Ford Tourneo vs Rolls-Royce Ghost

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.

In a disruptive era when the coachbuilder has pivoted to SUVs like the Cullinan, a sort of London black cab that’s been dipped in opulence, and succeeds despite itself, and the brand’s grand, million-dollar EV, the Spectre, the Ghost is a safe and familiar space. 

A beautiful, long, broad, immaculate land boat. It’s a space Rolls inhabits with relish. 

The Ghost Series II feels nothing like a track-day option when you’re behind the wheel. But it might do if you were stepping out of a Phantom. Or a Cullinan. Or a Wraith. Especially if you’re stepping out of the back doors. 

It’s the perfect driver’s car. As long as all your other cars are also Rolls-Royces. 

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.

Yes, its exterior is more monolithic than before. The previous iteration was hardly fiddly, but the (apparently client driven) evolution here edges ever so gracefully towards what Rolls-Royce might secretly think of as brutalism.

The Ghost Series II’s generous 2148mm width is further emphasised up front, stretched across its upright prow, with slimline headlights adding definition and — surprisingly — a touch of villainy.

New, Spectre-inspired tail lamps and a discreetly inscribed double ‘R’ monogram add a reserved flourish from behind, and buyers can choose from two new 22-inch, nine-spoke wheel designs.

It’s subtle, no doubt. But it’s also impeccable.

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.

Inside, yes, there are bonkers touches in this most refined of automotive spaces, such as upholstery pinpricked by 107,000 'Placed Perforations' of 1.2mm in diameter, each individually examined, that replicate the shape of some clouds spotted over Rolls-Royce's Goodwood HQ. 

Beside those flourishes of lunatic opulence, the more practical features feel pedestrian, but they’re comprehensive. The wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, the seamless 'Central Information Display' and the 18-speaker 1400-watt audio, the upgraded Wi-Fi hotspot and the unobtrusive USB-C ports. The rear-seats flush with giant, streaming-optimised screens and heated and ventilated massaging seats.

Rolls acknowledges the generational movement of its clientele from back seat to front, with over 90 per cent of buyers now opting to — gasp! — steer themselves in a Ghost. But with back-seat savoir faire in its DNA, Rolls simply extends its hospitality to every seat.

The Ghost Series II is yours for an indicative price of just $680,000 (or $800K for the Black Badge) plus substantial on-road costs. The Ghost Series II extended (which we didn’t drive at the international launch in Provence) will slip in at around $20K less than the Black Badge before additional charges. 

If they seem like big numbers, you’re probably the sort of person who looks at price tags, or who shops in shops that put price tags on things. These are not common traits of Rolls-Royce buyers, who may only be vaguely aware of the actual price of their vehicle, and whose historical impression of guillotines is generally unfavourable.

So, high six-hundreds is table stakes.

But you might also think the ‘standard’ Ghost, like all Rolls-Royces, is considered by most buyers to be a mere starting point, from which they’ll typically up-spec their ride from a sumptuous and expensive options list.

Spending another 10 percent of the purchase price on customisation is a bare-bones outlay for most owners, but even so, the evolved Ghost’s out-of-the-box features are so comprehensive as to be almost overwhelming. 

First, because the Ghost has been Rolls-Royce’s driver’s car since the first (modern) generation arrived in 2010, specifically to cater to a weird (for Rolls clientele) new generation of buyers who wanted to drive their Rolls themselves. 

So that price gets you, above all, that proven but superb 6.75-litre twin-turbo V12 engine, massaged via an eight-speed transmission and an AWD system that’s as rich and viscous as Crassus’s last libation.

There’s its subtly tinkered 'flight on land' 'Planar Suspension System' (note the unspoken dissonance between the terms ‘flight on land’ and ‘driver-focused'), with an ingenious 'Satellite Aided Transmission' system that uses GPS to pick the ideal gear with which to launch out of turns.

It works hand-in-velvet-glove with Goodwood's 'Flagbearer' camera system, which tracks the road ahead to chide potholes into submission in advance.

Because it’s a Rolls, though, that’s barely even the start of the story. 

The coachwork is extraordinary, with new trim options including natural open-pore 'Grey Stained Ash' design elements, a sumptuous new bamboo rayon textile called 'Duality Twill'.

There a night-sky inspired illuminated fascia that apes elements of time-lapse celestial photography, part of the central glass panel that stretches the length of the dash. 

Sure, you might expect that level of detail for the outlay. But for the outlay it’s far from missing anything you’d expect.

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.

Rolls doesn’t like acceleration figures — too gauche, darling — but armed with that proven 420kW and 850Nm V12, the Ghost Series II has serious heft. Delivering max torque from 1600rpm — just 600rpm above idle — the effect is genuinely of one endless surge, a wafting cloud of momentum that subtly slips between gears as it exudes itself across the countryside.

The Black Badge edition, like all of its, er, ‘disruptive’ ilk offers a ‘Low’ button (‘Low’ means ‘Sport’ in Rollspeak), which bumps gearshift speeds by 50 percent when you plant your foot, and delivers a distinctly non-Rolls-like pop and burble on overrun. It also provides an extra 21kW and 50Nm, because Black Badge is mean and tough.

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.

Provence is not entirely a driver’s paradise, with every stretch of slightly twisty tarmac only a counterpoint to a motorway lined with Marseille lorries, Depardieu-esque men in tractors who refuse to move to the verge, and small villages where each kerbside corners sit millimetres from the foot of an adjacent boulangerie.

Which is to say it’s neither a place for economy runs, nor a location at which to run up the consumption numbers with a madcap series of impromptu hill climbs.

Our Ghost II drive returned around 16L/100km, which feels about right with that gorilla-in-a-tuxedo 6.75L V12, and is only slightly above the official figures of 15.8L/100km. Not great, could be worse.

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 Ghost Series II drives like a magic carpet, serene and untroubled; in almost any stable other than that of Rolls, calling it a ‘driver’s car’ would have you throttled by their skunkworks. Everything is relative.

Still, it hides its considerable dimensions well. There’s never any doubt that you’re in a large saloon, as you white-knuckle the Ghost’s impeccably appointed steering wheel, but there’s always enough power to deliver creamily instant throttle response, even in the case of initially misjudged cambers. 

Nor can the Black Badge hide the shimmy of that characteristic ‘flight on land’ body drift. The upside is that its manners are impeccable, even through the worst possible pieces of corrugation Provence can deliver. 

If anything, the Ghost Series II’s big-hearted bulk adds to the fun factor, especially in some of Rolls-Royce’s more garish colour options, when gasping South of France MAMILs stare in amazement as a bright yellow, five-and-a-half metre Rolls passes them on the outside, scattering their various baguettes and garlands of onions.

You get airbags, ESC, adaptive cruise, parking sensors and auto parking, and a rear camera. But don’t expect Rolls-Royce to allow the blighters at ANCAP to wreck one.

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.

Expect just a four-year servicing and warranty offer for Australian customers of this vehicle. So that means an unlimited-mileage warranty, including all services, for the first four years.