Hyundai Santa Cruz vs LDV G10

What's the difference?

We need the Santa Cruz and its ilk in Australia. It’s great to be in a dual-cab ute that is compact enough to fit in a regular car-parking space and light enough to be efficient.

In ways, the Hyundai is reminiscent of the better Ford Falcon and Holden Commodore utes of yore, especially in its performance, dynamics and civility. And why wouldn’t it be a good fit here? Back in 1932, Australia invented the coupe utility, after all.

Bring it on, Hyundai.

The LDV G10 is a solid option for those buyers who just want a van that gets the job done. It was decent with weight on board, but is probably better suited to parcel carriers rather than pallet shifters.

Safety levels are the biggest concern, as it is falling behind in the class when it comes to active safety tech, and its weak crash test score could be enough to rule it out for some customers. 

Nose-on, the Tucson SUV’s futuristic nose treatment looks a little out of place on the Santa Cruz. It needs to be blunter and more aggressive.

Hyundai knows this and has attempted to square-off the lights, grille and bumpers as part of the MY25 facelift, but it still seems too sophisticated against more truck-like utes. No doubt the next-gen redesign will be bolder.

Profile and rear appearances, on the other hand, are pitch-perfect, imbuing the Santa Cruz with confidence and class. No other dual-cab can boast such a sleek, coupe-utility-esque silhouette. A drag coefficient figure of 0.37 is notable for this shape of vehicle.

Deftly executed, the Hyundai’s design is both contemporary yet reminiscent of ‘70s and ‘80s two-door utes, from Japan’s Subaru Brumby and Ford’s XA-XC Falcon, to America’s iconic Chevrolet El Camino and Ford Ranchero.

With all that in mind, it’s no surprise to learn that the Santa Cruz was designed in California, with the brief stating it combine car, SUV and ute, for urbanites seeking a workhorse that can also be a family-friendly weekend getaway machine.

While it is obviously smaller than a typical body-on-frame ute, in the flesh, the Hyundai seems almost as large. Some might even say right-sized for lighter-duty requirements, which seem to be the majority of urban-based vehicles in this segment.

Length, width, height, wheelbase and ground clearance measurements are 4970mm, 1905mm, 1695mm, 3005mm and 218mm respectively. Putting these figures in perspective, a Ranger’s corresponding dimensions are 5370mm, 1918mm, 1886mm, 3270mm and 234mm.

Not too big, then, and not too small. And much, much easier to manoeuvre and park in a big city like Toronto. It’s a bit of a Goldilocks zone inside the Santa Cruz as well.

The more you see LDV G10 vans, the more regular they look. Familiarity breeds ignorance, I guess, but I still think the G10 looks smart. 

It isn’t quite as boxy as some, with its sleeker front-end styling and almost sedan-like tail-lights helping it stand out from the ‘box-on-wheels’ stigma. It gets 16-inch alloy wheels as standard, and has halogen headlights and misses out on daytime running lights.

But it still is a box on wheels, measuring 5168mm long (on a 3198mm wheelbase), 1980mm wide and 1928mm tall. That makes it a darn sight smaller than the new HiAce, which stepped up significantly in size, and about on par with a Renault Trafic SWB or Ford Transit Custom 300S SWB. 

The perceived build quality is mostly okay, though our test car had a few loose plastics on the outside and a seemingly mis-fit windshield rubber.

A comfy and inviting five-seater, the Santa Cruz only really feels like a ute rather than a mid-size SUV if you look behind the (fixed) rear backrest or underneath the back cushion (where the jack and additional storage lay).

Spacious and quite airy up front, this one’s based on the pre-2024 Tucson facelift, so it’s completely car-like in its design and execution. The update also adopts the SUV’s vast touchscreen layout. Typical Hyundai features include digitalised instrumentation, pleasingly simple displays and thoughtful placement of all controls. There’s nothing even remotely alien about this ute’s presentation.

