Ford Tourneo vs Toyota Fortuner

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 Toyota Fortuner is a family friendly wagon and a very capable 4WD, but it’s looking and feeling decidedly old, especially when cross-shopped against the current highly competitive 4WD wagon market in which vehicles are increasingly stylish, sophisticated and packed with driver-assist tech (that isn't clunky) and standard features (that are extensive).

The Fortuner is practical and easy to live with as a daily driver, and in GXL spec it makes a lot of sense as a functional not flashy off-road tourer, but it’s far from the best family 4WD wagon around.

Until a next-generation Fortuner possibly arrives, there are plenty of Toyota fans who’d happily settle for a current Fortuner – if they haven’t already.

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 GXL is 4795mm long with a 2745mm wheelbase. It is 1855mm wide, 1835mm high and has a listed kerb weight of 2185kg. It has a 11.6m turning circle.

Not a lot has changed in terms of the Fortuner’s looks over the years and while it stubbornly retains that pleasingly non-offensive exterior of most modern SUVs, it does manage to not be totally bland.

The GXL is a body-on-frame 4WD based the HiLux, so it’s no sports car in appearance whether you gaze at it from the front, side, rear or from a bird’s eye view, but it doesn’t look like a block of rotten wood, so unless you’re looks-obsessed, then you should be okay driving this around.

The Fortuner interior is looking dated and the standard dark grey fabric cloth seats, though well-suited to coping with day-to-day messes and spills, don’t do the cabin any favours either, and – you know what? – I don’t mind any of it. Note our test vehicle on this occasion had black leather-accented seats as part of its GXL Option Pack, but I've spent time in cloth-seat Fortuners.

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 Fortuner’s cabin has a comfortably familiar feel to it and, thankfully, this interior is all about function not fashion.

It’s a practical space, with standard cloth seats (as mentioned our test vehicle has the Option Pack leather-accented seats, but I’ve spent enough drive time in Fortuners with cloth seats to know how those cope with the mess and dirt of everyday life), carpet floors with rubber mats, and durable plastic surfaces everywhere.

Up front, there’s an 8.0-inch multimedia screen (too small, not clear and bright enough) and that system has USB-connected Apple CarPlay and Android Auto (no wireless anything), and a 4.2-inch colour driver’s display, which is too small, too basic and part of an outdated mix of analogue and not-new-enough digital instrumentation.

There are the usual storage spaces – including a glovebox, a centre console, a tray for your smartphone, pop-out cup-holders on the outboard edges of the dash – and a USB port and a 12V socket for charging purposes.

The Fortuner’s three rows are in a 2-3-2 seat configuration. The 60/40 split-fold second-row seat has a one-touch, tumble feature. The 50/50 third-row seats are able to be stowed away, sort of. When folded to each side they protrude into the load space, reducing the size of what would otherwise be a more useable cargo area.

It’s reasonably comfortable in the second row; I sat behind my driving position and I had adequate head and knee room.

The second row has cup holders in the fold-down armrest, ceiling-mounted controls for the aircon, and two ISOFIX and three top-tether anchor points.

All three rows get aircon – with ceiling-mounted vents – and there are a few storage spaces in the third row, but no cup-holders. 

In terms of comfort, it’s ordinary back here; the seats are flat and unsupportive – and, for anyone other than children, the space is tight. 

Boot space is listed as 200 litres with the third-row seats in use, and in that area there are cargo hooks and a 12V socket.

Stow away the third-row and cargo space increases to 716 litres. But the seats still jut into the cargo area, greatly reducing your actual useable load space, and they also obscure a lot of driver vision to the rear.

With the second and third rows out of the way you have a listed 1080L of cargo area.

Our test vehicle is the GXL, the mid-spec variant in a line-up topped and tailed by the base-spec GX and the top-shelf Crusade.

The GXL has a starting price of $58,895 plus on-road costs.

Standard features onboard this seven-seat 4WD wagon include a 8.0-inch multimedia touchscreen (with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto), a six-speaker sound system, digital radio, manually adjustable seats and 17-inch alloy wheels.

Exterior paint choices include Glacier White (no extra cost) or premium paints Frosted White, Graphite, Stunning Silver, Eclipse Black, Feverish Red, Phantom Brown, and Saturn Blue, which all cost $675 extra.

Our test vehicle has the Option Pack, which includes black leather-accented seats and eight-way power-adjustable front seats.

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.

Every Fortuner in the line-up has a 2.8-litre four-cylinder turbo-diesel engine – producing 150kW and 500Nm – and that’s matched to a six-speed automatic transmission.

In terms of performance, the Fortuner is not going to set any hearts a-flutter: it’s sluggish off the mark, it takes a heavy right boot to make it feel like anything other than lacklustre on the move, and the six-speed auto downshifts quite harshly at times, especially when going up or down long, gradual inclines on the highway.

However, the 4WD set-up is effective, with adequate low-range gearing, a quietly efficient (but a tad clunky) off-road traction control system, and a rear diff lock.

Ford quotes an official combined fuel consumption figure of 7.4 litres for the Tourneo. Over a few days of running in a pretty broad mix of urban and country work, we saw an average of 8.6 litres per 100km which is still pretty good for a vehicle of this size.

