What's the difference?
This idea hasn’t always worked out too well. Take a parcel-van (in this case the Ford Transit Custom) strip out the rubber matting and cargo barrier and bolt six or seven seats into what was the load area. Sure, the original vehicle to use this concept, the Volkswagen Kombi way back in the 1950s, got away with it, possibly because there wasn’t anything better around.
Ford has plenty of history with this notion, too. The first Transit of 1965 was also available as a mini-bus, but worked okay because the Transit itself was such a car-like departure from the commercial-vehicle norm.
Things didn’t go so well for Ford in the early 1980s, however, when the Econovan-badged parcel van it shared with Mazda (the E2200) was fitted with eight seats, given some fuzzy velour trim and dubbed the Spectron. And it was dreadful. In fact, so bad, that it made the contemporaneous Mitsubishi Nimbus and the even more forgettable Nissan Prairie seem like vastly superior alternatives to the job of moving people. Only because they were.
Early versions of the Spectron retained the Econovan’s crude suspension, wheezy (and fragile) little engines and even the tiny dual rear wheels that entirely deprived the vehicle of any traction. In fact, dreadful doesn’t even cover it.
So you can see why Ford might be a bit antsy about me referring to the new Tourneo (a badge that has been around in Europe for decades) as a Transit Custom with extra seats and windows. Yet that kind of sums it up (up to a point, anyway). Luckily, the Transit Custom itself is a pretty sorted thing these days, so maybe Ford has nothing to worry about. Maybe…
So, you’ve seen the mainstream mid-size SUV players, and you’re looking for something… a little different.
Maybe you’re even looking for something with some off-road ability, and that’s maybe caused you to steer away from segment heavyweights like the Hyundai Tucson, Toyota RAV4, or Mazda CX-5.
Am I right so far? Maybe you’re just curious to find out what one of Jeep’s main models offers in 2020. Either way, I spent a week in this top-spec Trailhawk to find out if it’s the semi-off-roader it looks to be, or if it stands a chance against the mainstream players.
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 Cherokee is perhaps not going to tempt anyone set on a mainstream mid-size family SUV. But, to those on the periphery who are genuinely looking for something different, there’s a lot on offer here.
The proposition is boosted by the Cherokee’s unique off-road equipment and compelling price tag, but just keep in mind it’s old-fashioned in more than just one way…
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.
Part of me wants to like the Cherokee. It’s a refreshingly modern take on the mid-size formula from Jeep. There’s another part of me which thinks it’s a bit soft around the edges with a little too much influence from the likes of the last-generation RAV4, especially around the rear. A smaller, heavily opinionated, part of me says it looks like the kind of car the Hamburgler would drive.
But you can’t deny the black paint with black and grey highlights looks tough. The raised plastic bumpers, small wheels, and red powder-coated recovery hooks speak to this SUV’s off-road ambition. And the package is nicely rounded out with LED light fittings front and rear which cut nice angles around this car’s edges.
Inside is still very… American, but this has been toned down significantly from past Jeep offerings. There are almost no truly awful plastics now, with an abundance of soft-touch surfaces and nicer interaction points.
The wheel is still chunky and leather-clad though, and the multimedia screen is an impressive and bright unit taking centre stage in the dash.
My main complaint with the cabin is the chunky A-pillar which eats a bit of your peripheral vision, but otherwise it’s a plush design.
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.
The plushness makes for a comfortable environment, particularly for front passengers who benefit (in this case) from power adjustable seats, telescopically adjustable steering column and faux-leather trimmed padded surfaces pretty much everywhere.
There are small bottle holders in the doors, big bottle holders in the centre console, a large armrest box, and a small trench in front of the transmission stick. Sadly the Cherokee seems to miss out on the secret compartment under the seat base which the smaller Compass gets.
