It’s best described as being halfway between a Mini five-door and a Mini Countryman in size. In ethos, you could argue that it’s the modern-day 2CV, what with its unpretentiousness, practicality and supposed affordability.
Whatever it is, it’s definitely not an off-roader, despite those looks, and it’s front-wheel drive only. Still, that’ll be fine for the gentle loose stuff that we’ll be going on.
That interior, from which we peer out at the barren landscape, is one of the Cactus’s real high points. However bold the exterior may be, this is a car designed from the outside in. It’s a shame that our Cactus has a manual transmission, because otherwise we’d be able to enjoy the full effect of the interior party tricks thanks to the front ‘sofa’ seat that automatic models possess.
Even without it, though, there are plenty of thoughtful touches in here. The driver’s seat is wide and comfortable and visibility is excellent. The controls are so simple, too. Almost all of the functions – pedals, steering wheel and column stalks excluded – are controlled by the touchscreen and a row of buttons on either side of it. Also of note is the glovebox (no, really), because it is a rare thing in a modern car in that it is a large, usable storage space, something that has been made possible by relocating the front airbags into the roof.
Within an hour, I’m fearing that an airbag might be called into action as the showbiz adage ‘never work with children and animals’ is broken. For we’ve made it to the first stop of the day, Mini Hollywood, a full-on western town that’s more Lone Star State than south-east Spain. It was created as a film set for the spaghetti western For A Few Dollars More and used for many more after that, including The Good, The Bad And The Ugly.
Mini Hollywood, one of several such facilities in the region, is now a tourist attraction. Christina knows the operators very well and that leads her to tell us: “You have a cowboy and horse you can use for four hours.” Erm… okay.
Cue some rather awkward set-up shots as I chase Rocket the horse, who’s ridden expertly by authentic-looking cowboy Diero, around corners, marvelling at Rocket’s instant torque off the line and four-hoof-drive traction while I spin my wheels and try to catch up. Following an unpredictable animal so closely focuses the mind. Still, the Cactus is a good car in which to perform such a random undertaking, thanks to its lofty driving position and good visibility.
Next we try to drive the car into Mini Hollywood’s Cactus Garden for some photographs. But it’s not designed for cars and the entrance is a squeeze. I misjudge it on one side and feel a bit of squidgy resistance. I’ve wedged it against to a wooden post, but the car’s cactus spike-inspired Airbumps have come to my rescue and spared my blushes. Now I get the point of them.
Suitably chastened, I drive out of Mini Hollywood and into the real desert and mountains. The Cactus stands out more than ever against the barren landscape, especially when we finally find some proper cacti to shoot against. We climb mountain roads on the most abrasive of surfaces and the Cactus feels robust in dealing with them – the kind of car that can soak up any type of abuse and come back for more, like a family car should.
As Papior finishes taking photos of a now dust-covered Cactus at sunset, it’s the car’s originality that stands out. This is a car that turns heads and draws crowds when it is parked up, the sort of car on which even people who aren’t interested in cars will have an opinion.