Renault Scenic 1.5 dCi (2009) CAR review

Captain Birdseye, the editor, (so named for his production line mentality and ability to produce a selection of bland, easily digested pieces for mass, unthinking consumption) decreed that I should test the new Scenic. Despite my earnest pleas for leniency he was resolute, I think he may envy my loins; for while I have a wife, two progeny, notoriety and three cars- he has a mountain bike, haemorrhoids and low sperm count. My offers of unselfish insemination of his partner Marie at last year’s Christmas party, weren’t taken in the spirit intended and there and I am beginning to consider that my enmity is requited.

So off to the launch and there are various photos of happy families playing happy games and having happy times. Why even grand-mamma looks gleeful and gay; showing none of the resentment and rancour that usually accompanies even the shortest journey squeezed into the malodorous confines of a small people mover with both aging and not yet fully formed intestinal tracts. As a father myself I notice that there is no possible way that all the equipment could have been transported from home to happy place within the car itself, without resort to a step ladder and roof box (not shown). Much was made of the investigation and research done on how Renaults “friends” (nothing as base as a “customer” or “client” when using a Scenic obviously) use their current cars and how things could be improved. Many slides were produced (as was some truly awful cheese), but alas there was no replication of the wine crate loading so beloved by Mr Vicar in the Renault 16 launch of yore. To entertain myself I imaged Mr Bonomi and his boss Claire performing the can-can as the spoke, replete with musical accompaniment in my head. Ra-da, radada dad a, this now has a second hinge ra da, dadada hey, seven air bags, ra da da crappy plastics (oops sorry got a little carried away). The ordeal was a full hour long, with questions on top and as ever there was a junior reporter who ignored the dagger laden glares of her more elderly peers and asked a very hirsute chappy called Sebastian the safety expert, how they planned to maintain Renaults lead in the safety stakes. I could have clubbed her to submission with her recorder. The old gent from Autocar actually snorted in derision, but she continued. Waffle, upon piffle upon an empty stomach, never good before a drive.

And so to the drive (sadly once again pas de jaune), I can pleasantly report that it is as slow and as ponderous as you undoubtedly expect. There is a lolling and a rolling but easily cleaned fabrics and slippery seats so I can at least alarm the children adequately with a convincing sense of insanity when they misbehave. Nothing quietens the car more effectively than a rampant father yelling with ferocity, threatening all manner of punishment at trip’s end and a commitment to corners that would shame Alonso in a quest to arrive expediently to administer it. The steering is woolly and disconnected, the seats are fabulously comfortable and easily rearranged and there are all manner of small crevices for things to get lost in. Sensibly, Renault understand that mud will travel with no respect for gravity and also understand that it will only be cleaned by people who wouldn’t allow it to get dirty in the first place, so everything is as robust and as chamfered as any parent may hope. The centre stack resembles some sort baboon’s face with the hooded brow over the instruments and air vents for the nose. But a small thing, why can’t the instruments be in front of the driver? Is it so hard for them to assume the sight lines that ergonomic evolution has dictated? Flourish is fine, but would it not be better to have fewer airbags and better instrumentation?

The external shape and form is very plain, it puts the secret reviewer rather in mind of a tea pot. Functionally rotund is perhaps the best descr

Forget Saabs - architects and urban planners with families love these things.

That may explain much of the under-whelming new build in our cities, of course.