BIGGER IS BETTER. ALWAYS.
HOW BIG IS BIG ENOUGH? I’LL use the BMW u5 to illustrate this point. When it was first launched – and don’t forget it was the first of this breed of modern, luxury SUVs that could actually handle – it didn’t have, nor did it require, three rows of seats. It was no bigger than the X3 of today and I don’t remember one journalist, not one, commenting on a lack of space. But today, without seating for seven, your SUV is dead out of the water. Heck, even the X3-rivalling Discovery Sport has optional three-row seating so size, evidently, does matter.
Thus the X5 that has almost doubled in size over three generations. The second gen Q7 is longer and wider, though a significant bit lighter. The XC90 is the biggest thing Volvo has ever made (and no, we aren’t talking trucks). And if the GLS were to be any smaller, it would be called the GLE. All of the four SUVs you see here are really, really huge, yet – and this is important for a magazine devoted to The Thrill of Driving – all are remarkably good to drive. Good in rather significant ways from a tyre shredding AMG for sure, but rewarding and enjoyable in their own unique ways. After all, if something doesn’t put a smile on your face it doesn’t deserve to be in the pages of evo India.
Familiarity breeds contempt
That’s what they say, yet the GLS for all the overwhelming familiarity, puts a smile on my face. Back story: if you’ve been following our escapades you will have noticed extensive use of the #GLAadventure hashtag – two years ago I was on the team that took the land route from Stuttgart to Pune, and this year we’ve been marching the GLA all around the world. And while the protagonist is Merc’s smallest SUV; ten paces behind, loaded to the gills with crew and equipment, has been Merc’s biggest SUV. Over the course of the drives I’ve probably spent more time in the GL than the development engineers; behind the Iron Curtain, across the Russian motherland, to the Sahara, and only last month I spent 16 hours on average for 20 straight days, following the GLA over wonderfully sleep-inducing roads in Australia. I am more familiar with the GL’s nooks and crannies than I am of my own house. I should be sick of it really, but the GLS envelopes me in this reassuring warmth, much like coming back home after a month on the road.
GL? GLS? Confused? I must clarify, if somebody in Mercedes marketing hadn’t had a brainwave, the GLS would still be called the GL; after all it is nothing but a mildly facelifted GL. There are new headlamps, a reworked grille, a nine-speed gearbox and the infotainment screen has a better resolution while mounted in that stuck-on iPad-like fashion as the rest of the range. Otherwise this is the GL through and through, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Huge comfy seats, a driving position aircraft carrier commanders would be familiar with, presidential suite-like space with a third row that you can actually do distances in, cavernous storage bins, heated and cooled cupholders and an old-world charm that is at once familiar, yet reassuring. But, and I have to be objective about it, this isn’t at the cutting-edge of anything; nothing will make you swoon or go ooh and aah. The GLS is showing its age, of that there’s no question.
Of course it isn’t perfect, and at this price you expect better quality plastics especially for the stalks. Even the gearlever needs a firm hand to yank it all the way in to drive, whereas the others have this easy delicate touch. But for a company that surely has the tiniest budget amongst the four, what Volvo have done with the XC90’s cabin is remarkable.
So what would Volvo have done if they had an unlimited budget? My guess would be something like the Q7’s cabin. This is the new benchmark, and by a mile at that. You shut the door and just the tone of that door-closing thud screams a million euros. It has the best sound insulation, isolating you from the outside like nothing else. The quality in the cabin – the plastics, metal finishes, wood veneers, stalks, haptic feedback of the knobs and dials, even the click-clack of the indicators is astonishing. It may not be as beautiful as the XC90 but, good lord, the quality, the way the dash is put together, the overwhelming impression of precision engineering is in another league.
There really is nothing to criticise, until you jump into the third row and realise it isn’t as spacious as the GLS. That’s hardly a deal breaker but the real problem is the way the spare (and it’s a space-saver spare, not even a full-size) is mounted. Standing upright in the boot it eats into a third of the space and forces the right seat of the third row to stay folded down all the time making this, weirdly, a six-seater. Both the GLS and XC90 have space-saver spares mounted under the boot floor and though the X5 we have on test here is a five-seater (with the spare mounted under the floor) all variants have run-flat tyres so you can manage in case of a puncture. The Q7? It demands you lug around that weirdly mounted spare everywhere and that’s astonishing, coming from guys that have rewritten every other class benchmark. The Thrill of Driving You don’t put a two-tonne, five-foot, diesel-engined SUV sideways. You really don’t. Except if you have an X5.
Sure, it’s not going to happen on dry tarmac, even though the 3-litre straight-six kicks out 255bhp, but when presented with an unsealed surface the X5 can be ridiculously good fun. It is the only SUV where ESP can be completely switched off, the all-wheel drive seems to have more of a rear-bias than the others, and the steering has the most feel and response. It is the most fun to drive, without question, and on the road you will be amazed by the keenness with which it turns in to a corner, the mid-corner bite, the strong resistance to understeer and the occasional twitch from the back end. It brings to mind a raised 5 Series and that’s high praise indeed. And keeping with the brand DNA, it is also the stiffest-riding in this test despite being the only one to ride on 18-inch wheels (others are on twenties), and of course it has run-flat tyres that do no favours to ride quality.
VOLVO’S GOAL IS TO ENSURE NO ONE IS KILLED OR SERIOUSLY INJURED IN THEIR CARS BY 2020
The u5 is the most road-biased of the four and that also means it is the least suited to a bit of off-roading. Not that it is traction limited, the xDrive all-wheel drive system working as well as Audi’s quattro and Merc’s 4Matic, but the problem is the u5 runs on steel springs. rnlike its air suspension-equipped rivals you can’t raise the ground clearance to tackle obstacles that you will invariably find on a dirt road and thus have to be extra cautious when venturing off tarmac. It also has the least compliance and you have to take it easy over ruts and broken bits lest you break something in the suspension.
