Ford Tourneo Custom vs LDV Deliver 7

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.

For a van that is going to be heavily loaded most of its life, the diesel Deliver 7 offers a strong value proposition with snazzy exterior design and passenger car-like interior tech. 

As a fleet-oriented vehicle, that ANCAP sticker of approval, non-slip flooring and ergonomic seats will please the health and safety officers, too.

It's a shame, then, that LDV couldn't match the reasonable refinement and ride quality offered by the electric eDeliver 7. Where that van feels competitive with rivals, the diesel Deliver 7’s budget bones add up to a bouncy, unrefined and bonging safety aid-filled driving experience.

The diesel Deliver 7 is a decent enough workhorse but it’s hard to recommend saving the money over its more refined competitor set. 

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.

The van segment has evolved to the point where a box on wheels is no longer enough to grab attention and we can thank the Hyundai Staria for that. 

The Deliver 7 conforms to new norms adopting the exact same fascia as its eDeliver 7 that certainly stands out, though the doily pattern may trigger trypophobics. Sharp LED lighting and classic van proportions finish things off. 

The Deliver 7 rides on 16-inch steel wheels with hubcaps and 215/65R16C GitiVan 600B tyres. An upgrade to alloy wheels is offered, too.

Inside there are pleasant materials in some places, such as the soft synthetic leather door tops perfect for resting your elbow. There is some upmarket chic to the cabin but it’s eye candy only, as the blue faux stitching panel is all hard, scratchy plastic. Still, that’s the hard-wearing vibe of most in this segment.

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.

When it comes to exterior size, the LDV Deliver 7 sits between the smaller Hyundai Staria load SWB and larger Toyota HiAce LWB. It is only available in low-roof guise but the Deliver 7’s generous width is its party trick, measuring 2118mm from flank to flank. 

The Deliver 7’s load area is 2547mm long (or 2913mm in the LWB), 1800mm wide (pinched to 1390mm between the arches) and 1428mm tall for a total of 6.3 cubic metres of load space. There are six heavy-duty tie-down loops to secure cargo. 

Adding to practicality are standard barn doors which are handy in low car parks and make loading pallets — the Deliver 7 will easily fit two Australian or Euro palettes inside — simple.

They can be opened to 90 degrees where they lock, or all the way to 180 degrees. There is no lock when fully extended, though, so they can blow closed on windy days. We’d also appreciate seeing a second sliding side door as an option. 

The Deliver 7’s star factor is payload, in fact it’s clear of all the listed rivals above by a reasonable margin. The Deliver 7’s 2105kg kerb weight and 3400kg GVM mean drivers can carry up to 1290kg of cargo in the back. It is also capable of towing a 2000kg braked, or 750kg unbraked, trailer load. 

Oddly, for its impressive carrying capacity, the Deliver 7 is not equipped with a bulkhead. It is also a strict two-seater without a centre bench for a third occupant. 

The trade off here is that the Deliver 7 has supportive car-like bucket seats with adjustable arm rests. The upholstery is cloth that feels hard wearing and the seats slide forwards and backwards, have height and tilt adjust along with manual lumbar to keep you fresh after a few hours behind the small diameter leather-appointed steering wheel.

Moving to a stalk-style shifter frees up the Deliver 7’s centre console for added incidental storage, with handy spots for tape measures, keys, invoices and four cupholders easily accessible.

Hidden storage is a little limited, with a small-ish glove box and ashtray the extent of the cubbies. 

And while the Deliver 7’s technology suite looks good on the surface, it is not particularly responsive and many heavy-use functions are restricted to the screen.

For example, the headlight controls are on the main menu and they do not automatically switch off when you turn the Deliver 7 off using its push-button start system unless they’re in auto mode and, instead of just turning a stalk to silence beeping, you have to reboot the car. 

The eating and ventilation controls are a mix of digital and physical though the row of switches is an awfully long way from the driver’s seat. The scroll wheels to adjust fan speed and temperature have very fine stops making it difficult to be accurate on the move. 

The touchscreen’s menus are otherwise straightforward enough, though it is a shame Apple CarPlay and Android Auto phone mirroring has to run through a cable attached to only one of the three USB-A and USB-C charge ports scattered about the interior.

The LDV Deliver 7 is essentially a rebadged version of SAIC Motor's Maxus V70 sold in China and arrives in Australia as a simple proposition. Short or long wheelbase is your only choice, with a single sliding door and rear barn doors as standard.

The range simplicity makes LDV importer Ateco’s life easier, meaning the price is sharp. The Deliver 7 short wheelbase we have on test is normally $44,726, drive-away, but if you hold an ABN (as almost every van buyer does) it’s yours for $42,490 on the road. 

Admittedly, the gap between LDV’s offering and established names has closed since the G10, however, it’s still about $10,000 cheaper than rivals once you factor in on-road costs.

For reference, the Toyota HiAce LWB is $51,636, the Hyundai Staria Load Twin Swing $50,640 and Ford Transit Custom SWB Trend starts at $56,590, with all those prices before on-road costs. 