Back seat occupants get a decent, but not impressive, amount of space. I’m 182cm tall and had a small amount of airspace for my knees and head. There are small bottle holders in the doors, pockets on the back of both front seats, a set of movable air vents and USB ports on the back of the centre console, plus large bottle holders in the drop-down armrest.
Seat trim all-around has to be commended for being ultra-soft and comfortable, albeit not super supportive.
The second row is on rails, allowing you to max out boot space if need be.
Speaking of boot space, it’s a tough one to compare to other models because Jeep is insistent on using the SAE standard rather than the VDA standard (as one is more or less a liquid measurement, and the other is one made up of cubes, they are impossible to convert). Regardless, the Cherokee managed to consume all three items in our luggage set with ease, so it at very least has a competitive standard boot capacity.
The floor in our Trailhawk was carpeted, and a luggage cover comes standard. Worth noting is how high the boot floor is off the ground. This limits the space available, but is required for the full-size spare hidden under the floor, a must for long-distance drivers.
If ever the Average Aussie family has been in the grip of a cost-of-living crisis, it’s right now. With that in mind, we’ve chosen the entry level version of the Tourneo, the Active, for this review. At $65,990 before on-road costs, it’s not exactly cheap, but does come in a full $5000 less than the Titanium X version.
And it is pretty well equipped. That starts with 17-inch alloy wheels, 13-inch touchscreen and 12-inch driver information screen, Bluetooth, full connectivity including wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, wireless charging, 10-speaker stereo, tri-zone climate control, automatic wipers, heated front windscreen, keyless entry and start, 10-way powered driver’s seat, heated and cooled front seats, and a pretty nice artificial leather covering for some of the touch-points.
In a continuation of an industry-wide trend that we wish would stop, only white is considered a standard, no-cost paint colour. Every other colour costs extra, but in 2025, should it?
If the budget will stretch the extra five grand, the Titanium X model adds body coloured bumpers, a 14-speaker stereo, a 360-degree camera system, ambient interior lighting, heated outboard seats in the second row, and extra areas of (better) artificial leather trim.
Does it represent good value for the price? In a word: Yes.
Let’s take a look. The Trailhawk is the most expensive Cherokee you can buy, yet at $48.450 you’ll get stacks of gear. In fact, you’ll get more stuff than is packed in to most of its mid- to high-spec mainstream rivals.
The question is whether you’ll even want it. This is because while the Cherokee might tick key mid-size spec boxes, its real advantage is in the off-road gear sitting underneath it.
This is one of very few front- drive biased, transverse-mounted engine SUVs to get a locking rear differential, low-range transfer case, and a series of rather serious computer-controlled off-road modes.
Impressive stuff if you’re ever going to take it onto sand or scrabbling up gravel surfaces, potentially of little value if there’s no chance you’ll be doing any of those things.
Regardless, the standard road-going kit is great. Included is LED headlights, leather seats, keyless entry and push-start, an 8.0-inch multimedia touchscreen with Apple CarPlay, Android Auto, sat nav and DAB+ digital radio, auto wipers, anti-glare rear vision mirror, and 17-inch alloys.
Those wheels might seem a bit small by high-spec SUV standards, but are more focused on being off-road ready.
Our car was also fitted with the ‘Premium Pack’ ($2950) which adds some luxury touches like heated and cooled front seats with memory power adjust, carpeted boot floor, distance control for the active cruise (more on that in the safety section of this review), and black painted wheels.
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 Cherokee shows its star-spangled heritage here with a rather old-school drivetrain.
Under the bonnet is a 3.2-litre ‘Pentastar’ non-turbo V6. It produces 200kW/315Nm which you might note isn’t much more than a lot of turbocharged 2.0-litre alternatives these days.
If you were hoping for a diesel as a more attractive option for long-distance travel, tough luck, the Trailhawk is V6 petrol only.
The engine is perhaps at odds with the modern nine-speed torque converter automatic transmission, and the Trailhawk is one of the few front-biased, non-ladder chassis-based vehicles to have a low-range crawl gear and locking rear differential.
