Avan Cruiseliner vs Chery C5

What's the difference?

The Avan isn’t for everyone, although usually when I speak to owners, they’re a passionate lot who love their campers. 

I really like how easy this is to set up and pack up, and the level of comfort a solid-walled camper offers. They don’t feel very large inside, mainly thanks to the sloping roof, and that’s where something like the Jayco Penguin just wins out. 

But if you can sacrifice that ‘feeling’ of space, this is a highly featured camper with a good amount of rough-road ability.

Can a new name, fresh face and suspension update save Chery’s sleek SUV coupe from the ignominy of being one of the least pleasant options in its ultra-competitive class?

Sadly, not enough has been done for us to recommend the new C5.

As an affordable, stylish, roomy and zoomy SUV, the Chery definitely provides showroom appeal, especially given the decent warranty.

But, with lots of little niggles still present to distract and frustrate, the C5 is far from A1. Plus, with prices now creeping up, it doesn’t even have the cheap pricing of the old Omoda 5 to get it over the line.

Heading into 2026, Chery still needs to do better than this.

Almost no-one builds an 11-foot caravan any more, and hasn’t since the 1960s, probably, but that’s essentially what the interior of the Cruiseliner is like. 

Small and pokey as it is, though, it’s not impractical and not even uncomfortable. With a bed at the back, kitchen in the middle and dinette at the front, it’s got all the basic elements for comfort and because of the steep pitch of the roof, there’s plenty of headroom where it’s needed most. 

It’s actually quite an efficient little space for two people, and that’s demonstrated in the storage that’s available. Almost all of it is easy to get to – except the cupboard under the table – and some of the biggest areas can be accessed from inside or out.

Three things struck me the moment I stepped inside the C5.

Firstly, though the silhouette suggests a low-slung car, the tall stance means getting in and out isn’t a drama at all, with the seats being up high enough for this to deserve its SUV/crossover status.

Secondly, the Chery emits a somewhat repellent plastic off-gas odour, a bit like a cheap toy. The smell never goes away. Perhaps it was just our test car? Unlikely though, as it reminds me of pre-2000s Kias and Hyundais.

And in stark contrast, thirdly, there’s an arresting elegance to the dashboard’s minimalist layout and presentation. Nothing’s changed visually and nothing needed to.

Let’s concentrate on the many positive points first.

There’s plenty of space around you for a comparatively small and narrow SUV, including ample legroom and head room for your 178cm tester front and back. It doesn't feel cramped at all.

Finding the ideal driving position is easy, with most of the (available) switches and controls where you’d need them to be without having to stretch to reach. Helping things out here is an adjustable steering wheel for rake as well as reach. Unlike in an MG ZS.

The dash layout looks great, given that this car is of a 2022 vintage, with the large, twin 10.25-inch integrated displays for both the electronic instrumentation and the multimedia system seamlessly presented. Both are fairly clear and easy to work out and operate. And, despite being an older-generation vehicle (it’s now well into year four of production), the instruments still look fresh.

And though the C5 runs a software-based operating system for vehicle functions, climate, audio, multimedia and other settings, the few buttons provided are well integrated and mostly work logically.

Below the touchscreen is a row of haptic switches for the main heating and cooling elements, meaning just one touch is necessary and with no complicated and time-consuming sub-menus to navigate. That's good.

You do need to dive into sub-menus for some drive settings and modes, though, and that's disappointing, but at least the C5’s is not as complicated as some others we’ve experienced of late.

Other plus points include excellent ventilation and loads of storage, including a big old glovebox, a cavernous centre console bin, a vast lower area to hide things on, deep cupholders and a ‘wall’ to lean two phones or a tablet while still being visible for the driver to glance at, with one side providing wireless charging on the Ultimate grade.

Along with pleasant cloth seats that are surprisingly comfortable, all show a reassuring degree of thoughtfulness.

Additionally, the poor side and rear vision is at least aided by large side mirrors and a crisp reverse-camera views.

However, there are some serious downsides too, starting with the C5’s aforementioned phone/tablet wall. The rubber backing in our test car was misshapen and dog-eared, undermining the otherwise exemplary build quality.

Until you learn its weird ways, the gear shifter can be unfathomable. It looks like it would operate as per a regular T-bar, but pressing the side button to engage Drive or Reverse instead locks them out, meaning the uninitiated will inevitably find themselves panicking manoeuvring in traffic with impatient drivers wondering why a Chery is blocking the road during a cheeky three-point turn. Embarrassing and, yes, super frustrating.

In the Ultra at least, the lofty front passenger seat has no height adjustment. The digital radio did not work for the entire week we had the C5. Maybe it was just our car, but even in inner Melbourne, reception proved elusive.

