Ford Tourneo Custom vs Renault Master

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.

If you’re after a budget-conscious offering in the large van segment, the Renault Master could be a really solid proposition. It falls short of the safety expectations set by its newer rival, though, and that’s something you might not be able to put a price on.

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 front-end styling of the Master has been modernised with a “robust” new look which sees it adopt a more upright nose with a bulkier grille, squared-off headlights (with LED daytime running lights as standard, along with halogen headlights).

There were no other changes made to the exterior, so if you see it side on or from the rear, you’d be hard pressed to tell if it's the new model.

This is the second facelift for this generation (X62) Master, which originated back in 2010. It is also offered in some markets as a Nissan, Opel, and Vauxhall. And this version certainly freshens up the appearance, though the practicality of the Master line-up remains unchanged.

That’s a good thing: you can still get the van as a short-wheelbase with low roof (L1H1), a mid-wheelbase with mid roof (L2H2), a long-wheelbase with mid roof (L3H2), or an extra-long-wheelbase with high roof (L4H3). There’s also the choice of a single cab-chassis Platform ute model, too. 

Our test model is the L2H2, meaning dimensions of 5575mm long on a lengthy 3682mm wheelbase (giving it a 13.6-metre turning circle), while the width is 2070mm and the height is 2499mm. Too tall for car parks (and drive-thru windows, in this age of social distancing). 

The good news about the height, though, is that it allows you excellent interior dimensions. The cargo hold of this version is 3083mm long, 1765mm wide (and 1380mm between the wheel-arches, enough for Aussie pallets to slide in easily), and the height is 1894mm inside. I’m six-foot tall (1820mm) and that meant I could safely step in and out of the cargo zone without fear of hitting my head. The load space is 10.8 cubic metres in this spec. 

As you’ll see in the interior section, the cabin has been given a bit of attention too - you can see it in the images below.

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.

Like all vans in this segment there are some cabin smarts that will make your life a lot easier if you spend a lot of time in the cockpit.

There are storage options aplenty, including overhead folder holders, a trio of dash-top storage caddies, dash-top cup holders, huge door pockets with bottle holders, some smaller storage cubbies near the shifter, and a glovebox that is, in the French tradition, good to hold a pair of gloves and not much else. This model had the dual passenger bench seat, with a hidden storage section underneath, and you can fold the middle seat down to form a desk platform with cup holders if that’s what you need.

Along with the storage smarts, the updated Master has seen some major changes in terms of infotainment intelligence, too. The new 7.0-inch MediaNav touchscreen system with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto is a welcome advancement for the brand, and during my time in the vehicle it proved simple to use and quick to react. The sound isn’t terrific, with just two speakers fitted, and I had to turn it up pretty loud to overcome the wind noise from this mid-roof model.

The driver’s seat is comfortable and offers decent adjustment, with height and lumbar adjustment. It’s easy to step up into the cab, too, despite there not being side grab handles. The driver also gets a new digital instrument display section on the redesigned dashboard, which includes a gear-shift indicator (but not a gear position indicator), and a digital speedometer and trip computer.

The steering wheel is new, too, and it’s much nicer than the old grainy plastic number in the pre-facelift version. Gone are the round vents across the dash and round plastic sections of the old model - now there are squared-off, more modern looking finishes that clearly aim to mimic the exterior’s now boxy-edged body.

In the cargo zone there are multiple tie-down hooks (eight on the floor, four on the side wall pillars), making for plenty of options to secure a load - though as can often be found with these eye-hook points, they can be a little too far inboard to make good use of, and in the Master’s case, there are no tie-down points rear of the wheel-arches. There is a 12-volt outlet in the back pillar, however.

The 2020 update for the Renault Master saw prices adjusted to compensate for additional standard equipment now offered range wide.

