An XC. But not the XC
An SUV that drives like a car but SUVs like an SUV? Too good to be true, surely? Well yeah, kinda. By Chris Chilton
How much do you not want an SUV? Despite the proliferation of the things, there are still people out there who want their cars to look like cars, even when they want their cars to perform like an SUV. But after seven months with the V60 XC, which camp was I in?
The XC’s fixed-height, non-air suspension naturally limits its off-road ability, but in practice its 60mm lift and standard four-wheel-drive hardware were more than capable enough for the in-laws’ rutted farm track, minor local flooding and the other obstacles we encountered. And the theory with these cars is that because they’re lower than an SUV, you still get all the handling of a normal car.
Er, about that bit. If you like driving remotely quickly, this isn’t the car for you. There are no gearshift paddles, the seat bolsters are too far apart to provide decent lateral support for anyone weighing less than 17 stone, and the body control is softer than an NSPCC-approved cricket ball. I’ve driven plenty of SUVs that are more fun to punt around.
Where the XC excels is in the other situations, the other miles that made up the bulk of our 7900. I didn’t bond with the fiddly touchscreen and its clunky map, the strangely noisy wipers or the 34mpg average consumption.
But I did love the long-distance comfort and the big boot. The surround-view camera system and panoramic sunroof, part of the £1800 Xenium Pack, were also appreciated, and since we finished the loan without a smash, I should give thanks for the £1625 Intellisafe Pro system, though I found the rear cross-trac alert over-zealous and the adaptive cruise too easily confused by cars in the next lane.
In fact my two favourite features weren’t techy at all: a three-pin socket inside the car that made using my laptop on the go a breeze, and the old-fashioned mechanical shifter for the auto transmission that always selected reverse when I wanted, and not after four tries like on so many other cars.
Having previously run two Audi Allroads, a decade ago I’d definitely have counted myself as someone who appreciated the car-ness of something like the V60 XC and droned on about how the lower centre of gravity blah blah blah. Now I’m not so sure. SUVs have come a long way, and so has my fondness for them. I know not all of you are so keen, but these days you can buy SUVs that are more capable than this XC off-road and much more fun on it.
A lightly used Porsche Macan sounds tempting for the same money as our new Volvo, but the XC’s bigger problem is another XC; a much better car that only costs a little more. The V60 XC is merely good, but the XC60 is great.
Count the cost
Cost new £48,290 Part exchange
£26,735 Cost per mile 17.6p
Cost per mile including depreciation £2.90
The story so far
Error message interrupts 3’s gentle integration into my life, but it’s easily fixed
A stunner to look at and to be in; sweet handling Engine sounds weird
Logbook
Price £26,675 (£27,465 as tested) Performance 1998cc four-cylinder, 178bhp, 8.2sec 0-62mph, 134mph E ciency 48.7mpg (o cial), 42.1mpg (tested), 131g/km CO2 Energy cost 14.6p per mile Miles this
month 506 Total miles 3511
Many years ago, a Ford PR man told me – approvingly – that I didn’t have any small talk. But ever since I joined the one per cent, I can fill all kinds of conversational vacuums. Not that one per cent, the single-digit (but rapidly growing) club of UK motorists who buy a new electric car. Getting the i-Pace was not just a test of a new car, but of a new lifestyle. And discourse.
Conversation topic #1 is ‘How far does it go?’ – range and charging anxiety are uppermost in the human psyche. The i-Pace is ocially rated at between 258 and 292 miles, depending on spec. But fully charged, our luxuriously equipped car didn’t display a range north of 225 miles under my keeping.
Its longest stint was 191 miles to deepest Cornwall using Eco mode: I never pushed my luck further.
Then you get ‘How hard is it to charge?’ and detailing the merits of 7kW chargers vs 50kW chargers vs 100kW+ ultrarapid chargers may not make for chat nirvana. The unvarnished truth is that too many chargers are inoperable for various reasons, so your well-laid plan needs a fallback position, and quang 50kW for an hour-plus only gives about 100 i-Pace miles. The UK needs more – and far faster – chargers. To support a 100 per cent electric new-car market, car industry body the SMMT calculates we’ll need to go from 19,000 to 2.8 million chargers by 2035. At a cost of £16.7 billion. Gulp.
But most EV early adopters will only need to juice up on that occasional long journey or staycation, and the odd hour or two of stopovers is tolerable. If you have off-road parking at home or chargers at work, running an EV should slip neatly into your life. My middle-class circle nods agreeably when I hector that every household’s second car should be electric. But they’ll need a wallbox: my 7kW BP Chargemaster unit install cost £449, thanks to a £500 government subsidy that’s now been reduced to £350.
The related question is typically ‘How much does it cost to run?’ On a cheap overnight tariff, an i-Pace charge totalled £8, so about £20 for 500 miles. A punchy twin-turbodiesel F-Pace, though still down 100bhp and a couple of seconds to 62mph on the electric Jag, would need around £78 to
Detailing the merits of 7kW chargers vs 50kW chargers may not make for chat nirvana
gas for 500 miles. And there is an undoubted feelgood factor from emitting zero pollutants on the go.
Of course you need to factor in EVs’ higher acquisition prices, especially when £17k of options makes for an £80,000 i-Pace. Although memory seats were handy because my wife is half my size, I never used the front-seat cooling and the rear heaters were buried under child seats – bank that £4k. I’d also forego the £900 head-up display, £400 autodimming door mirrors (really?) and the £1650 adaptive headlamps.
But I’m a sucker for a glass roof (£960), and this i-Pace looks sensational (even when dirty) in £700 Caesium Blue paint, with £260 black trim flourishes and pricey 22-inch alloys (£2900). The low-profile rubber doesn’t compromise the air of civility or composed ride on £1100 air springs.
I used the £500 camera pack to monitor my parking position, and utilised the stop and go cruise control, part of a £1350 pack with blind-spot monitoring and high-speed emergency braking.
In hindsight, nine grand of these options were superfluous; better to just buy an S model and spec decent wheels, because the standard i-Pace is a tremendous and suitably equipped car.
Not once did the banter turn to ‘How does it feel pushing on down the B660?’ but I’d rhapsodise nonetheless. The dual-motor i-Pace launches like a cannonball, steers with a ballerina’s deftness, and grips like Loctite – thank those low-set battery cells between the wheels. Everyone who took a turn – from EV sceptic Ben Miller to my wife – was smitten by the way it drives. Personally I’d like more aggressive regenerative deceleration to dovetail with my late-braking style, but the way the nose turns in once you lift is the gift that keeps on giving.
And the i-Pace does all it’s asked: a deep boot stows pram, scooters or luggage, the rear seats fold not-quite-flat but still handle recycling runs. With its instant performance, air of calm, vast cabin space and low running costs, it’s a great electric car. Actually, it’s just a brilliant car full stop.
So that leads to question #5: ‘Would you have another electric car?’ This lifestyle is not for the inflexible, disorganised or shy. But I’d definitely have another EV. Whether it’ll be as great as the Jag is another conversation entirely.
Count the cost
Cost new £80,980 Part exchange
£51,660 Cost per mile 4.6p Cost per mile including depreciation £2.69