Fiat 500X vs LDV G10

What's the difference?

The 500X is a fun-looking alternative to the various options available from everyone else and is - overall - better to drive than its Renegade twin. 

It packs a very good safety package which you can't ignore but does lose points on the warranty and servicing regime. But it's also built to take four adults in comfort, which not every car in the segment can boast.

The LDV G10 is a solid option for those buyers who just want a van that gets the job done. It was decent with weight on board, but is probably better suited to parcel carriers rather than pallet shifters.

Safety levels are the biggest concern, as it is falling behind in the class when it comes to active safety tech, and its weak crash test score could be enough to rule it out for some customers. 

Look, I like the 500X, but I know why people don't. It's clearly a 500X in the way a Mini Countryman is a Mini. It looks like a 500, but get closer and you see the difference. It's chubby like a $10 weekend market Bhudda statue and has great big googly eyes like Mr Magoo. I find this endearing, my wife does not. The looks aren't the only thing she doesn't like.

The cabin is a bit more restrained and I quite like the band of colour stretching across the dash. The 500X is meant to be a bit more grown up than the 500, so there's a proper dash, more sensible design choices but it still has the big buttons, perfect for the meaty fingers of people who won't be buying this car.

The more you see LDV G10 vans, the more regular they look. Familiarity breeds ignorance, I guess, but I still think the G10 looks smart. 

It isn’t quite as boxy as some, with its sleeker front-end styling and almost sedan-like tail-lights helping it stand out from the ‘box-on-wheels’ stigma. It gets 16-inch alloy wheels as standard, and has halogen headlights and misses out on daytime running lights.

But it still is a box on wheels, measuring 5168mm long (on a 3198mm wheelbase), 1980mm wide and 1928mm tall. That makes it a darn sight smaller than the new HiAce, which stepped up significantly in size, and about on par with a Renault Trafic SWB or Ford Transit Custom 300S SWB. 

The perceived build quality is mostly okay, though our test car had a few loose plastics on the outside and a seemingly mis-fit windshield rubber.

At just 4.25 metres, the 500X isn't big, but makes the most of what it's got. The boot impresses at 350 litres and with the seats down, I think you could reasonably expect to triple that figure, though Fiat doesn't have an official number that I can find. For added Italian feel, you can tip the passenger seat forward to get really long things in, like a Billy bookshelf flat pack from Ikea.

Rear seat passengers sit high and upright meaning leg and kneeroom are maximised and with that tall roof, you won't scrape your head. 

The doors each have a small bottle holder for a total of four and Fiat has got serious about cupholders - the 500X now has four.

Those dimensions translate to a cargo space of 5.2 cubic metres, with a load space spanning 2500mm long, 1590mm wide (1270mm between the arches) and 1270mm tall. That mightn’t be big enough for you, and that’s too bad - there is no high roof version, nor a long-wheelbase model; but you could get an LDV V80 if you really need to step up in size… but we wouldn’t suggest you do that.

The payload for this model is 1010kg, which is decent but not benchmark-setting. It has a gross vehicle mass of 3000kg, meaning a kerb weight of 1990kg. The gross combination mass depends on the model: the GCM for diesel models is 5000kg for a braked trailer, while petrol models have a GCM of 4750kg for a braked trailer (auto) and 4500kg (manual). All models have a GCM of 3750kg for unbraked trailers.

The petrol versions have 1093kg of payload, if you prefer that fuel type. Interestingly, the manual versions have leaf spring rear suspension, while the auto models have coil springs as part of a five-link suspension architecture.

The load area has a six floor-mounted and four wall-mounted tie-down hooks, and the floor is lined with a vinyl covering while up to half-height the inner walls are lined, too. There are four lights mounted on the walls, which is handy for after-hours work.

And every LDV G10 comes with dual sliding side doors (some brands charge thousands more for this convenience), while the back door is a tailgate as standard, with the option of barn doors for diesel models.

For those who need to fork loads in, the barn doors are a no brainer, because the side door apertures (at 820mm wide) aren’t broad enough to load in using a lift. The tailgate also makes it very difficult to load weight in, as we found on test, as our mates at Crown Lifts had to use long tines to fork in our 750kg ballast.

When it comes to creature comforts up front, there is a pair of low-mounted pop-out cupholders, and an open storage area between the seats. There isn’t much covered storage, so if you often carry valuables, you may need to keep that in mind. 

The seats are comfortable and offer good adjustment, and they’ve been changed since the diesel auto model launched. They’re no longer a cheap-feeling fabric, but rather a faux-leather accented, mesh-lined set of seats, and both have armrests. Nice.

The presentation is okay, but the ergonomics could be better. The touchscreen is mounted down lower than most, and means you may need to take your eyes away from the road because the controls are down even lower. And the USB? Near the floor.

That screen is still a 7.0-inch display, but now has the same software system as the newer models in the LDV range. That means a nice crisp colourful display with the added advantage of Apple CarPlay… if you can get it to work. We had a few issues when reconnecting a phone without re-starting the car. 

If you’re buying an LDV G10, it’s because of the price. The cost of the diesel automatic model we’ve got is usually $32,490 drive-away for ABN holders, but there are promotions running listing it at $29,990 drive-away for ABN holders at the time of writing. If you’re not an ABN holder, just get one, because you’ll save heaps (the G10 diesel auto is $34,147 drive-away for non-ABN holders).

You can get other vans for around this money - the Renault Trafic Trader Life manual, with its gutless 66kW turbo-diesel engine, is $30,990 d/a. But you won’t find a diesel Hyundai iLoad, Peugeot Partner or Toyota HiAce within $10,000 of the LDV.

