Ford Tourneo Custom vs Mercedes-Benz V-Class

What's the difference?

There’s absolutely no doubt that the van-based people-mover has some distinct advantages over a three-row SUV. The rear seat is bigger, access to it is far better and there’s more luggage space even when all eight seats are occupied. But the Tourneo goes a step or two further with the sliding, swivelling seats that make it one of the most practical and flexible interiors on the market.

True, the driving experience is a bit alien at first, but it’s a case of different, rather than worse. Meantime, the ride is excellent and the performance and economy from the turbo-diesel driveline are both absolutely spot on for this vehicle’s intended purpose.

And perhaps that’s the metaphor for the whole thing: By not trying to be something it’s not, and concentrating on what it needs to do, the Tourneo emerges as a bit of a quiet achiever.

As we said earlier, this type of vehicle concept is never a sure-fire proposition. Parcel vans converted to passenger duties haven’t always worked out. This time, though, it’s different.

The Mercedes-Benz V-Class, and in particular the Mercedes-Benz V220d, lives up to the notion of a luxury people-mover – for the most part. The leaking door is a concern, but may be confined to this vehicle only.

But in most every other way it has the whole prestige bus thing sorted. There is no denying that a more affordable van from a less, shall we say, desirable brand would do just as good a job.

But if you need to be seen to be offering the most luxurious people-mover you can buy in Australia, then you really ought to be looking at the V-Class…. just maybe go for the V250d, if the budget can stretch that far.

Perhaps the biggest revision of the successful Transit Custom formula needed to make the leap from FedEx to Brady Bunch has been to the rear suspension. Where the Transit uses a leaf-sprung arrangement, the Tourneo has switched to coil rear springs. These technically offer much greater ride comfort at the expense of some load-carrying ability. Which is fine, even if your kids are the bigger variety.

The move to powered sliding side doors is a welcome one, but I found out the hard way that the doors will still open a fraction if you push the button while still travelling at low speed. Not sure why that would be, but at least the buttons in question are up front in Adult-Land, not within reach of you-know-who.

The reality is, too, that the Tourneo is destined to run with the air-con on any time you have bodes in the back. That’s because – like a lot of van conversions – there’s no opening side windows beyond the tiny, hinged windows that open an equally tiny amount. This has more to do with the Transit’s basic structure than any desire to oxygen-deprive the young `uns, but as any parent knows, a supply of fresh air on the move is sometimes the only thing between a happy day out and a clean up in Aisle five.

This doesn’t look like your everyday Mercedes-Benz commercial van – the V-Class is certainly more at home parked in the driveway of a luxury hotel than alongside the back door in the alley behind it. 

Admittedly it isn’t as attractive as the Avantgarde flagship, but it has the whole Benz ‘family look’ thing going on, with a stylish grille, swept headlights and a streamlined body. A box on wheels it may be, but it’s a box with nicely rounded edges.

The 17-inch, five-spoke alloy wheels are plain, and the halogen headlights and daytime running lights don’t have quite the same wow factor as the LED units in the high-end model, but it wears that Benz badge loud and proud. And the extremely dark tinted rear windows ensure the privacy of your occupants, as well as giving off the vibe of high-end plush.

I know it’s hard to stray from the formula for a van, but I particularly like the back end of the V-Class – it is reminiscent of the original Vito, with low, broad-set tail-lights and a near-flat backside with a huge tailgate, which doubles as an awning to stand under if the weather is a bit Melbourne. 

The interior is typical Benz, or, in the case of the V220d, Benz on a slight budget.

Here’s where a vehicle like this stands or falls. Because if something like a Tourneo can’t cope with lots of people and their luggage in a single bound, then there’s really not much point to it, is there? I mean you’re not going to buy it for its sporty looks or supercar dynamics, so unless it works brilliantly as family transport, it’s kind of dead in the water. Fortunately Ford seems to have got it right. Mostly, anyway.

