NEVER JUDGE A BOOK
Looks can be deceiving, Neil Lyndon discovers, as the Hyundai Santa Fe’s gizmos and gadgets shoot this SUV into a class of its own
The Hyundai Santa Fe is in a class of its own, thanks to its never-ending list of gizmos and gadgets
As I walked away from the Hyundai Santa Fe at the end of its week’s test loan, I turned to give it one last look. ‘You great lump,’ I found myself saying affectionately. ‘Who would guess to look at you how great you are?’
Standing as tall as an armoured car on vast Continental R19 235/55 tyres, this high-end SUV is as unprepossessing to look at as a Calor Gas cylinder. Hyundai have bedecked its body with chrome flashings and countrified its character with the usual plastic claddings around the wheel arches; but no cosmetics can disguise the fact that this is not a car that will ever be bought as a style statement.
The name Hyundai is itself sufficient to see off hordes of car poseurs and when you add an appearance that rivals a compost bin for glamour, you’ve got an automotive confection that is going to appeal to a decidedly limited market.
As it happens, I would enthusiastically number myself in that small group. Apart from VW’s latest Touareg, there hasn’t been a significant premium, seven-seat SUV in which I have felt so much at home for a very long time, if ever. If I were offered the choice of a Santa Fe or a Range Rover, for example, I’d take the Hyundai all day, any day for a whole bunch of reasons.
Firstly, the price: with prices starting at £33,450, it’s effectively impossible to spend more than £45,000 on a Santa Fe unless you wallpaper its body with £20 notes. For that money it’s nearly impossible to buy a Range Rover – so the Hyundai represents a saving of tens of thousands. Second-hand this car is a steal.
Secondly, build quality and reliability: I would confidently back the Santa Fe to see out the full term of its five-year warranty with no major failings. Try getting a five-year warranty on a Range Rover.
Thirdly, inverted snob value: the Santa Fe sticks up two fingers at badge snobs and brand name-droppers. That’s a sound reason to love it.
Beyond those considerations, the Santa Fe is enormously endearing once you are inside and no longer have to give any thought to its appearance. With heating and ventilating options, the deeply cushioned, leather upholstered seats are the last word in comfort. They can be adjusted vertebra by vertebra to ease away any spinal aches and graunches.
The instrument panel and information display are on Lexus levels of use-ability and clarity. I loved the way the background colour changes to match the driving mode you have chosen – blue for comfort, green for eco (natch) and a fiery, peppery orange for sport (though, obviously, that word has to be stretched beyond its credible limits to apply to a vehicle which is closer in its dynamics to a removal van than to a Ferrari). A smart setting is available which takes away the chore of making these decisions for yourself and chooses whichever driving mode is most suitable to the prevailing conditions.
The Santa Fe’s Krell audio system with 10 speakers and external woofer is an absolute blast and, again, its concert-hall quality makes a mockery of any supposed distinctions between European and Asian premium SUVs.
The 2.2-litre diesel engine with 200 PS running through an eight-speed automatic gearbox delivers acceleration from 0-60mph in around nine seconds which is fast enough for all sane purposes; and the permanent all-wheel drive system comes with all the options such as hill descent control and axle lock which anybody who isn’t a hill farmer could need to cope with a Scottish winter.
The manufacturer’s figure for overall fuel consumption is 38.7mpg. My own average over the week of the test was a 32.4mpg.
That shameful figure shows how much I was enjoying the car. Come back any time, you big old lump: you’re more than welcome here.
“There hasn’t been a premium, seven-seat SUV in which I felt so much at home