Here we’re in the realm of the Grand Scenic’s raison d’etre, and if there’s one thing that will strike you if you’ve ever been inside the previous-generation car, it’s how well constructed this new model feels.
In design it’s partly inspired by the latest Mégane. The air vents, stereo and climate controls occupy the same positions as in the hatch, but materials differ in places and feel of a higher quality in the Grand Scenic. The instrument binnacle is, as is common on MPVs, installed atop the dash’s centre rather than behind the steering wheel, and it works extremely well. The major dials – speedo, rev counter, fuel gauge
and so on – are all sited on a digital screen that has an excellent graphical quality.
The front seats are comfortable, as is the widely adjustable driving position, and the centre and rear rows are as spacious as one can reasonably expect within the confines of this car’s size.
With all seven seats in place, boot space is limited to 208 litres, but there’s a neat storage cubby just inside the boot opening to stow the luggage cover when it’s not in use. With the two rearmost seats folded (they stow separately) you get a rather more useful boot volume, and with the three centre seats removed the load area is a full two metres long and the volume a whopping 2063 litres, turning the Grand Scenic into a small van in all but name.
The rear doors, as with most rivals, hinge rather than sliding like the Mazda 5’s. And for those who prefer a proper spare wheel to a can of repair foam (as we do), that’s a cost option. And even then it’s a space saver hung beneath the car body.
Although the Scenic had things almost to itself back in 1996, the seven-seat MPV market is now a crowded one, but one in which the Grand Scenic still makes a very competitive case for itself. Its price is keen and equipment levels and option prices are similarly strong.