That starts up front where the two front seats feel like they’re metres apart. In reality, this huge gap forms a walk-through function for getting access to anything or anyone misbehaving in the second or third row of chairs. But you can’t help wondering what if… What if Ford had ditched the stubby centre console and added a third front-row seat? Wouldn’t a nine-seater be better than eight?

But the seats themselves are comfy and the high-and-mighty driving position gives plenty of vision in every direction. With one exception. And that is when you’re pulling out of a side street on to a main road and need to see what’s coming from the left. Depending on the angle you’re on, the fat frame of the pop-out side window (in the sliding door) becomes a blind spot, especially for taller drivers.

There’s nothing irretrievably wrong with the way the controls are laid out, but they will take some acclimatisation. That goes for the menu system on the touchscreen as well as the column-mounted shifter wand which is about the same size and shape (and in the same place) as a conventional indicator stalk. Tip the lever accidentally and you’ll wind up in neutral, wondering what just happened. The manual-shift mode is also fiddly to use and paddle sifters would be vastly better. Most won’t bother anyway.

The front cabin is home to a shallow lidded bin in the centre console, a deeper bin below that and a couple of charge points. There are also cup-holders in great spots up high in the corner of the dashboard, a shelf across the top of the dashboard and no less than two gloveboxes (the top one is pretty shallow) thanks to moving the passenger’s airbag into the roof lining. Both front doors also feature bins and storage nooks but there’s a fair bit of hard plastic on show, surely a legacy of the Tourneo’s parcel-van DNA.

The Tourneo’s party trick is the way both the second and third rows of seats can be slid to almost any point on a pair of tracks in the floor. The move is simply accomplished via a lever at the front or a rip-cord in the back of the seats, and all three centre-row seats can be moved individually (the third row is split 60:40). The upshot is that you can have all three rows bunched together for a large luggage space, or the rear row pushed right back to form a rear row with huge legroom. Don’t need all eight seats? How about a second row with the two outside chairs in place and the centre one folded forward to expose a work-surface with built-in cupholders.

But it gets even better, because individual seats can be removed to suit the weirdest of loads and the second-row seats even swivel 180-degrees to form a loungeroom on wheels. The kids will be begging you to take them for a drive in this thing.

The seats fold forward, but they don’t tumble. They don’t need to really, and they don’t fold into a bed either. But if you fancy camping in the Tourneo, you can remove both rows of rear seats for a huge flat floor.

The second row is home to storage bins in each sliding door (yes, a door on each side) a pop-put window that opens only about 40mm, temperature controls, air vents and reading lights. The third row, meantime, is not only easily accessed provided the second row isn’t slid all the way back (at which point you wouldn’t be using the third row anyway) but the good news is that the rearmost seat itself is basically three bucket seats with the same comfort levels (high) as the second row. There are also reading lights and a pair of phone pockets and cup-holders in the last row, too. Only the way the track system works and the shape of the seat base means that foot-room is limited to an extent.

With all three rows in place, but pushed as far forward as they can go, there’s a long load area of up to 725mm. But you can also push the second and third rows all the way back and have a cargo area 2622mm long behind the front seats. Maybe the van DNA is a good thing after all.

With all eight seats in place, there’s a minimum of 673 litres of luggage space which can be expanded all the way to a monster 4683 litres with the second and third rows removed.

There’s also a 12-volt power socket and a lighting system in the back, too, although while the side doors are automatic, the tailgate is manual. And you’ll need plenty of real estate to open it, too. Even tall folk will hit the button to open the tailgate, start the strut-assisted opening and then take a step or two back to allow the huge tailgate to rise without clobbering them. An automatic tailgate where you hit the button and run away to a safe distance would be much nicer.

With the optional eight-seat setup, it’d be hard to think of this van as impractical. And if you consider that it also has a boot capacity of 1030L in its most downsized form (and 4630L with the rear seats removed), any argument seems null and void.

The fact the boot is electrically operated, and that it has a separate tailgate glass opening section, and that you can open the boot using the keyfob – not to mention the kerbside door – just adds to the pragmatic appeal of this van.