You can read the full pricing and specs breakdown story here, but the standard goodies for the Master include: a new 7.0-inch touchscreen media system with USB input, Bluetooth, Apple CarPlay, Android Auto, sat nav and reversing camera display, a two-speaker sound system, rear parking sensors, 16-inch steel wheels with a full size spare fitted under the rear body, body-protective cladding, twin-view side mirrors with electric adjustment, electric windows, cruise control, air conditioning, remote central locking, halogen headlights, LED daytime running lights, and rear fog lights. 

The list price for the L2H2 mid-wheelbase manual model used in this review is $47,490 plus on-road costs (RRP or MSRP), but Renault is advertising this exact spec for $47,990 drive-away, which is pretty compelling - you don’t even need to be an ABN holder for that discount. 

The Master MWB van comes as standard with barn doors at the rear (270-degree opening), and a sliding side door on kerb side (left), while SWB models get 180-degree barn doors. It also features a steel bulkhead as standard, as well as a three-seat layout up front. There’s a handy lift-up base on the bench part of the seat, which allows you about 100 litres of hidden storage if you need it.

There are numerous options for buyers to customise their van to suit what they need. There are several packs to choose from, such as: the Trade Pack - wooden floor, full height timber wall lining, rear step, LED ceiling lights ($1600); the Business Pack - front fog lights, hands-free key card and push-button start, chrome exterior and interior trim finishes ($1000); and the Convenience Pack - auto high/low beam lights, lane departure warning, blind spot monitoring and front parking sensors ($1000).

You can option individual elements such as a driver’s side sliding door ($800), a driver’s suspension seat ($800 - removes the side airbag for the driver), a single passenger seat ($200 - N/A with driver suspension seat, adds passenger-side airbag protection), and if you choose RWD model there’s an available differential lock ($1000). Last but not least, you can have glazed dual sliding doors for $800, but only if you also option the Trade Pack.

Colour options include no-cost solid paint finishes in white, grey, dark blue, light blue, yellow, orange and red (the interesting colours will need to be pre-ordered). There are also three metallic paint options in grey, black or a silver/blue look, and the cost there is $1000.

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 power outputs and torque figures depend on the transmission you choose. 

Despite the fact that both manual and automatic versions of the Master run a 2.3-litre four-cylinder diesel engine, there’s a difference between the engines: the version with the six-speed manual transmission is a twin-turbo unit, while the six-speed automated manual transmission makes use of a single-turbo diesel.

There’s not much in it when it comes to the difference in outputs, however.

The manual version has a slight horsepower advantage, with 120kW of power (at 3500rpm) and 360Nm of torque (at 1500rpm).

The automated manual has a maximum power of 110kW (at 3500rpm) and 350Nm of torque (at 1500rpm).

Both transmissions are geared the same across all six ratios, though from experience, the automated manual is best left at the showroom. While rivals offer conventional torque converter automatic gearboxes to appeal to a broader customer base globally, the French brand persists with its pernickety somewhat-auto option instead.

The majority of models in the Master range are front-wheel drive (FWD), but there are a couple of long-wheelbase rear-wheel drive (RWD) models available. None are all-wheel drive (AWD) or four-wheel drive (4WD).

You might be interested to note the weight specs for the Master range. There are too many variables to bore you with here, but the details on the L2H2 mid-wheelbase manual I tested, according to Renault Australia, are as follows: kerb weight - 1887kg; gross vehicle mass/GVM - 3510kg; payload - 1623kg; towing capacity - 750kg un-braked, 2500kg braked. The gross combination mass (GCM) is 6000kg.

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.

There is no official combined fuel consumption claim figure stated by Renault, as the vehicle falls into the heavy commercial vehicle space. 

But I can tell you it’s pretty impressive for fuel economy. I saw an average of just 8.5 litres per 100 kilometres over more than 1000km of testing - more than half of which was with the van loaded up with hundreds of kilograms of load.

With a 100-litre diesel tank, you could theoretically get about 1150km to a fill, and that’s with a mix of loaded and unloaded driving. 

One thing, though: most vehicles have a graphic on their dashboard to show which side the filler neck is - you know, you see a fuel bowser and the filler is on the right, that means your vehicle’s filler is on the right. Not in the Master. It has a graphic with the filler on the right, but the actual fuel cap is on the left. And like most vans, you have to open the passenger door to fuel up.

