Ford Tourneo Custom vs Audi RS6

What's the difference?

There’s absolutely no doubt that the van-based people-mover has some distinct advantages over a three-row SUV. The rear seat is bigger, access to it is far better and there’s more luggage space even when all eight seats are occupied. But the Tourneo goes a step or two further with the sliding, swivelling seats that make it one of the most practical and flexible interiors on the market.

True, the driving experience is a bit alien at first, but it’s a case of different, rather than worse. Meantime, the ride is excellent and the performance and economy from the turbo-diesel driveline are both absolutely spot on for this vehicle’s intended purpose.

And perhaps that’s the metaphor for the whole thing: By not trying to be something it’s not, and concentrating on what it needs to do, the Tourneo emerges as a bit of a quiet achiever.

As we said earlier, this type of vehicle concept is never a sure-fire proposition. Parcel vans converted to passenger duties haven’t always worked out. This time, though, it’s different.

You’ll notice a number out of 10 on this review, you should ignore it.

Not only is it irrelevant because you can’t buy one, but the RS6 Avant GT isn’t a ‘brain’ car, it’s a ‘heart’ car. As much as a five-seat wagon can be, anyway.

Whether you think it’s overkill, overpriced, or overhyped, the GT is a celebration of a car that’s become such an icon for petrolheads. It’s also probably a marker for the end of an era, because we don’t see many V8 family cars getting about anymore.

Well done to Audi, the accounting team in particular, and if anyone who owns an Avant GT is willing to let me have another drive, my in-box is open. 

Or I’ll just keep an eye out.

Perhaps the biggest revision of the successful Transit Custom formula needed to make the leap from FedEx to Brady Bunch has been to the rear suspension. Where the Transit uses a leaf-sprung arrangement, the Tourneo has switched to coil rear springs. These technically offer much greater ride comfort at the expense of some load-carrying ability. Which is fine, even if your kids are the bigger variety.

The move to powered sliding side doors is a welcome one, but I found out the hard way that the doors will still open a fraction if you push the button while still travelling at low speed. Not sure why that would be, but at least the buttons in question are up front in Adult-Land, not within reach of you-know-who.

The reality is, too, that the Tourneo is destined to run with the air-con on any time you have bodes in the back. That’s because – like a lot of van conversions – there’s no opening side windows beyond the tiny, hinged windows that open an equally tiny amount. This has more to do with the Transit’s basic structure than any desire to oxygen-deprive the young `uns, but as any parent knows, a supply of fresh air on the move is sometimes the only thing between a happy day out and a clean up in Aisle five.

“It looks like a toy car you’d get in a Kinder Surprise” was the first comment from my housemate upon seeing the $400K collector's item on wheels.

Harsh, but to anyone unfamiliar with the Audi 90 quattro IMSA GTO racer, there’s arguably too much going on with the RS6 Avant GT.

The red, grey and black decals, the chunky white 22-inch wheels, the flared and vented front fenders and the wing over the rear window… all of it is a lot to take in, but it’s very faithful to the IMSA car.

As pictured, the 90 quattro IMSA has the red around the bottom lip of the car, on the bonnet, and even its rear wind, the same as the red on the rear of the Avant GT.

Some of the black at the front of the car, where the bonnet and fenders are, is just exposed carbon-fibre rather than a black decal.

Short of the sponsors and racing numbers, the Avant GT does a fabulous job of paying homage to the 1989 race car. It just means you’re going to be the centre of attention anywhere you drive. Or park.

On that note, an alternative paint and graphic scheme in 'Mythos Black' (this car is 'Arkona White') was available to customers and is decidedly more ‘under the radar’. You have to wonder, though, if you opted for the subtle version of a car that pays homage to a fire-breathing IMSA car, would you feel like you took the coward's option?

Besides, you’re either keeping this car in some kind of temperature-controlled bubble, or (hopefully) spending most of your time around it in the driver’s seat. From there, you don’t have to grapple with the question of garishness.

The interior is, while elevated past standard RS6 vibes, a lot more subtle. Dark materials of microfibre, carbon, leather and the smudge-prone piano black (an Audi favourite) are joined by a relatively restrained serving of red in the contrast stitching and seatbelts.

Here’s where a vehicle like this stands or falls. Because if something like a Tourneo can’t cope with lots of people and their luggage in a single bound, then there’s really not much point to it, is there? I mean you’re not going to buy it for its sporty looks or supercar dynamics, so unless it works brilliantly as family transport, it’s kind of dead in the water. Fortunately Ford seems to have got it right. Mostly, anyway.