The six rear seat backs can all be flattened down, and you can tumble them forward, too – the kerbside seats in a one-by-one motion, the driver’s side ones tumble two-at-a-time. It takes a bit of muscle to do those ones.

Essentially you can set it up as a parcel van if you want, or even as a mobile office – the rear seats can be configured to face each other, in ‘conference’ style. But you need to know that this isn’t an easy process, and once you’ve got it set how you want it, you’ll probably end up just leaving it as is.

Loose-item storage isn’t great, but at least the door pockets are large enough for some bottles and documents.

No matter which way you like it, those in the back will have good ventilation (it has a three-zone climate control system with a separate fan controller in the back above the second-row seats), and a decent amount of space. Crucially, there are no cup or bottle-holders, nor any loose item storage in the back two rows – there are mesh nets on the backrests of the very front seats, but that’s it.

If you plan to use this as a mover of smaller people, the V-Class’s child-seat anchor-point game will not disappoint. It has four ISOFIX anchors (two in each row) and six top tether points – yep, every spot in the back!

Up front there’s a problem with the cup-holder situation, too – there are two, but they’re way down on the floor, meaning it’s hard to access your cuppa on the move. In fact, loose-item storage isn’t great, but at least the door pockets are large enough for some bottles and documents. There’s a sunglass holder, too. The little media screen is a bit disappointing in its size, and the Comand controller codpiece that juts out from the centre console can take some getting used to.

Connecting and reconnecting a phone isn’t too difficult (although you have to pair audio streaming separately to phone streaming – which is weird), and there’s no extended smartphone capability such as Apple CarPlay or Android Auto. Using the navigation system is very simple, but the graphics are extremely aftermarket looking – that’s no bad thing, because Benz’s maps always looked a bit 1990s, but these ones are somewhat cartoonish.

There are two V-Class models you can buy;  this newly added V220d variant, at $74,990, or the high-spec V250d Avantgarde, which is listed at $87,200.

That’s a pretty huge difference, especially considering you get plenty of equipment in the lower-spec version. To get a better understanding, let’s list off what’s standard, and what you get if you fork out the extra $12,210 for the top model.

The V220d has a 7.0-inch media screen with Garmin maps, dual USB ports, Bluetooth phone and audio streaming, auto headlights and wipers, DAB+ digital radio, CD, auxiliary and SD input, electric parking brake, electric front-seat adjustment with memory settings, cruise control, colour driver information screen with digital speedometer, black leather trim and sports pedals.

There’s three-zone climate control and velour floor mats up front, too, while parking moves are made easy with the brand’s Active Parking Assist system, which can semi-autonomously park the van for you. Other niceties include front and rear parking sensors, a reversing camera, dark tinted rear glass, heated/folding/auto-dimming side mirrors, and electric side doors and tailgate (with opening glass section).

Stepping up to the V250d sees the addition of a 15-speaker Burmester sound system, ambient lighting (three colours), a higher-resolution 8.0-inch media screen with integrated Wi-Fi hotspot and online access and navigation with live traffic updates, a 360-degree surround-view camera, adaptive cruise control, illuminated door sills in stainless steel, a rear parcel shelf, 18-inch alloy wheels, anodised roof rails, a body kit, chrome exterior trimming, LED adaptive headlights with automated high-beam and LED daytime running lights, and tyre-pressure monitoring.

There’s some separation between the two in terms of engines as well – see below for more detail on that.

And for a little bit of context, there are no other luxury-branded people-movers out there. Buyers may consider alternatives like the Volkswagen Multivan Executive at $83,390 (wait, how much?), but in all honesty, if you can forego the badge and just want space for your money, the Kia Carnival Platinum ($61,290) offers a considerably better value equation.

The car we tested had the optional roof rails ($649) and parking system with surround-view camera ($616) fitted, and was an eight-seat model rather than a seven-seater, which adds $1346 to the price.

Because the platform is (mostly) borrowed from the Transit Custom, you get the same driveline. That starts with a 2.0-litre turbo diesel, good for 125kW of power and a useful 390Nm of torque. It drives through a conventional eight-speed automatic transmission and then to the front wheels as a means of keeping the load floor as flat and low as possible.