With the standard 70-litre fuel tank, that gives the Tourneo a theoretical combined range of around 900km between fills, but the real-world number says closer to 800km is more realistic.

Don’t forget, either, that running costs will be a little higher than some diesels, as the Tourneo requires AdBlue at regular intervals, in line with its Euro 6 emissions levels.

The Fortuner has official fuel consumption of 7.6L/100km.

On this test I recorded 9.6L/100km.

Going by my on-test fuel figure, you could reasonably expect a driving range of about 833km from this Fortuner’s full 80-litre 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.

On-road, the Fortuner offers up a pretty standard driving experience for a ute-based wagon. It’s on the HiLux ladder-frame chassis, and it has a firm ride, bordering on harsh. Having said that, you do get used to it soon enough and the Fortuner's coil-spring suspension set-up takes most of the sting out of surface irregularities, except for the more severe dips and bumps.

The Fortuner’s driving position offers plenty of visibility – although the A-pillars are bulky and the third-row seats block vision to the rear when they’re folded up to the sides of the cabin.

This 4WD wagon is generally quiet, although there’s noticeable wind-rush noise around the wing mirrors and engine noise builds to a diesel shriek when you use a heavy right boot as is regularly required.

Steering – reach- and rake-adjustable – is adequately light and sharp, and the Fortuner, with its 11.6m turning circle, is reasonably nimble in suburban areas.

Acceleration, from a standing-start or for overtaking, is laggy but available power and torque come in handy during general driving, making the Fortuner more agreeable all-round than previous versions.

The six-speed auto is generally right for the job, but it downshifts harshly, especially when going up or down long, gradually sloping highway stretches. That happens enough for it to be on the wrong side of annoying.

Some aspects of the Fortuner’s driver-assist tech is annoying: active cruise control is too abrupt and pre-emptive, consistently miscalculating the space between the Fortuner and the vehicle in front as accurately as most of its rivals. This clunky application of tech to real-world scenarios works against the Fortuner. 

While driving a lightly corrugated and rutted dirt track o the way to our set-piece off-road tests, the Fortuner’s ladder-frame chassis yielded a stiff, firm ride, bashing and bouncing over any and all surface imperfections. Airing down the Yokohama Geolandar ATs (265/65R17) from 38 psi (pounds per square inch) to 26 psi takes some sting out of the ride.

The Fortuner is a very capable 4WD with standard off-road measurements, including ground clearance (216mm), approach angle (29 degrees), departure angle (25 degrees) and rampover angle (23.5 degrees). It has a listed wading depth of 700mm.

The Fortuner’s switchable part-time 4WD system has two-wheel drive (H2), and high- (H4) and low-range (L4) four-wheel drive. There’s ample low-end torque on offer – on tap across a broad rev range – for controlled low-speed 4WDing and the unfussed turbo-diesel engine keeps the Fortuner ticking along, without any hassle. 

Engine braking is good, keeping the Fortuner to a sustained and composed momentum on downhill runs.

The off-road traction control system is an effective set-up, limiting wheel-spin and sending much-needed torque to the tyres with some useable traction, with the aim to keep the vehicle moving along at a safe, controlled pace.

Besides that, the driver always has the option of engaging the rear diff lock for more traction action.

Wheel travel is decent for a wagon like this and if you can get the full suspension flex, and drop any mid-air tyres to the dirt for more traction, chances are you’ll be able to get moving along safely soon enough.

So, the mechanicals are fine – its 4WD set-up is very effective – but the Fortuner doesn’t have a whole lot of ground clearance (a claimed 216mm, standard for a contemporary 4WD wagon) and the side steps are prone to hitting on the edges of steep and deep ruts, but those factors are easily overcome through considered driving and tyres that are better suited to off-roading. 

The standard Yokohama Geolandar AT tyres are somewhat of a flaw in the Fortuner’s off-roading set-up. Sure, they’re technically all-terrains, but I reckon a better bet for you – if you’re planning to drive anything beyond formed trails – is to invest in a set of more aggressive all-terrains with greater sidewall bite. 

If you’re planning to use your Fortuner to tow anything, keep in mind that it has a 750kg unbraked towing capacity and 3100kg braked towing capacity. Remember: to be on the safe side, avoid going loading up to anywhere near those capacity figures.

Payload is 615kg (easily reached when you factor in people, pets, camping gear and more), gross vehicle is (GVM) is 2800kg, and gross combined mass (GCM) is 5900kg.

The Toyota Fortuner GXL has the maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating from testing in 2019. Note the ANCAP safety rating for the Fortuner is based on crash tests of the Toyota Hilux.

Standard safety gear includes seven airbags and driver-assist tech, including AEB with pedestrian (night and day) and cyclist detection (day only), active cruise control, lane departure alert, road sign assist and more.

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.

A five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty covers the Fortuner, which is par for the course these days.

If you stick to the relatively short servicing schedule – six months or 10,000km with at authorised dealerships – Toyota says it will cover the engine and driveline for up to seven years. All warranty elements are subject to terms and conditions, so make sure you’re fully aware of those.

Capped-price servicing applies and, for our test vehicle, it was $290 per appointment for the first five, then $377.38, $813.93, $572.55, $478.93 and $377.38.