That starts up front where the two front seats feel like they’re metres apart. In reality, this huge gap forms a walk-through function for getting access to anything or anyone misbehaving in the second or third row of chairs. But you can’t help wondering what if… What if Ford had ditched the stubby centre console and added a third front-row seat? Wouldn’t a nine-seater be better than eight?

But the seats themselves are comfy and the high-and-mighty driving position gives plenty of vision in every direction. With one exception. And that is when you’re pulling out of a side street on to a main road and need to see what’s coming from the left. Depending on the angle you’re on, the fat frame of the pop-out side window (in the sliding door) becomes a blind spot, especially for taller drivers.

There’s nothing irretrievably wrong with the way the controls are laid out, but they will take some acclimatisation. That goes for the menu system on the touchscreen as well as the column-mounted shifter wand which is about the same size and shape (and in the same place) as a conventional indicator stalk. Tip the lever accidentally and you’ll wind up in neutral, wondering what just happened. The manual-shift mode is also fiddly to use and paddle sifters would be vastly better. Most won’t bother anyway.

The front cabin is home to a shallow lidded bin in the centre console, a deeper bin below that and a couple of charge points. There are also cup-holders in great spots up high in the corner of the dashboard, a shelf across the top of the dashboard and no less than two gloveboxes (the top one is pretty shallow) thanks to moving the passenger’s airbag into the roof lining. Both front doors also feature bins and storage nooks but there’s a fair bit of hard plastic on show, surely a legacy of the Tourneo’s parcel-van DNA.

The Tourneo’s party trick is the way both the second and third rows of seats can be slid to almost any point on a pair of tracks in the floor. The move is simply accomplished via a lever at the front or a rip-cord in the back of the seats, and all three centre-row seats can be moved individually (the third row is split 60:40). The upshot is that you can have all three rows bunched together for a large luggage space, or the rear row pushed right back to form a rear row with huge legroom. Don’t need all eight seats? How about a second row with the two outside chairs in place and the centre one folded forward to expose a work-surface with built-in cupholders.

But it gets even better, because individual seats can be removed to suit the weirdest of loads and the second-row seats even swivel 180-degrees to form a loungeroom on wheels. The kids will be begging you to take them for a drive in this thing.

The seats fold forward, but they don’t tumble. They don’t need to really, and they don’t fold into a bed either. But if you fancy camping in the Tourneo, you can remove both rows of rear seats for a huge flat floor.

The second row is home to storage bins in each sliding door (yes, a door on each side) a pop-put window that opens only about 40mm, temperature controls, air vents and reading lights. The third row, meantime, is not only easily accessed provided the second row isn’t slid all the way back (at which point you wouldn’t be using the third row anyway) but the good news is that the rearmost seat itself is basically three bucket seats with the same comfort levels (high) as the second row. There are also reading lights and a pair of phone pockets and cup-holders in the last row, too. Only the way the track system works and the shape of the seat base means that foot-room is limited to an extent.

With all three rows in place, but pushed as far forward as they can go, there’s a long load area of up to 725mm. But you can also push the second and third rows all the way back and have a cargo area 2622mm long behind the front seats. Maybe the van DNA is a good thing after all.

With all eight seats in place, there’s a minimum of 673 litres of luggage space which can be expanded all the way to a monster 4683 litres with the second and third rows removed.

There’s also a 12-volt power socket and a lighting system in the back, too, although while the side doors are automatic, the tailgate is manual. And you’ll need plenty of real estate to open it, too. Even tall folk will hit the button to open the tailgate, start the strut-assisted opening and then take a step or two back to allow the huge tailgate to rise without clobbering them. An automatic tailgate where you hit the button and run away to a safe distance would be much nicer.

You’ve bought a $400K collectible sports car capable of effortlessly deleting kilometres of highway with your family and enough luggage for a week. Usually a special edition driver's car at this price point is doing well if it has a place to put a phone and a water bottle, let alone phones and water bottles for four people - five if you really need.

Yes, in the performance car world, the Audi RS6 Avant has long been king of the convenience game and the GT holds onto that. 

The seating position and ergonomics remains comfortable, the driver’s seat being manually adjustable means it can sit even lower, there’s decent storage in the door cards, cupholders are able to be hidden, the phone charger is under the armrest, there’s a spot for small items like keys, change or glasses and the rear seats have mostly the same alongside their own individual climate controls and heated seats.

Behind those, a 548-litre boot puts most performance cars to shame, but its 1658L space when the rear seats are folded down is unbelievable for something that you’d want to take to a race circuit.

I’ve been told I’m not allowed to swear in CarsGuide reviews, so add your own expletive when I say, at $399,000, before on-road costs, the RS6 GT is expensive.

A ‘standard’ Audi RS6 Avant Performance costs $252,600, so you would really, really hope that warm feeling you get from owning one of only 22 GTs in the country is worth around $146,400. It’s very hard to imagine the physical changes to the car amount to that much money.