Quite bracing bucket seats up front offer decent support, while SUV standards of practical storage, ventilation and – surprise – noise suppression further impress, especially considering that our ute rides on 20-inch wheels and all-weather tyres. Maybe Canadian bitumen is just quieter.

If you’re used to smaller body-on-frame utes like the HiLux or previous Mitsubishi Triton, you might also be pleasantly surprised by how accommodating the Santa Cruz’s rear bench is.

The typical ute foibles of a too-upright backrest and flat, unsupportive seats do not apply here, revealing how spacious that shapely silhouette allows the cabin to be. Instead, you can enjoy SUV-levels of cushy comfort, as well as associated amenities like rear air vents, USB outlets and cupholders, though you’ll need to stick larger water bottles beneath the rear-hinged cushion, where extra storage is provided.

Better still, if you want some additional ventilation, just slide back the rear-window partition. This might mess with your mind, as the Santa Cruz then really begins to muddy the waters between SUV and ute.

Which leads us to the elephant in, or rather on, the Hyundai: the open bed.

Among other items, you’ll find side as well as rear steps for easier load bed access and a simple yet effective sliding tonneau operation, revealing a ridged floor and sizeable compartment storage compartment underneath. It comes with drainage holes for ice. Bed lighting, tie down hooks, and sliding cleats further boost useability and versatility. Just like in utes you’re probably used to.

Note that in this 20-inch wheel grade, there’s a space-saver spare underneath.

Bed length is 1323mm, width 1368/1085mm between the arches and height 488mm. For perspective, Ranger’s equivalents are 1464mm, 1520/1217mm and 525mm respectively. Bed volume is 764 litres, versus 1232L in the Ford.

Finally, towing capacity in the AWD version is 2260kg (Ranger: 3500kg) and payload is 730kg (Ranger Wildtrak: 901kg).

In summary then, compared to utes like the Ford above, the Hyundai’s OB is clearly shorter, narrower and shallower, yet is still usefully large for getting many jobs done.

Again, this is a new, more compact ute experiment, with no direct rivals, designed to be lighter, more efficient and fun to drive.

Those dimensions translate to a cargo space of 5.2 cubic metres, with a load space spanning 2500mm long, 1590mm wide (1270mm between the arches) and 1270mm tall. That mightn’t be big enough for you, and that’s too bad - there is no high roof version, nor a long-wheelbase model; but you could get an LDV V80 if you really need to step up in size… but we wouldn’t suggest you do that.

The payload for this model is 1010kg, which is decent but not benchmark-setting. It has a gross vehicle mass of 3000kg, meaning a kerb weight of 1990kg. The gross combination mass depends on the model: the GCM for diesel models is 5000kg for a braked trailer, while petrol models have a GCM of 4750kg for a braked trailer (auto) and 4500kg (manual). All models have a GCM of 3750kg for unbraked trailers.

The petrol versions have 1093kg of payload, if you prefer that fuel type. Interestingly, the manual versions have leaf spring rear suspension, while the auto models have coil springs as part of a five-link suspension architecture.

The load area has a six floor-mounted and four wall-mounted tie-down hooks, and the floor is lined with a vinyl covering while up to half-height the inner walls are lined, too. There are four lights mounted on the walls, which is handy for after-hours work.

And every LDV G10 comes with dual sliding side doors (some brands charge thousands more for this convenience), while the back door is a tailgate as standard, with the option of barn doors for diesel models.

For those who need to fork loads in, the barn doors are a no brainer, because the side door apertures (at 820mm wide) aren’t broad enough to load in using a lift. The tailgate also makes it very difficult to load weight in, as we found on test, as our mates at Crown Lifts had to use long tines to fork in our 750kg ballast.

When it comes to creature comforts up front, there is a pair of low-mounted pop-out cupholders, and an open storage area between the seats. There isn’t much covered storage, so if you often carry valuables, you may need to keep that in mind. 

