g/km
Road Tax Bad: B €156
Euro NCAP rating: 5-star; 82% adult, 70% child, 30% pedestrian, 86% safety assist.

Road Test: Peugeot 508 SW 2.0 HDI Active

Price as tested: €30,600

In brief: Need a family car but can’t bear the thought of an MPV? Here’s your answer. Slinky looks, high quality, good to drive and very economical.


51.3mpg. Or to put it in more up to date figures, 5.5-litres per 100km. Now, it's important to note that that's not a claimed manufacturer's figure, nor the result of some feather-footed economy run with the aircon off and the tyres pumped up to 50psi. That's the average fuel economy I got from a 2.0-litre Peugeot 508 SW, complete with a full load of family and associated bags, buggy and clutter. Now that is impressive.

Peugeot has been something of a diesel-meister ever since the original 205 XRAD and 405 HDI re-programmed our brains as to what a diesel car could be capable of. Since then, Peugeot has won the  Le Mans 24hrs with the awesome diesel-powered 908 race car and, better yet, has given us the most enjoyable-to-drive diesel car on the market in the shape of the gorgeous RCZ 2.0 HDI coupe.

But what Peugeot hasn't had for a while now is a proper rival to the likes of the Mondeo, Passat and Avensis. The 407, introduced in 2005, was decent enough but lacked rear seats space and its cabin was never quite up to the quality levels of the big Ford or VW. With the 508 though, Peugeot is right back in the game and this SW estate model is the best of the bunch.

€28k gets you an SW with the 1.6 HDI 112bhp engine but I'd seriously urge you to try and find the extra pennies to get yourself into this 2.0 HDI 140bhp, for €30,600. With that astonishing economy figure (close to bang on Peugeot's claimed figure of 5.0l/100km on the combined cycle) it'll cost you buttons to run, and with Co2 emissions of 130g/km, it's in the same Band B €156 road tax bracket as the 1.6.

And the SW is so much better looking than the saloon (which is hardly hideous itself). That long curving rear is very reminiscent of the Mercedes E-Class estate and the front looks so much neater and sharper than the tiresome gaping-grille Peugeots of recent years.

Inside, the news gets ever better. Yes, it's a touch plain compared to, say, the Opel Insignia, and the touchy-feely qualities lag just behind the Passat, but overall the quality of fit and finish is excellent, the seats are superbly comfy and little things like the main dials and the stitching on the leather steering wheel look and feel properly premium. There's lots of space in the back seat too, even when it's filled with hyperactive small people, and the boot is a gargantuan 660-litres.

And, and here is the best bit for the car-fancying family man, it's terrific to drive. Not quite as immersive as a Mondeo, perhaps, but beautifully balanced with especially sweet steering and bags of front end grip. Even with the kids and bags on board it swoops in perfect rhythm from corner to corner, and the ride quality feels a touch more supple in the SW than it does in the saloon.

And that economical diesel raises its game too, punching hard with 320Nm of torque and propelling the SW to a very respectable 0-100kmh time of 10.1secs.

Standard equipment on the Active model we drove includes Bluetooth phone, USB iPod connection, panoramic glass roof, 17” alloys, rear parking sensors, hill-holder clutch and split-zone climate control.

So if you've got kids to haul, and don't specifically need the seven seats of an MPV, then get yourself one of these. A proper, comfy, spacious family wagon that just happens to be handsome, fun to drive and exceptionally economical. Family life needn't be dull, after all.

Facts & Figures

Peugeot 508 SW 2.0 HDI Active
Price as tested: €30,600
Range price: €24,850 to €35,150
Capacity: 1,997cc
Power: 140bhp
Torque: 320Nm
Top speed: 210kmh
0-100kmh: 10.1sec
Economy: 5.0l-100km (56.4mpg)
CO2 emissions: 130g/km
VRT Band: B. €156 road tax
Euro NCAP rating: 5-star: 90% adult, 87% child, 41% pedestrian, 97% safety assist