Of course, there’s plenty of kit in the RS6, anyway. But unique to the Avant GT is a carbon bonnet, carbon wing mirrors and carbon front fenders, a restyled spoiler, tailgate, and rear diffuser, 22-inch Audi Sport six-arm ‘Avus’-inspired alloy wheels (in white or black), RS ceramic brakes and black badging.

Inside, there are RS front bucket seats trimmed in leather, synthetic suede and carbon, contrast stitching in red, red seatbelts, black synthetic leather along the dashboard with open-pore carbon, rear window sunshades and a Bang & Olufsen 3D sound system from the 'Sensory Package' as standard.

There’s also ‘RS6 GT’ scuff plates, floor mats, puddle lighting and the individual number for each of the 660 cars on the centre console. 

There’s also manually adjustable coil-over suspension and a GT-specifically-tuned quattro sport differential.

It’s cool, but is it an extra $146K cool?

For the price, you’re almost in Ferrari territory, or you’re ticking some options boxes on your Porsche 911 Carrera T. Suppose neither of those can comfortably take a family of four on a holiday to the snow and even feel safe driving on icy roads, though.

It does happen to be about the same price as the Mercedes-AMG GT63 S 4 Door, though whether that looks as good as the RS6 is debatable.

Because the platform is (mostly) borrowed from the Transit Custom, you get the same driveline. That starts with a 2.0-litre turbo diesel, good for 125kW of power and a useful 390Nm of torque. It drives through a conventional eight-speed automatic transmission and then to the front wheels as a means of keeping the load floor as flat and low as possible.

Ford claims a 2500kg towing capacity with a braked trailer, but on a wet road or damp boat ramp, that’s really going to test the limits of the front wheel’s grip which can be overcome even in the dry if you’re too hasty with the throttle.

The biggest engineering change in the move from Transit Custom to Tourneo has been the switch from leaf springs on the former to coil springs and an independent suspension on the latter. This is all in the name of ride quality and recognises the fact that the Transit will often be called on to cart heavier loads than eight humans.

Audi’s venerable 4.0-litre, twin-turbo V8 engine remains at the heart of the RS6, though in the GT there’s no more power than the RS6 Avant Performance.

That means 463kW of power and 850Nm of torque delivered to all four wheels via an eight-speed torque converter automatic and Audi’s ‘quattro’ all-wheel drive system, making the RS6 Avant GT capable of a 3.3-second sprint to 100km/h, according to Audi. Top speed is a blistering 305km/h.

All this in a car I took to Coles.

Ford quotes an official combined fuel consumption figure of 7.4 litres for the Tourneo. Over a few days of running in a pretty broad mix of urban and country work, we saw an average of 8.6 litres per 100km which is still pretty good for a vehicle of this size.

With the standard 70-litre fuel tank, that gives the Tourneo a theoretical combined range of around 900km between fills, but the real-world number says closer to 800km is more realistic.

Don’t forget, either, that running costs will be a little higher than some diesels, as the Tourneo requires AdBlue at regular intervals, in line with its Euro 6 emissions levels.

Do you care about this section of the review if you’ve bought one? Surely not. 

Anyway, Audi claims 11.8L/100km in terms of fuel consumption and you’d better believe it’s 98 RON minimum. 

It’s got a 72-litre fuel tank, which was depleted rather rapidly on test. While driving conditions weren’t ‘fair’ in terms of the test given the content demands of a short-term loan, there’s probably a realistic figure somewhere between the claim and the 17.9L/100km I achieved over a few days.

If you haven’t driven a one-box van for a decade or more, you’re in for a treat. Just like the Transit Custom on which this car is based, the Tourneo represents a different experience to that of a conventional car or SUV, but one that is not without merit.

For a start, you sit very high which means a great view out across the traffic. And while the driving position is a little less laid-back than a modern car, once you get used to the almost square steering wheel, neither is it the dreaded sit-up-and-beg of older van designs.

The four-cylinder engine doesn’t make the Tourneo a fast vehicle, but it does give it lots of flexibility thanks to all that turbo-torque being available from just off idle. The eight-speed transmission helps, too, but the real surprise is just how quiet the Tourneo is when on a cruising setting. In fact, it’s almost uncanny how such a big, empty metal box could be so silent, but beyond a little tyre noise on coarse surfaces, the Ford pulls it off. As a result, it’s very relaxed and effortless feeling at freeway speeds.

The other surprise is how good the ride quality is. By swapping the cargo van’s leaf rear springs for coils, the Tourneo suddenly displays a very good match between the front and rear axles in terms of how they work to absorb bumps. You do still get some of the front-seat sensation that you’re sitting over the front axle, but it’s not terrible and the reality is that you simply sitting closer to the axle, not right over it.