As for standard spec, you get 16-inch alloy wheels, tyre pressure monitoring, climate control air-conditioning, a 7.0-inch touchscreen with USB connectivity, Apple CarPlay, Bluetooth phone and audio streaming, CD player and AM/FM radio, a digital speedometer, two part fake-leather seats with arm-rests (driver’s side with height adjust), carpet flooring up front, and vinyl floor protective liner in the rear, and a reversing camera. 

Standard body fit out is dual sliding side doors and a lift tailgate, though you can get barn doors fitted on diesel models. Unlike some competitors, there is no option for glazing in the rear doors or side panels. 

There are also no auto headlights, no auto wipers, push-button start, keyless entry, leather-lined steering wheel, reach adjustment for the steering, and there’s quite a bit missing in the safety section of this review - see below.

Fiat's rather excellent 1.4-litre turbo MultiAir does duty under the stubby bonnet, making 103kW and 230Nm. Rather less excellent is the six-speed dual-clutch automatic transmission, which sends power through the front wheels only.

It's rated to tow a 1200kg braked trailer and 600kg unbraked.

Under the bonnet of the diesel G10 is a 1.9-litre four-cylinder turbo-diesel with 106kW of power and 350Nm of torque. There’s the choice of a six-speed manual or six-speed automatic, and the G10 is rear-wheel drive. It has a diesel particulate filter, but not stop-start or AdBlue.

Prefer petrol? There’s a 2.4-litre five-speed manual model (105kW/200Nm) or a 2.0-litre turbocharged six-speed auto (165kW/330Nm). Those models are cheaper - $25,990 for the manual for ABN holders, while the turbo-petrol auto is $30,990 d/a. 

Fiat rather optimistically suggest you'll get a combined cycle figure of 5.7L/100km but try as I might, I couldn't do better than 11.2L/100km. What's worse, it demands 98RON fuel, so it's not the cheapest car to run. This figure us consistent with past weeks in the 500X and no, I wasn't thrashing it.

The combined cycle fuel use claim for the LDV G10 diesel auto is 8.6 litres per 100 kilometres. The manual version uses 8.3L/100km according to the brand.

On test we saw a fuel use return of 9.7L/100km at the pump, across a mix of urban, highway and freeway driving, with and without a load. 

Petrol models use a claimed 11.5L (manual) and 11.7L (auto) per hundred.

Again, I shouldn't like the 500X but I really don't mind it. It's flawed, which might be why.

The dual-clutch transmission is dumber than a box of loose cogs, lurching from start and looking the other way when you expect it to shift. We know the engine is a good one and I think part of the reason it's so thirsty is the confused way the transmission goes about its business. I'd love to drive a manual to see what it's like.

The 500X initially feels worse than its Jeep Renegade sibling-under-the-skin, which is quite an achievement. Part of that is to do with the ride, which is very choppy below 60km/h. The first 500X I drove wallowed about but this one is a bit tauter, which would be good if you weren't punished with this bounciness.

The seats themselves comfortable and the interior is a good place to hang out. It's reasonably quiet, too, which is at odds with the old-school silliness of its conduct. It feels like Labrador let out of after day kept inside.

And that's where the car I shouldn't like is a car I do like - I really like that it feels like you're on Roman cobblestones, the type that make your knees hurt when you walk on them for a day. The steering wheel is too fat and is at a weird angle, but you kind of square up to it and drive the car like your life depends on it. You have to take it by the scruff, correct the shifts with the paddles and show it who's boss.

Obviously, that's not for everyone. If you drive it really gently, it's a very different experience, but that means going slowly everywhere, which is no fun at all and not at all Italian.

You probably wouldn’t choose an LDV G10 as a daily driver if you didn’t intend to use the cargo zone at least 80 per cent of the time.

But if - for whatever reason - you really want to use a van like this on a day-to-day basis, you won’t hate it. 

The G10 drives pretty nicely for this type of vehicle. It isn’t as bouncy when unladen as some of the other vans out there, with the suspension proving very quick to settle and mostly very compliant across mixed surfaces. 

The steering wheel can jostle a bit over sharp edges, but it steers well, with decent (not too heavy) weighting and predictable response at all speeds. 

Without weight on board the engine feels reasonably urgent in its response, which is a bit of a surprise because it’s not a powerhouse based on its outputs. It revs smoothly and pulls with good strength, with little turbo lag to contend with. While it is a bit of a grumbly engine at times, the response is better than adequate.

Plus the transmission is well sorted, with smooth shifts that are predictable.

The braking response is definitely better without weight on board, with a decent progression to the pedal and decent bite when you press hard on the anchors.

If safety matters to you, this could be your reason not to buy an LDV G10.

The van scored a mediocre three-star ANCAP crash test safety score - which would be more acceptable if that was under the current, strictest criteria, but it was actually tested in 2015. Which means it would be even lower if tested today.

One of the reasons is the safety equipment - there’s not a lot of it. You get dual front airbags, but no side airbags or curtains. There is no advanced tech like auto emergency braking (AEB), no lane keeping assistance or lane departure warning, no blind spot monitoring or rear cross-traffic alert… But you do get a reversing camera and rear parking sensors.

Fiat offers a three-year/150,000km warranty, along with roadside assist for the same period. It's not great as more manufacturers shift to five years. 

Service intervals arrive once a year or 15,000km. There is no fixed or capped-price servicing program for the 500X.

LDV isn’t close to the leaders in the segment for ownership, with a behind-the-times three-year/100,000km warranty (admittedly with the same cover for roadside assist), and no capped price servicing plan. 

Service intervals are every 12 months/10,000km, which is short, and you need to get an initial service done at 5000km, too. 

If you’re worried about long-term longevity, you can check out our LDV G10 problems page.