Renault Grand Scenic 1.4 TCe (2009) CAR review

Ho hum… Another day, another compact family MPV. Only this time we really should sit up and pay attention at the back. After all, Renault started the whole boiling with the first Scenic back in … oh, 1873, and three generations on - and having finally found sufficient brand confidence to drop the Megane moniker - you’d expect Renault to have pretty much got everything absolutely right.

And has Renault got it rigth with this new Grand Scenic?

Largely, yes. It’s a relatively simple formula; cram the most flexible seating possible for up to seven into a box with wheels, add 27 cupholders, and style it. Yet it’s amazing how many cock-ups still make it to the launch pad: Nissan’s Qashqai+2, for instance, boasts third row seats into which you can’t load children without mithering between doors and tailgate, whilst sporting the anatomical properties of Kali to boot. This is what happens when you leave engineers alone in darkened rooms for too long, like mushrooms…

Happily, Renault appears to have given the Grand Scenic job to engineers who have actually emerged from their moist compost for long enough to have families. Third row seats flail merrily up and down like a hermit’s fist with a simple tug of a cheery red strap and, even if the headrest doesn’t quite reach the required height, there’s adult headroom here.

Three independent, equal sized second row seats slide to and fro through 170mm to allow rugby prop forward shoulders to overlap, and the backs adjust for rake. A simple, one-tug lever folds each one flat, and then forwards, for third row access. Perfectly comfortable despite added narrowness, each seat can be removed altogether without recourse to a hernia truss. Though the resultant loadspace isn’t fully flat due to sensible third row footwell requirements, its volume does expand from 564 to a cavernous 2063 litres. Finally, fold the front passenger seat forwards for the successful stowage of record marlin, even after rigor mortis has set in.

The new Grand Scenic is predictable awash with ‘storage solutions’, said to number 42 in all. Most, such as both front and rear floor bins, under seat drawers, a chilled, 11 litre glovebox and a sliding centre console, are wholesome. But there’s too little phone, fags and femininity stowage round the gear lever, where you actually want it, the front door pockets have been so stylised that an embossed diagram is required to show you how to insert even a water bottle (honest), and one particular tray (No. 41?) adjacent to the instrument binnacle is barely big enough to house your prize marble.

>> Click 'Next' below to read more of our Renault Grand Scenic first drive