The V-Class is what happens when Merc turns S-Class into a van
But calling it a box van is doing this luxuury vehicle a gross injustice
CALL IT a bout of bad timing, but when we first road tested Merc’s new V-Class last October we weren’t able to use it to its full potential. Instead of hauling full loads of seven people in lavish luxury to and from various locations, we used it as a one-up work commuter on the daily nine-to-five.
Thankfully Mercedes returned the big bus for use over the holiday season, when yours truly assumed the role of airport chauffeur, furniture delivery man, and Cradle of Humankind tour operator during the three-week period.
Not that the V-Class doesn’t also work just fine as transport for a singular occupant (I did my fair share of solo errand-running in it too), but it’s utter overkill to tootle down to the shops for charcoal and ice in such a colossal box van.
The term box van doesn’t quite do the thing justice though, because with the V-Class Merc’s set out to combine space with opulence in one giant package resembling the brand’s flagship S-Class sedan but in cubic form. Front-row passengers are greeted with a sumptuously sculpted dashboard, a tablet-like 8” display screen, and the same curved touchpad control system which features in other current Benz models.
Leather upholstery, heaps of it, comes standard in all seven V-Class variants (in two types depending on trim grading), and one mate who sat at the back said he felt like a rock star riding in a limo to a show. And, that was before I showed him the fold-out table and colour changing mood lights that run in strips beneath the glossy wood veneer panelling throughout the cabin. It’s all very fancy indeed, and nearly every passenger I took on board asked how much it costs within seconds of inspecting their surroundings and pressing a few of the many buttons.
V-Class pricing starts at a relatively reasonable R695 981 for the base V200 diesel with a manual gearbox, but for full ‘rock star’ spec as in our V250 BlueTec Avantgarde test unit, you’ll need to shell out R984 196. This number will easily creep over a million bucks with optional features such as 360-degree parking cameras (R14 500), radar cruise control (R11 000), rear iPad docking stations ( R3 323) and rear-window airbags (R6 530) thrown into the mix.
Though the middle row can be turned around to face forward (it’s not an easy task) the seats in our test unit faced rearward in a sort of mobile conference room layout. Perfect for five suited folk to conduct business on the fly, or, in my case, two friends to sprawl out with feet up in full La-Z-Boy positions.
My father, who rode alone in the back en route to OR Tambo, shouted demands of single malt and cigars before crossing his legs and dozing off in true Don Corleone style.
It’s also possible to remove the second and third rows altogether (again, not an easy task) to create a gaping cargo hold, but I was still able to transport a rather large bookshelf by simply folding the five seatbacks down flat and sliding it in over the top. Finding space for big and bulky items is little problem with such a versatile seating setup, but I did notice a lack of storage space for small things up front.
The centre console can hold two normal size water bottles, but then there’s hardly space for two cellphones especially if plugged into the USB and 12-volt sockets. The front door pockets are deep enough to swallow an iPad, though.
It’s a big enough vehicle to require parking at the far end of shopping centre lots where there’s space for its 5.1 metre length and 2.25m width, but its sliding side doors and clever split tailgate (the back glass opens separately) make loading and unloading people and goods fairly easy. It’s also easy to drive, and once you hoik yourself into the captain’s chair and engage the auto gearbox (via stalk on the steering column), it’s plain sailing with a high-up seat position and view of the road.
The V-Class has a remarkably tight turning circle, so manoeuvring the ship in confined spaces isn’t as difficult as it might seem. The 2.1litre turbodiesel engine also gels nicely with its seven-speed autobox, and there’s plenty of urge even with a full load on board. Perhaps a bit of turbolag on pulloffs, but hardly worth mentioning. I cruised mostly with the transmission and suspension set in Comfort mode (is Sport mode really necessary in a van?), and over the three-week test period the trip computer showed an average of 9.7 litres per 100km. Fair for such a hulking people mover. VERDICT This top-of-the-line V 250 Avantgarde comes standard with business class all-sorts-like navigation with real time traffic updates, motorised doors at the back and both sides, adjustable suspension, heated and cooled front seats, and a nifty double-decker boot with handy built in stowage nooks.
There’s a lot of car here for the money, and the cabin’s build quality is leagues better than anything else in its class, but it’s a very unique buyer who’s willing to pay extra for such an extravagant bus.
Consider Merc’s own Vito Tourer, priced between R516 272 and R744 386, but with a less elegant black plastic slab dashboard and fewer luxo-features, and the V-Class is hard to justify.
The Vito gets the same job done for less money. So does VW’s Caravelle, Kia’s Grand Sedona and Chrysler’s Grand Voyager. I see the V-Class, especially in its upper trim guises, targeted at five-star hotels for use as shuttles, but, for wealthy families who want to transport loads of young‘uns to soccer in supreme comfort... it doesn’t get much better than this.
V-CLASS VS ITS RIVALS:
V250 BlueTec Avantgarde 2.1 turbodiesel, 140kW/440Nm 7-speed auto 7 seats (opt 8), R984 196 Chrysler Grand Voyager Limited 2.8 turbodiesel, 120kW/360Nm 6-speed auto 7 seats, R702 990 Kia Grand Sedona SXL 2.2 turbodiesel, 147kW/440Nm 6-speed auto 7 seats (11 opt), R705 995 Mercedes Vito 119 CDI Tourer Select 2.1 turbodiesel, 140kW/440Nm 7-speed auto 8 seats, R744 386 VW Caravelle Highline 2.0 turbodiesel, 132kW/400Nm 7-speed auto 7 seats, R824 500