Familiar quirks
Applying an Aussie mindset to the French way of thinking
SITREP from inside the Lewis household: life is good. French-australian relations are in rude health with our Magnetic Blue companion slipping effortlessly into the daily routine.
After a month and a bit together the 3008 and I are at a comfortable spot. We understand each other. I’ve now sampled the function of every button, cycled through all available menu options – of which there are many millions – and found a Goldilocks set-up that fits me just right.
My favourite configuration keeps the customisable digital dashboard showing speed and trip data, and a neatly stylised road map in the centre to make finding side streets a cinch. That leaves the central screen free to display radio station and track name data most of the time, with climate control settings and connectivity options at the ready if need be.
Switching between pages on the centre display is done using seven ‘finger’ buttons mounted across the dash below. They’re one of my favourite design features inside the 3008, but it can be hard to quickly locate the one you need when on the move as they’re all the same shape and size and have only a small icon with no text to identify them. I’ve learned that a threefinger prod of the touchscreen brings up the same options as selectable soft buttons, which is a handy trick to know.
You might assume I stumbled upon this nifty shortcut while curiously flipping through the user handbook, but that would be far too obvious. In fact, the hard-copy manual delivered in my 3008’s glovebox is entirely and inexplicably printed in Arabic…
I had to laugh. My contact at Peugeot saw the amusing side too, then set about sourcing a local version for me. I’ll be sure to share any other pro-tips once it arrives.
I’ve also come around to the Pug’s relatively modest level of performance. I’ll admit to feeling a little underwhelmed by its 240Nm of twist the first time I put my foot down, but I’ve since changed my mind. It’s perfectly adequate for the job this car sets out to do. What has been a little disappointing up until now is its fuel economy. The last tank of PULP (it won’t accept less than 95RON) disappeared at a rate of 11.0L/100km, which is higher than hoped even if it was achieved in mostly peak-hour commuting.
But the outlook is still rosy. I don’t mind its slightly busy ride or the somewhat noisy mud and snow tyres, about which I’ll go into more detail later. We’ve moved past the early awkwardness and hit our stride. There’s a satisfying user friendliness about this car once its quirks have been discovered and adapted to, and there’s something loveably human about that.