Only the uppermost Summit trim level will be offered to UK customers, so it’s all massaging ‘eco leather’ seats, 20in wheels, laminated side windows and 14-speaker stereo with speakers in the front headrests.
The Tiggo 9 is a full-size seven-seater even accounting for its PHEV components (the likes of the Skoda Kodiaq and Volkswagen Tayron can’t be had as seven-seat PHEVs).
There are Isofix anchors on the outer second-row seats, which slide and tilt forwards, if a little stubbornly, to reveal a third row.
Room in row two is entirely adult-appropriate; in row three it’s a class-typical sort of situation, suited to smaller travellers only but usable nevertheless.
Up front, the general standard on material quality is no better than in the Tiggo 7 or Tiggo 8. There’s an awful lot of shiny plastic to survey and many of the fittings are too flimsy and cheap to lend any kind of convincing premium feel.
But then there aren’t many physical switches anyway, with a 15.6in touchscreen system standing in for a physical heater console, proper door mirror adjusters, regenerative braking controls and even a starter button.
It’s bright and crisp, although a good chunk of it is hidden behind the steering wheel rim, so you have to crane your neck to see it, and the usability of it is poor. Expect lots of sub-menus and list-scrolling and no easy way to jump in and out of smartphone mirroring (Apple CarPlay fills the whole screen).
Also expect various other bits of unintuitive, software-related oddities. An economy computer that gives you efficiency in three different ways, none of which you can actually reset; ADAS and driver monitoring toggles that don’t all appear in the same place; and a factory sat-nav system that doesn’t work without messing around with your phone and a QR code. Sorry, did someone say this was supposed to be a happy car?