And there’s good reason the Deliver 7 has come upmarket; plenty of whizz-bang technology inside. A generous 12.3-inch central multimedia touchscreen, decent sound system, sizeable digital information screen, LED head and tail-lights, electronic park brake, keyless entry with proximity key and rain-sensing wipers should give the LDV a leg up in the showroom. 

Health and safety officer-pleasing features such as a bright LED light in the load bay and rubber flooring (which is less grippy than its ‘non-slip’ name would have you believe), high definition reversing camera and parking sensors at both ends also come standard.

For an extra $1500, you can upgrade to 16-inch alloy wheels and pick up a 360-degree camera. Dual sliding doors are part of that pack, too. 

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.

There is nothing special about the Deliver 7's carryover 2.0-litre turbo-diesel four-cylinder that produces peak power and torque of 123kW and 390Nm.

The Deliver 7's engine iscompliant with Euro 5 standards and emits 203 grams of CO2 per kilometre. It is equipped with a diesel particulate filter (DPF), though no AdBlue tank. 

It is noisy and vibey in this application but provides adequate motivation unladen and loaded, feeling especially punchy between 2200-3000rpm. 

The LDV Deliver 7 is front-wheel drive and uses a nine-speed ZF-sourced torque converter automatic that shifts smoothly. There are three drive modes: 'Eco', 'Normal' and 'Power'. 

Annoyingly, the Deliver 7’s transmission is calibrated to shift into the highest gear as soon as possible, sometimes leaving you without enough grunt to accelerate without kicking down.

It is also slow to downshift under braking, meaning you need to lean on the brakes harder when carrying a heavy load. There are tactile shift paddles behind the wheel to encourage a downshift if you need, though.

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.

The combined (urban/extra-urban) ADR fuel cycle efficiency for the LDV Deliver 7 is a respectable 7.7L/100km. Our 200km loop including rural, urban and motorway driving saw it return 8.5L/100km at an average speed of 45km/h.

In urban and suburban driving, we saw 10L/100km aided by the engine start-stop system. 

There is a large 80-litre fuel tank that would see driving ranges in excess of 1000km in favourable conditions, with 800km still likely on urban delivery runs.

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.

The Deliver 7 is effectively the same configuration as its electric sibling, using struts with coil springs up front and a leaf-sprung beam axle at the back. Standard stuff for a heavy duty van. 

The front and rear disc brakes have a nice solid pedal feel with well calibrated ABS and the Deliver 7 is generally safe and fairly secure on the road-holding front. 

Unfortunately, the suspension set-up of LDV’s diesel van is significantly worse than the rather refined electric model. Unladen, the Deliver 7’s ride quality is atrocious, bordering on unacceptable. 

Over speed bumps, the rear end bucks and shimmies as the van’s dampers fail to control the heavy duty leaf springs. There were several instances when the Deliver 7 was so uncontrolled my backside lost contact with the seat cushion.

As Deliver 7s are likely to spend most of their life loaded up, we headed to BC Sands in Taren Point which happily put 600kg worth of builders sand in the back. The rear ride height dropped 20mm with the load onboard.

With the weight onboard the Deliver 7’s ride settled on rippled tarmac and the bouncing was less abrupt coming off speed humps.

However, the 3.3-turn lock-to-lock steering became light and ponderous and the ride still lacks finesse. A previous-gen Toyota HiAce rides better. 

Visibility is another Deliver 7 struggle. A solid-walled van will always be compromised but with the seat in a comfortable position for me, at 188cm, my head was in line with the B-pillar.

The big mirrors couldn’t be adjusted far enough out for my driving position, either, leaving plenty of blind-spot (lucky there’s a safety system for that!). The A-pillars are thick and pushed forward, impacting visibility at junctions and roundabouts.

The LDV Deliver 7 achieved a gold star rating in ANCAP’s light duty van testing in 2024 thanks to six airbags and a long list of driver assist features. 

Due to the poor outward visibility, you need the assistance which includes auto emergency braking (AEB), driver attention monitoring, lane-keep assist, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic alert, speed sign assist and tyre pressure monitoring. 

Aside from the very helpful blind-spot monitoring, the Deliver 7’s other features feel more like a box-ticking exercise than genuinely helpful aids. You can turn the ones you don’t like off in about four taps on the central touchscreen. 

I encountered two instances of false positive AEB intervention; regular misinformation and beeping from the speed sign detection; constant tugging from the emergency lane-keep assist even in its most forgiving setting and, at one point, the driver attention monitoring scalded me for smoking a (non-existent) cigarette.

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.

The LDV Deliver 7 is backed by a competitive seven-year/200,000km warranty, however LDV does not publish fixed-price servicing.

After purchase, the Deliver 7 needs maintenance after six months or 5000km at a cost of $344, with subsequent intervals yearly or at 20,000km, whichever comes first. 

Australian importer Ateco was able to give us a guide for three years of servicing at $2644 though this will vary depending on labour rates, rate of consumable use and other factors depending on the dealer. 

Toyota caps HiAce servicing at $1740 for the same period and gives a clearer indication of pricing beyond the three-year mark, which may help you budget into the future.