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.
In the spirit of keeping the hard-done-by fuel conglomerates in business, this V6 is as thirsty as it sounds. This is compounded by the fact that the Trailhawk weighs in at close to two tonnes.
The official claimed/combined figure is already not great at 10.2L/100km, but our week-long test produced a figure of 12.0L/100km. Not a good look when many of the Cherokee’s mid-size competitors are at least in the single-digit range, even in real-world testing.
In a small concession, you’ll be able to fill up (annoyingly frequently) with entry-level 91RON unleaded. The Cherokee has a 60L fuel tank.
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 Cherokee drives pretty much exactly how it looks, soft and ‘murican.
As thirsty as the V6 might be, it’s fun in a kind of retro way to be behind the wheel. It makes lots of angry noises and flies up the rev range (into fuel-drinkin’ town) all too easily, although despite that you might notice you’re not going particularly fast the whole time.
This is largely down to the Cherokee’s overbearing weight. Not great for fuel usage, it does have benefits for comfort and refinement.
On tarmac, and even gravel surfaces, the interior is impressively quiet. There’s little road noise or suspension rattle, and even the fury of the V6 is more of a distant thrum.
Gravity takes its toll in the corners, where the Cherokee hardly feels like a confident apex carver. The steering is light though, and the long-travel suspension is soft and forgiving. This makes for a refreshing SUV experience which places the focus solely on comfort over sportiness.
It’s also a nice point of difference from many mainstream competitors which seem hell-bent on making mid-size family SUVs handle like sports sedans or hatchbacks.
A test of the off-road features was a little outside the scope of our regular weekly test, although a thrashing down a few gravel tracks only served to confirm my confidence in the comfort suspension tune and stability of the standard all-wheel drive mode on offer.
Keeping the whole family safe is the name of the game here, so Ford has extended things like side-curtain airbags right through to the third row, thereby covering every outboard seating position. In fact, there are nine airbags all up, including a centre airbag between the front seat occupants.
Driver assistance programs include forward collision warning which incorporates the autonomous emergency braking (AEB) function, blind-spot monitoring and assistance, rear cross-traffic braking, active cruise-control, tyre pressure monitoring, lane-keeping assistance, front and rear parking sensors and traffic sign recognition.
The AEB works at any speed above 5km/h, and the pre-collision assist at speeds above 30km/h.
Both the second and third rows of seats feature a pair of ISOFIX child-restraint mounting points (for a total of four) while there are five top-tether restraint mounting points as well.
The Tourneo hasn’t been locally crash tested as per the safety-stars system, but the Transit Custom has been assessed overseas as part of a commercial van safety comparison which graded the vehicle at 96 per cent, the highest rating ever achieved by a van undertaking the test program in question.
In its last update the Cherokee acquired an active safety suite consisting of auto emergency braking (AEB) with pedestrian detection, forward collision warning, lane departure warning, blind spot monitoring, rear-cross traffic alert, and active cruise control.
The Trailhawk Premium Pack adds distance control (via a button on the steering wheel).
The Cherokee is also armed with six airbags, a reversing camera and parking sensors. It has dual ISOFIX child-seat mounting points on the outer rear seats.
Only four-cylinder Cherokees have been ANCAP safety tested (and scored a maximum five stars in 2015). This six-cylinder version does not carry a current ANCAP safety rating.
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.
Jeep has upped its ownership promise in the past few years with what it calls the “there and back guarantee”. This consists of a five-year/100,000km warranty and matching capped price service program.
It’s a shame the warranty is distance-limited, but time-wise is on par with Japanese makers. While the capped price service program is welcome, it's almost twice as expensive as an equivalent RAV4.
According to Jeep’s online calculator, services varied from $495 to $620 on this particular variant.
Roadside assist is offered beyond the warranty period provided you continue to service your vehicle at an authorized Jeep dealership.