And the touchscreen-based secondary climate settings that aren’t supported by physical buttons are a stretch away, including temperature adjustment, meaning these and other items are arranged for left-hand-drive access.

This means it is fiddly to operate, as concentration is not on the road ahead, resulting in the driver monitor sounding off, leading to more frustration. An unvirtuous circle of distraction ensues, highlighting the folly of software-based vehicle systems that have not been tailored to Australian road conditions. Fail.

But nothing is as aggravating as the Chery’s voice control system. Like we said earlier, when turned on, it mishears or misunderstands words to almost a comical degree… if it wasn’t so constantly intrusive. As with paranoid and/or trigger-happy ADAS warnings, you end up switching off such irritating tech. Which beggars the question: what is their point?

Moving to the back seat, things look up again, with sufficient space for most smaller families to settle into.

The bench is fine, offering adequate comfort for shorter journeys. Legroom is generous, helped out by room for boots to tuck underneath the front cushion. And most amenities are present for a base model car, including a folding armrest with two cupholders (again, unlike in an MG ZS), as well as one-touch electric windows, overhead grab handles, coat hooks, decent size door bins, a USB port and face level ventilation.

All those go towards making the C5 well-packaged, small family transport.

Further back, Chery has managed to liberate an extra 10 litres of cargo capacity compared to the old Omoda 5, so 360 litres is available – which is not bad for a small SUV. That rises to 1075L in two-seater mode.

It’s also a practical and easy boot to use, with a space saver spare wheel.

The Cruiseliner Adventure Plus was great to tow. The low weight and low roof height reduces drag and it’s very stable on the road. For a little while, Avan was importing its suspension from overseas, and the system had a few teething problems. Now the Adventure Plus is fitted with Australian-made AL-KO Enduro independent coil-spring suspension, which is a very reliable and high-performing package. 

Although this is the ‘off-road’ version of the Avan, the company’s ‘off-road’ policy is very conservative, and it recommends this only for gravel roads and water crossings no deeper than the bottom of the chassis. 

The off-road pack does go a little further than Jayco’s Outback pack, though, as Avan includes and off-road hitch, upgraded drawer runners and wall hinges, over and above the upgraded suspension and chassis. 

Chery has made some pretty fundamental changes underneath, so we had higher hopes of the C5 compared to the preceding Omoda 5. However, expectations ought to be tempered here.

Let’s begin with the Chinese SUV’s performance.

After a moment’s hesitation, the C5 feels punchy from the get-go, with a decent amount of muscle as the revs rise. Throttle response is brisk, even at higher speeds. And the brakes do a great job. This is quite the rapid little runabout.

Some of that initial lag is down to the dual-clutch transmission, since it needs time for the turbo to spool up. Once sorted, it shifts swiftly and smoothly, and without delay. Only the aforementioned gear selector complication will catch out new drivers, as the operation is needlessly complicated.

But the engine is never really quiet, and can even feel coarse when extended under hard acceleration, betraying this Chery’s station as a cheap SUV. And the stop/start tech is especially jerky.

The steering, meanwhile, is a mix of disgruntle and delight.

When driving on the motorway, it can feel lumpy, with the driver-assist system tugging away endlessly at the wheel. The sudden jolts make it feel like a pinball as the vehicle feels like it is ricocheting off the white lines. Such constant correction is both tiring and irritating, leading to fatigue and, if your fuse is really short, aggravation.

For steering smoothness or linearity, you need to dive into a sub menu and opt out of several ADAS modes. Or otherwise pull over and wonder why Chinese car companies especially seem to have such disdain for Australian drivers. If this sounds like a nightmare, the C5 is not for you.

Furthermore, there’s no point choosing a steering setting. Comfort is light enough for easy driving and weighty enough for the driver to feel in control, but feedback and feel are absent. And selecting Sport just adds needless heft and makes it all feel way too heavy.

Now, that said, the C5 offers some dynamic compensation, and likely courtesy of its multi-link suspension upgrade.

At higher speeds, the steering, for instance, is pleasingly direct and precise, meaning it turns exactly where you choose it to. The handling feels controlled and the tyres grip well, for some unintentional scrappy fun through really tight corners, to a certain extent anyway. It’s a side to the Chery the Omoda 5 never seemed capable of delivering.

But, inevitably, this comes at a price, and that is a busy and at times agitated ride, with the suspension failing to soak up bumps and irregularities on anything other than smooth roads, despite its new-found independence, adding to further fatigue. For the record, our test car rode on 215/60R17 Giti tyres.

Would higher-quality rubber help fix this? If you’re buying a sub-$30K Chery SUV, would you even care? Basically, unless you enjoy the occasional hoon, the C5 lacks dynamic sophistication as well as sufficient Australian road tuning. Much like its predecessor. Such a letdown.