The Irish Mail on Sunday

VIEW TO A THRILL

The visibility and fuel economy are amazing and that, says our man, makes this the perfect Renault for a secret agent...

- CHRIS EVANS Renault Scenic Dynamique S Nav

From young lives lost far too prematurel­y this week and in such tragic and horrendous circumstan­ces in Manchester, we then learned of the sad passing of one of Britain’s true acting greats, Roger Moore. The gentlemen’s gentleman, ‘Pops’ was always first to acknowledg­e how hugely lucky he’d been during his jam-packed 89 years on the planet. So many laughs, loves and opportunit­ies, largely because he could raise either of those famous rakish eyebrows of his dramatical­ly at will.

His exact words many times to interviewe­rs over the years, myself included: ‘My acting range? Left eyebrow raised. Right eyebrow raised, in whichever order the script requires.’ Always the first to laugh at himself – a lesson to us all.

Another of Roger’s great philosophi­es was: why live in a world of someone else’s making when you can live in your own? This was an outlook that caused many people to comment how not only was he the best Bond, but the most Bondlike in real life. Nothing wrong with a bit of healthy escapism in my book.

Last weekend, for example, Mrs Evans and I attended a wedding. Not ‘the’ wedding as far as most of the rest of the world was concerned (the Pippa & James glass marquee and Spitfire wedding), but ‘the’ wedding as far as we were concerned: Tash’s little sis’ Olivia, one of twins, the other twin Mands having already won the sibling race to the altar late last year.

Now, whereas I feel completely at ease telling you the name of Mands’ lovely spouse Glen, a photograph­er who works for McLaren F1, I am much less comfortabl­e revealing the name of Liv’s hubby. The reason for this primarily being that he is a spy. That’s right, an actual real-life internatio­nal man of mystery.

Not that he’s ever intimated as much to any of us, even to his new bride. It’s just that we know we know, she knows we know, we know she knows, he knows we all know and so we all sort of know to leave it at that! The thing about Tom (d’oh!) is that although he’s extremely quiet and reserved, he has that underlying alertness, stillness and inner confidence, an ever-readiness, like he’s on permanent standby. Unnaturall­y natural.

He also happens to be as fit as a fiddle, hard as nails and forever travelling the world for no apparent reason. And the clincher 007 trait for me? When he jokingly saluted on the steps of the registry office for a photo next to his dad – a jolly and generous soul but, more appositely, an ex-marine of some 40 years’ service – Tom’s salute was the crispest I’ve ever seen.

A thing of beauty, perfectly pivoted from the elbow up, with a dead flat outward-facing palm that mechanical­ly clicked into position after agitating gently to a halt at the behest of its own precisenes­s. An absolute giveaway and clearly the result of many hours of practice.

Yet here’s a guy who has supposedly never been part of any military organisati­on in his life. Well, excuse me, but I don’t think so.

The more apparently normal then, the more potentiall­y surprising. Let’s make that this week’s theme. Which brings us to this week’s car and a clarion call to all would-be secret agents: Renault may have come up with what could be the perfect undercover car for you, the latest version of its triedand-tested family favourite, the legendary Scenic. Now more scenic than ever, thanks to all that glass. Also appealing to the wouldbe spy is the rear door opening and closing mechanism, which could be employed to improve your Ninja reflex actions. When opening, just after halfway, 4ft-square of metal and glass suddenly triples in speed as the hydraulics kick in. Admittedly, not such a good selling point, but the threat of a swift uppercut certainly sharpens the senses. When closing, the reverse is also true, which means an extra muscle workout when shutting the confounded thing.

Other mild annoyances include the allegedly super-versatile console between the front seats that slides back ’n’ forth on runners. Grownups in the front: ‘Our cupholders have disappeare­d! Grrr.’ Kids in the back: ‘Our charge points and USB ports are more important! Grrr back.’

Then there’s the new bigger and much-improved infotainme­nt screen, which apart from looking like an upended skateboard deck from the Seventies appears to partially block the upper air vents. And while we’re on the subject of things getting in the way, the steering wheel is one of those that renders it almost impossible to see 90% of the column-stalk markings.

So it sounds like ultimately we might be onto a loser from what started as an attractive continenta­l mobile viewing platform. But the thing is, we’re not, even with a 1.5-litre diesel engine that starts

‘THIS IS A VERY COMFORTABL­E, SPACIOUS SHIP IN WHICH TO CRUISE AROUND’

smoothly but ends up sounding more like a clapped-out London taxi, only managing to muster max power of 110hp in the process. (A comparativ­ely measly figure bearing in mind the size of the vehicle and the potential payload of a family of five with all their stuff and nonsense squished into the back.)

In fact, the overwhelmi­ng sensation the Scenic leaves you with is one of a really pleasant car to drive, because everything is so effortless. There’s the featherlig­ht clutch pedal, the featherlig­ht power steering and brakes that require little more than a nod and a wink to take effect. But then there are also several optional driving modes available if you fancy a little play, including, bizarrely, Sport – which I presume must be a joke. The icing on the cake for many will be a fuel gauge that appears to be stuck on Full for the first three days after filling up.

This is a very wallet-friendly, very world-friendly, very stylish box-onwheels that may not be a spaceship, but is a very accommodat­ing, very comfortabl­e, spacious ship in which to cruise around. And, once again, how about 72mpg to put a smile on your face? That, plus an on-theroad price of €30,900, with a few options taking the one we tested up to €33,540.

That’s a lot of undercover car for any self-respecting spy family. And I must mention the Bose sound system which, albeit a £500 (€578) option, is ten times better than many we have tested that cost five times more. Right, that’s it. Lots of love to you and yours. Look after each other and good luck with your various missions. Over and out.

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