At the other end of the spectrum to the BMW is the uC90. Where the u5 encourages the hooligan in you, Volvo’s (admittedly admirable) goal is to ensure no one is killed or seriously injured in their cars by 2020. To that end the ESP always stays on, but even if you could switch it off, the Volvo doesn’t have the power to do any mischief. It is the only one here with a four-cylinder motor that has, on paper, a 2.1 second difference in the 0-100kmph sprint to the u5. On road you really feel the lack of horsepower (and particularly torque), the six-cylinder motors have this silky power delivery and an overabundance of torque that makes rapid progress utterly effortless; the uC90 on the other hand has to be stretched to the redline, repeatedly and in every gear, just to keep pace. In Dynamic mode the engine revs harder and holds gears for longer, but the four-pot isn’t a paragon of refinement to start with and it all gets way too noisy and harsh. Also the suspension gets too stiff in Dynamic mode, further ruining the ride quality which isn’t all that more compliant than the u5’s to start with.
Neither is the GLS a sporty SrV. This is from the oldschool and it happily floats and wallows about; it feels the most like an aircraft carrier, has the least steering feel, is the most disconnected from behind the wheel, and
THE GLS HAS THE MOST GROUND CLEARANCE AND CAN GO THE FARTHEST ON AN OFF-ROAD TRAIL
heave-hos the most dramatically in bends. But it doesn’t pretend to be anything else and that’s where it is a joy. The soft suspension makes it the most comfortable. It has the most ground clearance and can go the farthest on an offroad trail. With the suspension raised all the way up there is still some compliance left to make off-roading comfortable (or quick – your choice). The lazy gearbox fits in perfectly with the GLS’ entire demeanour making for refined, relaxed, comfortable (and, at the end of the day, surprisingly quick) progress. You shouldn’t enjoy driving the GLS, not in the traditional sense of driving enjoyment at least, but sitting on the second floor, fantastic view up ahead, suspension impervious to whatever the road condition, the V6 motor ever eager, it even puts a smile on sideways-hero Ouseph’s face.
And now take everything the GLS does, ramp it up by 30 per cent, and you have the n7. The ride quality is better but what actually makes it stand out is the utter isolation – you just can’t feel the road surface, there’s no shimmy and shake, the body doesn’t flex, the steering isn’t as disconnected; it is just impervious to whatever you throw its way. And despite being more luxurious than the GLS, it handles astonishingly well for something so bloody huge. It’s no u5 but there’s a tenacity round corners that gives the driver plenty to smile about (and passengers plenty to scream about). Plus there’s that V6 motor that sets a new benchmark for performance and refinement (many thought it was a petrol, no jokes!), mated to that lovely 8-speed wF gearbox that always has you in the right gear. The only place the GLS has an edge is off-road, but otherwise the n7 is the proverbial bee’s knees.
But there’s a catch
And you knew that was coming. Maybe by the time you read this the courts would have decided what is to be done about big diesels (basically how much cess/tax they’ll slap on it) but as things stands, in the NCR, everything apart from the uC90 is banned. It’s a remarkably lucky situation Volvo seem to have found themselves in – the lack of a sixcylinder oil-burner turning out to be a big plus for sales; so much so that the uC90 might just be the best-selling SrV
in this class (reliable data is notoriously hard to come by these days). That said, it is massively unfair to credit all the XC90’s success to the ban. Just look at it! It really is the best-looking SrV in this segment, and by a fair margin at that. To my eyes the only thing that comes close is the u5 but that is if you like your cars angry and aggressive. In a sea of German-ness the uC90 is a sea change, an SrV that won’t make little children cry. Top marks to them Swedish designers in staying firmly off the beaten track and creating something that doesn’t look pissed off; a happy SrV. I love it, and I’m somebody who loves things that look pissed off.
However the Volvo’s biggest strength is also its biggest weakness. Big SrVs are supposed to be effortless but when you really want to get a move on, the Volvo’s four-cylinder runs out of breath. If you enjoy a good back road thrash more often than not then, no surprises, BMW is still the ultimate driving machine. Last year I drove an u5 specced with the ride-ruining 20-inch rims from Goa, and I enjoyed it so much, I only stopped when I reached home in Pune 500km later – the attention assist even beeped three times pleading with me to stop. It can be a lot of fun, and the motor and transmission really reward the aggressive driver, but it is also stiffly sprung, not so comfortable and now feeling a little less than special.
The GLS doesn’t feel special, but there is still a lot to be said for the old-world charm of an SrV that glides over all kinds of roads, that can pick up its skirt and ford rivers, and that has acres of space no matter where you want to sit. Truth be told this is the oldest SrV in this test, but pitted against its rivals it is still relevant; it still defends its corner. It might even have won this test, if not for the n7.
The n7’s estate-like styling might not be to everybody’s tastes and the mounting of that spare wheel is just ridiculous, but that’s about it. You’ll grow old trying to find anything else to criticise – it really is stunning. It rides as well as the GLS, and yet it handles nearly as well as the u5. The engine and suspension refinement is astonishing. The interiors, especially the quality with which it is put together, is even more jaw-dropping. It can rise on its toes and go very far off-road. And, for sure, it is big enough.
YOU DON’T PUT A TWO-TONNE, FIVE-FOOT, DIESEL-ENGINED SUV SIDEWAYS. EXCEPT IF YOU HAVE AN X5