Ford claims a 2500kg towing capacity with a braked trailer, but on a wet road or damp boat ramp, that’s really going to test the limits of the front wheel’s grip which can be overcome even in the dry if you’re too hasty with the throttle.

The biggest engineering change in the move from Transit Custom to Tourneo has been the switch from leaf springs on the former to coil springs and an independent suspension on the latter. This is all in the name of ride quality and recognises the fact that the Transit will often be called on to cart heavier loads than eight humans.

Both the V220d and V250d are powered by 2.1-litre turbo diesel engines, but in differing states of tune.

The V220d has 120kW of power and 380Nm of torque, while the V250d pumps out 140kW and 440Nm. Those figures are decent given the capacity of the engine, and to help keep fuel use down it has stop-start, sadly it’s a bit grumbly and overactive.

Both run seven-speed automatic transmissions and are rear-wheel drive. The Benz vans have strong towing capability, with an unbraked towing capacity of 750kg, while it can deal with braked trailers up to 2500kg.

Ford quotes an official combined fuel consumption figure of 7.4 litres for the Tourneo. Over a few days of running in a pretty broad mix of urban and country work, we saw an average of 8.6 litres per 100km which is still pretty good for a vehicle of this size.

With the standard 70-litre fuel tank, that gives the Tourneo a theoretical combined range of around 900km between fills, but the real-world number says closer to 800km is more realistic.

Don’t forget, either, that running costs will be a little higher than some diesels, as the Tourneo requires AdBlue at regular intervals, in line with its Euro 6 emissions levels.

Mercedes-Benz claims that over a mix of urban and highway driving, the V-Class will return 6.3 litres per 100km, no matter whether you choose the V220d or the V250d – which is pretty good given the thing is long (5140mm), wide (1928mm) and relatively heavy (almost two tonnes).

Over a lengthy drive in the V220d – some of it on a twisty mountain road, some in stop-start traffic, most on the freeway – I managed 7.2L/100km. This will rise with added bodies, but not by much.

If you haven’t driven a one-box van for a decade or more, you’re in for a treat. Just like the Transit Custom on which this car is based, the Tourneo represents a different experience to that of a conventional car or SUV, but one that is not without merit.

For a start, you sit very high which means a great view out across the traffic. And while the driving position is a little less laid-back than a modern car, once you get used to the almost square steering wheel, neither is it the dreaded sit-up-and-beg of older van designs.

The four-cylinder engine doesn’t make the Tourneo a fast vehicle, but it does give it lots of flexibility thanks to all that turbo-torque being available from just off idle. The eight-speed transmission helps, too, but the real surprise is just how quiet the Tourneo is when on a cruising setting. In fact, it’s almost uncanny how such a big, empty metal box could be so silent, but beyond a little tyre noise on coarse surfaces, the Ford pulls it off. As a result, it’s very relaxed and effortless feeling at freeway speeds.

The other surprise is how good the ride quality is. By swapping the cargo van’s leaf rear springs for coils, the Tourneo suddenly displays a very good match between the front and rear axles in terms of how they work to absorb bumps. You do still get some of the front-seat sensation that you’re sitting over the front axle, but it’s not terrible and the reality is that you simply sitting closer to the axle, not right over it.

For many drivers perhaps the over-riding impression will be of the vehicle’s external size. And, yes, it’s a long and wide piece of equipment, but at least the boxy shape means the corners are easy to place and the huge glass area and driver aids like parking sensors and blind-spot warnings help a lot in the daily cut and thrust.

Things are also improved by the fabulously small turning circle of 10.9m kerb-to-kerb (courtesy of the Transit’s role as an inner-city delivery van) that gives an agility the looks don’t suggest. But there’s a sense that the Tourneo is a little wider in the rear track than the front, as you’ll sometimes find the inside rear tyre finding the lips of roundabouts and suburban gutters.

