Ford Tourneo Custom vs Lexus LS

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.

The LS500 is the least logical version of the most logical option in the ultimate luxury sedan segment in which logic doesn’t often apply at all. 

Take from that what you will, but if it was me being driven around I would definitely be opting for the hybrid version of the LS instead for its smooth electrified driving characteristics and lower operating costs.

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 distinctive but conservative style of Lexus is on full show across the LS’s massive frame. Like other cars in its class, it’s very much the image of the brand itself with styling points strong, but to me not as impressive as the LC500, which is a definitive expression of the brand.

The LS also has many styling points of the previous-generation Lexus design language which are in the process of being phased out.

The car was only updated last year, bringing with it a more recent interpretation of the brand’s big spindle grille, pointy headlight profile, and angular but traditional rear.

The LS - even in this Sports Luxury guise - does look quite menacing from certain angles. The width and stance of this car is accentuated by its curvaceous rear guards and big square front bumper, with the elegance of a classic three-box sedan maintained in a side profile.

The chrome wheel finish is a bit much for my taste, but there’s no doubt they’re real show pieces. They’d better be, too, because I hear they are incredibly expensive should you need to replace one.

The inside has highs and lows but it’s the place where you can most tell the LS has been on sale for a while.

I love the plush seats, big screen, integrated analogue clock and three-dimensional door card design, which sell the flagship luxury feel.

But this car’s age is on show with its clunky and much maligned 'Remote Touch' pad controller (which Lexus is at long last phasing out in its new cars), last-generation software suite, and its small, crowded instrument cluster.

There are a whopping nine interior trim combinations to choose from and ours has the most recently added black leather and ‘Nishijin Haku’ themed highlights which are meant to be inspired by the way "moonlight sits on an open sea".

The feel is a bit '90s, a rough textured fabric with a silver detailing and elements clad in a thin platinum foil, making you feel like you’re in a classic high-class Japanese taxi.

But I’ll admit it plays well with the ambient lighting effect in the doors, and is a unique selling point compared to the standard leather finish.

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.

For passengers, as you’d expect, the LS is stellar. The massive outboard rear seats offer plenty of room, and are complete with reclining, message, and cooling functions.

Adjustable vents feature, with quad-zone climate, and the screens come with individual headphone jacks and HDMI-in so you can bring with you all sorts of entertainment options for those longer journeys.

Other suitable additions worth noting include the wine cooler (although it’s a bit small for anything other than minibar-sized beverages, hardly the 007 trope of rolling out a full-size bottle of Bollinger), flip-down mirror with a light in the roof, and the touch panel controls in the armrest. I also appreciate the built-in sunshades. Nice touch.

Less impressive is the general vibe of the middle seat. With a large raised centre split in the floor and such wide and lavish outboard seats, the middle seat feels a bit forgotten.

Up front, the practicality offering includes a high level of adjustability for the seats to suit a wide range of driving positions, electrical adjust even for the steering column, and a nice wide seat which you simply sink into.

Of course, soft finishes adorn even unseen parts of the cabin so you’ll never touch a nasty hard plastic, and there are large storage areas in both the doors and centre console box.

This big armrest console also hides the USB connectivity within, and there’s a set of big cup holders with a flip-away lid if you want the wood grain design uninterrupted when they are not in use.

I have to mention the useless touchpad controller here, but hand the brand props for offering a collection of climate shortcut buttons on the dash, an actual volume knob, and truth be told you don’t need the touchpad anyway because the screen is touch. Just be ready for the matching last-generation software, which isn’t the best to use or navigate.

The boot has a volume of 440 litres which sounds plentiful, but the actual use of it is a reminder of one of the reasons SUVs are so popular.

Yes, it’s big and reasonably deep, but putting the largest CarsGuide case in there proved a bit clumsy as you have to lift it over the tall rear bumper and it only just clears the top of the relatively small opening.

I love sedans, but this is one area where you can see the benefit of a hatch opening, particularly if you were frequently doing the airport run.

The Lexus LS is it, the flagship sedan in the Japanese premium outfit’s line-up. It’s available in two trim levels, either the borderline aggressive F-Sport or plush Sports Luxury.

It’s also available with two drivetrain choices, with no price difference between them. The F-Sport starts from $195,953, before on-roads, while the one we’re testing here, the Sport Luxury starts from $201,078.

This pricing is below par for big luxury sedans designed to be ridden in rather than driven, making it a relatively good-value proposition straight out of the gate.

The entry-level Mercedes-Benz S-Class (the S450) starts from $243,890, the single version of the BMW 7 Series (740i M Sport) starts from $268,900, leaving only the Audi A8 (50TDI) even close when it comes to pricing, which starts from $202,700. We don’t get its Korean rival, the Genesis G90 in Australia yet.

‘Value’ or not, the LS has its work cut out for it, as this particular corner of the executive transport marketplace is probably more about badge cred than it is logic, and the 500 Sports Luxury is at a further disadvantage, as it doesn’t offer the Lexus unique selling point, a silky smooth hybrid system.

Ask yourself, when it comes down to it, if money was no object would you rather have a Grand Seiko or a Rolex?

Again, logic doesn’t apply, but the Lexus does offer pretty much everything buyers in this class should be after.