Worried about AdBlue? No need - the engine used in the Master range is a Euro 5 unit, so there is a diesel particulate filter, but no urea after treatment setup to mention.

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.

I did a mix of driving in the Master over the week I had it, including more than 600km of unladen driving. 

Why so many kays? I used it to move house, which meant I completed two “full” trips between Sydney’s inner-west and Cowra in the Central West of NSW, and two “empty” trips back to Sydney, as well.

I’ll get to how it drove with a load on board in the section below, but the unladen experience was pretty positive.

The engine and transmission are well teamed, and there’s a good amount of usable torque and very little lag to speak of. 

As with this entire generation of engines - a derivative engine in a different state of tune is used in the Nissan Navara - the refinement is mostly good until you reach higher in the rev range, where it can get a bit noisy and clattery. But the best work is done down low in the rev zone anyway. 

The manual shift action isn’t what I’d call “slinky”, more “clicky”. But it’s easy to row between gears as the action is light and the clutch isn’t too heavy, either. The gearing is generous, meaning you can saunter in sixth gear around 70km/h without the engine labouring too hard, and it’ll accelerate from there to freeway pace - provided you’re not going uphill.

There is a bit of ratio management required if you encounter a steep incline, but generally it’s a decently strong powertrain for its intended use - more on that below.

I’m always astounded about the steering and ride characteristics of vans of this size. Yes, it’s large, and yes, it can get blown around a little by crosswinds, and yes, you need to factor in the longish-wheelbase and larger turning circle that results from that… but it drives a lot smaller than it is.

The steering is direct and accurate, easy to judge at high or low speeds - which is great news when you’re parking (and there’s a good quality reversing camera and rear parking sensors, but you’ve just gotta remember the roof height, too).

The ride is adequate without a load on board, too. The independent McPherson strut front suspension copes well with changes in surface and bump control, though it can be a little bouncy at times. The rear suspension is a leaf-spring torsion beam setup, and it can be a little clumsy over road joins when unladen. 

It also brakes well, with solid and trustworthy response from the four-wheel disc brakes at all speeds.

While there has been a safety revolution in the van segment in recent years led by Mercedes and VW, Renault has been left behind to a degree.

The Renault Master has never been put through NCAP or ANCAP crash testing. So there’s no safety star rating to speak of.

And it falls short of its chief rivals, as it doesn’t have any sort of auto emergency braking (AEB) or forward collision warning system at all. 

It has a reversing camera and rear parking sensors, plus dual front airbags and driver’s side airbag protection (not passenger though?), and there are no curtain airbags either. But it has electronic stability control (ESC), electronic brake force distribution, and hill start assist with Renault’s Grip X-tend system that is designed to allow better traction in slippery situations.

You can option some safety technology into the manual versions of the Master, by way of the Convenience Pack. For $1000 it adds auto high/low beam lights, lane departure warning (not active lane keeping assist), blind spot warning (not rear cross-traffic alert), and front parking sensors.

I understand the argument that buyers shouldn’t have to pay for anything they don’t need, especially when it comes to business vehicles. But I hope that behind closed doors Renault is working furiously to improve the safety equipment offering as a matter of priority.

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 Renault van range is covered by a warranty plan that isn’t as good as you’ll get from VW or Ford. That is, the Master (and Trafic and Kangoo below it) have a three-year/unlimited kilometre warranty cover, which is two years shorter than the best in the class.

Service intervals are business-friendly at 12 months/30,000km, with a capped-price service plan spanning the first three years/90,000km. The service price is $599 per visit, but keep in mind you will need to replace the coolant ($132) and brake fluid ($79) every 60,000km. There’s also an accessory belt replacement at 90,000km ($506).

If you service your van at Renault, you’ll also be eligible for up to four years of roadside assistance cover. From the showroom floor there is 12 months cover.

Concerned about issues, problems, recalls, questions, queries, complaints, or reliability issues? Check out our Renault Master problems page.