My drive saw me chauffeur my partner and our dog down to Cooma, where we then took my parents down the coast. We put the V-Class’s flexible seating to the test, as we had to buy a massive bathtub and bring it back with us. This proved that, although this thing is a luxury van, it can also be a hugely practical delivery van.

The comfort on offer was perhaps the biggest advantage for my passengers – with superb suspension composure, ride comfort and body control, the V-Class is like a big boxy limousine.

It won’t set your heart racing in corners as there’s quite a lot of body roll to contend with, but the steering is direct and very nicely weighted, making for easy progress whether you’re piloting it down a mountain pass or dealing with roundabouts or parking lots. The turning circle is small, which in turn makes the van feel smaller than it actually is.

The brakes can feel a little numb underfoot, meaning you might find yourself pushing a little harder on the pedal than you think you ought to. The response is good, though, even with weight on board.

The extra, effortless grunt of the V250d would be advantageous.

What was a little surprising was a lack of torque at higher speeds for overtaking moves. On a slightly sloping country back road with four adults on board, I expected there to be well and truly enough for a quick overtaking move – but the drivetrain didn’t quite have the grunt to get the job done. At least, not in the Comfort drive mode.

By using the ‘Dynamic’ drive selector and choosing Sport mode, there was extra push on offer – the gearing changed, and so did the throttle response – and that made overtaking moves a little easier. But still, the extra, effortless grunt of the V250d would be advantageous, and I know I wouldn’t like having to play with the drive-mode switch every time I overtook. Just leave it in Sport mode? You’ll pay the price on fuel use. 

Around town the seven-speed auto went about its job really well, offering smooth shifts in all situations. The transmission can clunk when you engage park or shift to reverse, though, which isn’t overly premium, and there is some turbo lag that you’ll have to remember when you prepare to take off from traffic lights. Another thing that didn’t necessarily persuade my passengers of the premiumness on offer was the fact that the kerbside door leaked when it was raining. Not good.

The V-Class has been awarded the highest possible ANCAP crash test score of five stars – it achieved that in 2014, based on a EuroNCAP score that was put through local screening.

It has plenty of safety kit to keep your mind at ease – whether you’re a driver or passenger.

There are six airbags, including full-length curtain coverage, and the V-Class has a reversing camera with dynamic guide lines, an adaptive electronic stability control system (ESP) with load sensitivity and cross-wind assist, rollover mitigation, trailer-sway control (when fitted with a genuine Benz towbar), hill-hold assist, flashing brake lights under emergency braking and driver-drowsiness detection.

There are other handy features, including auto headlights and rain-sensing wipers, auto-dimming interior and exterior mirrors, forward collision warning (not AEB), blind-spot monitoring, lane-keeping assist (but not with steering intervention).

You’ve got spend up to the V250d to get the adaptive cruise control system, but there’s still no AEB on that variant.

Ford offers its standard five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty on the Tourneo. Five years is fair enough, but can’t match the seven years or even more that some of the competition offer. It‘s worth noting, however, that the warranty does match many of the makes and models that will be the Ford’s natural enemies.

Service intervals are 12 months or a very long 30,000km, but it’s unlikely many families will clock up 30,000km in a 12-month period, anyway. There’s no word on capped-price servicing yet, but the mechanically similar Transit Custom has a service plan that limits the cost of each of the first four services to around $500.

The biggest additional running cost for the Tourneo will be the AdBlue additive to control emissions. How frequently you need to top up will be determined by what type of driving you do.

Mercedes-Benz Vans backs the V-Class with a three-year/200,000km warranty plan, which is good.

The company has also introduced a new capped-price servicing plan for the V-Class, with maintenance due every 12 months or 25,000km, whichever occurs first. The fact the distance intervals are so far apart could be a bonus for business operators, but the costs are high: the first service costs $556, then the following two visits will set you back $1112 each time. Yikes.

A longer capped-price plan with lower prices would make this van a lot more attractive to business owners. A Kia Carnival could make a lot of sense in that regard, too – even business operators get a seven-year/150,000km warranty with a seven-year/105,000km capped-price plan, and the same cover for roadside assist.