For many drivers perhaps the over-riding impression will be of the vehicle’s external size. And, yes, it’s a long and wide piece of equipment, but at least the boxy shape means the corners are easy to place and the huge glass area and driver aids like parking sensors and blind-spot warnings help a lot in the daily cut and thrust.

Things are also improved by the fabulously small turning circle of 10.9m kerb-to-kerb (courtesy of the Transit’s role as an inner-city delivery van) that gives an agility the looks don’t suggest. But there’s a sense that the Tourneo is a little wider in the rear track than the front, as you’ll sometimes find the inside rear tyre finding the lips of roundabouts and suburban gutters.

There’s something unfortunate about how good the Audi RS6 Avant GT is from behind the wheel. That’s knowing how few people will properly get to enjoy it.

Not just because only 660 were built, but also because the majority of those 660 owners will be too worried about how much they’ve just spent on an automotive rarity to properly take it for a burn on a road, or even a track.

The RS6 was always an icon of Germany's penchant for subtle-looking cars that just happen to be capable of embarrassing much more brash vehicles, but the GT does away with the pretence and sharpens its teeth a little.

The specifically tuned rear differential makes for a more rear-biased driving experience in Dynamic mode, which means more agile cornering and a more natural balance compared to the way the RS6 sometimes feels - like a family wagon.

Its rival, the BMW M5 Touring, can go full rear-drive, but the Audi doesn’t need that as an option. It feels more capable and composed; ready to obey commands without fuss. A set of Continental SportContact 7 tyres (285/30) help there on the grip front.

The suspension underneath, adjustable coil-overs with three settings, is unique to the GT and lowers the ride height by 10 millimeters. It’s stiffer, 30 per cent at the front and 80 at the rear, and you notice it.

There’s more control and much less body roll, but the trade-off is the RS6 Avant GT is a little less comfortable on Australia’s particularly rough roads. Its 22-inch wheels don’t help.

It’s not, however, crashy or rattly. The suspension still does a fine job of stopping the driver being jostled around, but there’s a decidedly firmer response to the surface underneath. Again, still very composed.

With the new suspension, steering the GT feels easier than memory would suggest and the baseline was already good. There’s no unnecessary weight, but there’s still decent feedback from the front wheels and accuracy is bang-on.

Throttle adjustment in the corners, too, is easier with the rear differential, and it means anyone who still had reservations about Audi and understeer can be proven wrong.

The drivetrain remains unchanged from the Performance, which is a good thing. The effortless acceleration, even in the more aggressive 'Dynamic' setting with the transmission set to 'Sport' is smooth but seemingly unending.

Fortunately, the 4.0-litre V8 under the carbon bonnet sounds delightfully burbly, so getting to the speed limit or overtaking is a little treat every time. While the steering wheel paddles are there if you really need to drive in anger, the eight-speed is fine left to its own devices.

A 2.0-tonne family wagon with a V8 up front, easy communicative steering, and sporty suspension that settles well over bumps but allows enthusiastic corner attacks?

The RS6 Avant GT is in limited company.

There’s no current rating from ANCAP for the A6 in general, let alone this specific RS6, but there’s a decent suite of safety equipment and tech to keep you worry-free in the GT.

Eight airbags and more than 30 driver assistance systems from the RS6 are of course present in the GT, including adaptive cruise control, lane-keep and warning, emergency brake assist and cross-traffic alert.

Audi’s also got surround view cameras for parking, which also includes warnings for approaching vehicles or objects, plus there are preemptive measures the car can take in an impact like tightening the seatbelts or braking to avoid a second collision.

The second row also has three top tethers and ISOFIX anchor points on the outboard seats for mounting child seats. 

Ford offers its standard five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty on the Tourneo. Five years is fair enough, but can’t match the seven years or even more that some of the competition offer. It‘s worth noting, however, that the warranty does match many of the makes and models that will be the Ford’s natural enemies.

Service intervals are 12 months or a very long 30,000km, but it’s unlikely many families will clock up 30,000km in a 12-month period, anyway. There’s no word on capped-price servicing yet, but the mechanically similar Transit Custom has a service plan that limits the cost of each of the first four services to around $500.

The biggest additional running cost for the Tourneo will be the AdBlue additive to control emissions. How frequently you need to top up will be determined by what type of driving you do.

Audi’s five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty is below industry par, though most premium brands are in the same boat.

Twelve years of bodywork warranty against corrosion is also included, as is a five-year run of free Audi roadside assistance.

Five-year service plans can be purchased, or customers can buy back-to-back two-year extensions for the warranty, servicing and roadside assistance.