Inclusions on every LS are 20-inch alloy wheels, adaptive LED headlights, 12.3-inch multimedia touchscreen with Apple CarPlay, Android Auto, and built-in navigation, a 23-speaker Mark Levinson branded audio system, climate control with interesting ‘infra-red body temperature sensors’, heated and cooled front seats with 28-way power adjust, a heated steering wheel, full four-door keyless entry with push-button start, ambient interior lighting, a panoramic view camera, electric motion-sensing boot, radar cruise, and connected services.

Just to remind you this Sport Luxury grade is the one to be driven in, not drive yourself, unlike the F-Sport alternative it scores dual 11.6-inch rear seat entertainment touch panels with HDMI input, full quad-zone climate, power reclining for the rear outboard seats with message functions, a drop-down armrest console with a climate control panel, electric sunshades for the rear three windows, a cooler box, seat ventilation, and two additional airbags for the rear seats. Proper plush. Wish it came with a driver, too.

Things you miss out on for picking this one? Not much, the F-Sport scores a more aggressive dash, an 'LFA-Style' cluster, bolstered front seats, sport steering wheel, variable gear ratio steering with rear steering, high performance brakes, and active stabilisers.

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.

The LS500 packs a 3.4-litre twin-turbocharged V6 petrol engine with impressive peak outputs of 310kW/600Nm.

This engine is designed to replace a V8 in terms of its power and feel, and in a lot of ways it does.

It might surprise you to learn the only other place you’ll see this engine used in Australia is the Toyota LandCruiser 300 Series.

The alternative present in the LS500h is a hybrid version of the same engine, sans the turbos.

With its electric assistance, power outputs are lower than this turbo version, but get close with a combined total of 264kW.

While I like the walloping nature of the turbocharged V6 we drove, I think the hybrid is a no-brainer choice for reasons explained in the driving segment.

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.

Given the angry sounds emanating from under the bonnet of this LS every time I put my foot on the accelerator, I was surprised to find overall fuel consumption for the week was surprisingly good.

I used the LS to drive mostly around town, and yet it beat its own urban claim of 14.2L/100km, settling at 12.9L.100km, closer to the combined fuel figure of 10L/100km.

The hybrid is said to nearly halve this consumption, and I’m inclined to believe it based on previous experience with Toyota/Lexus hybrid systems. 

The LS500 requires at least 95RON unleaded fuel and has an 82-litre fuel tank. That means you're looking at a range of around 635km, using our real-world figure.

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.

For a seemingly very sophisticated car, there’s something decidedly unsophisticated about the way the LS500 feels from behind the wheel.

Immediately, it feels nowhere near as cutting edge or even as special as something like the LC500, which to me becomes the truest expression of everything Lexus.

No, the LS500 in this turbo V6 guise feels a little bit too old-fashioned. It’s quiet and under acceleration feels like a V8 of just a few years ago, but the Aisin-sourced traditional torque converter automatic transmission is, dare I say, ordinary, lacking the finesse of its German rivals. It’s a problem which is easily solved. Pick the hybrid.

Elsewhere the experience is decidedly Lexus. If you’ve driven even an IS the experience is very familiar in the LS. The touchpoints all match, the steering is light and smooth with a healthy serve of electrical assistance, and, for the most part, the ride is as floaty and comfortable as you’d expect.

I say ‘for the most part’ because there are limits to what the LS’s adjustable-height air suspension will filter out on the enormous 20-inch wheels, complete with run-flat tyres.

Small bumps and potholes are dispatched with ease. Anything too large which passes a certain thud-factor will definitely be communicated to the cabin, though, making for a strange all-or-nothing ride quality.

It is impeccably silent inside, though. The engine is distant, even under load, and tyre noise is virtually non-existent thanks to specially designed alloy wheels with hollow chambers designed to minimise this effect. Now that’s more like what I expect from a Lexus.

It handles very well for such a big unit, making it at least decent to drive for the few buyers who will actually take the helm themselves.

This is no land yacht, it’s a surprisingly agile and adept machine when faced with a bit of blacktop. And it's here where the turbocharged V6 comes into its own compared to the hybrid, offering superior driver engagement.

This Sports Luxury version of the LS500 has everything and then some. The usual key highlights are included: high-speed radar based auto emergency braking with pedestrian and cyclist detection as well as intersection assist and fully adaptive cruise control, lane keep assist with lane departure warning, blind spot monitoring with rear cross traffic alert, rear auto braking, traffic sign assist, adaptive headlights, and a panoramic parking camera.

Specific to the Sports Luxury is two additional rear airbags for a total of 12. Despite this thorough suite of equipment, the LS has not been tested by ANCAP.

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.

Lexus offers a five-year and unlimited kilometre warranty, and LX buyers get three years of complimentary membership to the brand’s ‘Encore Platinum’ owner experience, which includes three years of capped price servicing, free loan cars at the time of service, invites to events, discounts on fuel at Ampol outlets, and four uses of ‘Lexus On Demand’ which lets owners swap into another Lexus model for up to eight days at a time, as well as eight free uses of valet parking at certain locations.

Servicing on the LS occurs once every 12 months or 15,000km and is fixed for the first three years at $595. Very cheap for the space it plays in.