The seats are comfortable and offer good adjustment, and they’ve been changed since the diesel auto model launched. They’re no longer a cheap-feeling fabric, but rather a faux-leather accented, mesh-lined set of seats, and both have armrests. Nice.

The presentation is okay, but the ergonomics could be better. The touchscreen is mounted down lower than most, and means you may need to take your eyes away from the road because the controls are down even lower. And the USB? Near the floor.

That screen is still a 7.0-inch display, but now has the same software system as the newer models in the LDV range. That means a nice crisp colourful display with the added advantage of Apple CarPlay… if you can get it to work. We had a few issues when reconnecting a phone without re-starting the car. 

If you’re buying an LDV G10, it’s because of the price. The cost of the diesel automatic model we’ve got is usually $32,490 drive-away for ABN holders, but there are promotions running listing it at $29,990 drive-away for ABN holders at the time of writing. If you’re not an ABN holder, just get one, because you’ll save heaps (the G10 diesel auto is $34,147 drive-away for non-ABN holders).

You can get other vans for around this money - the Renault Trafic Trader Life manual, with its gutless 66kW turbo-diesel engine, is $30,990 d/a. But you won’t find a diesel Hyundai iLoad, Peugeot Partner or Toyota HiAce within $10,000 of the LDV.

As for standard spec, you get 16-inch alloy wheels, tyre pressure monitoring, climate control air-conditioning, a 7.0-inch touchscreen with USB connectivity, Apple CarPlay, Bluetooth phone and audio streaming, CD player and AM/FM radio, a digital speedometer, two part fake-leather seats with arm-rests (driver’s side with height adjust), carpet flooring up front, and vinyl floor protective liner in the rear, and a reversing camera. 

Standard body fit out is dual sliding side doors and a lift tailgate, though you can get barn doors fitted on diesel models. Unlike some competitors, there is no option for glazing in the rear doors or side panels. 

There are also no auto headlights, no auto wipers, push-button start, keyless entry, leather-lined steering wheel, reach adjustment for the steering, and there’s quite a bit missing in the safety section of this review - see below.

The Santa Cruz is fitted with Hyundai’s 2.5-litre four-cylinder direct-injection turbo-petrol engine not offered in any Australian models at this time.

In North American-spec, it delivers about 210kW of power at 5800rpm and 422Nm of torque from 1700-4000rpm, to the front or all four wheels automatically via an eight-speed wet-type dual-clutch transmission, with a manual mode.

Acceleration time from 0-100km/h is about 6.5 seconds. Impressive for an 1860kg ute, aided no doubt by a healthy 113kW/tonne power-to-weight ratio.

Like the Tucson, the Santa Cruz is fitted with MacPherson-style struts up front and a multi-link independent rear suspension set-up, though they are tuned differently given the varying nature of the duo.

Under the bonnet of the diesel G10 is a 1.9-litre four-cylinder turbo-diesel with 106kW of power and 350Nm of torque. There’s the choice of a six-speed manual or six-speed automatic, and the G10 is rear-wheel drive. It has a diesel particulate filter, but not stop-start or AdBlue.

Prefer petrol? There’s a 2.4-litre five-speed manual model (105kW/200Nm) or a 2.0-litre turbocharged six-speed auto (165kW/330Nm). Those models are cheaper - $25,990 for the manual for ABN holders, while the turbo-petrol auto is $30,990 d/a. 

Hyundai says the Santa Cruz is tuned to run on American 87 RON unleaded petrol.

It returns a combined average of 10.6L/100km, for a carbon dioxide emissions rating of 250 grams per kilometre. Other official figures are 12.1L in the city and 8.7L on the highway.

That should mean the 67L fuel tank should give a range of about 632km.

Running on 90+ Octane unleaded petrol, our Santa Cruz averaged 10.5L, against a trip computer figure of 10.8L. Our best cycle, on mainly rural roads, was 9.1L. Again, this is SUV efficiency. The long-mooted hybrid version will smash all these figures out of the park.

The combined cycle fuel use claim for the LDV G10 diesel auto is 8.6 litres per 100 kilometres. The manual version uses 8.3L/100km according to the brand.

On test we saw a fuel use return of 9.7L/100km at the pump, across a mix of urban, highway and freeway driving, with and without a load. 

Petrol models use a claimed 11.5L (manual) and 11.7L (auto) per hundred.

The most remarkable thing about the Santa Cruz is how multi-faceted the driving experience is.

On one hand, compared to body-on-frame utes, it feels just like a medium-sized SUV, with none of their lumbering heaviness. That should come as no shock seeing this is an extension of the Tucson (and related Kia Sportage).

Yet if you approach the Santa Cruz from an SUV perspective, there are palpable driving and behavioural differences, setting the ute apart. Especially considering Australians are unfamiliar with this particular powertrain.

Let’s start with that.

After years of the sweet if at-times somewhat stretched 1.6-litre turbo found in most upper-spec Hyundai and Kia models, the Santa Cruz’s big 2.5L turbo is a revelation, with little to no lag moving off the line and a steady and growing tide of torque as speed builds.

Quiet, smooth and refined, it is a terrifically muscular engine application, aided by an equally smooth and responsive dual-clutch transmission. That there’s real-world economy benefits as well – we averaged just 9.1L/100km during one tankful – is icing on the cake.

You know what they used to say… there’s no substitute for cubic inches. Why can’t other Hyundais have this powertrain in Australia?

Likewise, there’s little to criticise regarding the Santa Cruz’s steering, being as light yet direct as its SUV cousin’s. The upshot is exact and controlled handling that would put even the most nervous driver at ease. With that in mind, one particular heavy late-summer storm only served to highlight the Hyundai’s AWD-enhanced stability and traction.

And a word of praise for the driver-assist tech too, with the adaptive cruise control, lane-assist and blind-spot systems providing nuanced operation and gentle intervention. Bounding along in highway traffic moving at the legal speed limit, all remained calm.

Speaking of which, the Santa Cruz’s ride quality is shockingly cushy for something on 20-inch rubber. This never ceased to impress us.

So far, so very good.

Tighter corners and speedy off-ramp turns did reveal a couple of unexpected traits, though. That soft suspension tune and 218mm ground clearance can make the Hyundai feel roly poly, with pronounced body lean that can lead to understeer, meaning the ute can run wide mid-turn unless the driver piles in more steering angle.

In contrast, an Aussie-spec Tucson is far more composed and agile in such situations.

Still, we mentally readjusted to this, applying similar degrees of caution that drivers of even the best body-on-frame utes, dynamically speaking, should exercise (hello, Ranger). Yet even in such scenarios, the Santa Cruz is still far more SUV-like in its suspension discipline and roadholding.

Our two other beefs are a big turning circle and poor side/rear vision. Otherwise, a big thumb’s up here.

Obviously, as with all vehicles tested abroad, we need to experience the Hyundai on local roads for a more definitive assessment.

But, as our very enjoyable time behind the wheel of the 2024 Santa Cruz AWD revealed, it seems especially well-suited to Australian tastes.

As a spiritual successor to the Brumby and Falcon/Holden utes, this dual-cab seems beyond the sum of its parts.

You probably wouldn’t choose an LDV G10 as a daily driver if you didn’t intend to use the cargo zone at least 80 per cent of the time.

But if - for whatever reason - you really want to use a van like this on a day-to-day basis, you won’t hate it. 

The G10 drives pretty nicely for this type of vehicle. It isn’t as bouncy when unladen as some of the other vans out there, with the suspension proving very quick to settle and mostly very compliant across mixed surfaces. 

The steering wheel can jostle a bit over sharp edges, but it steers well, with decent (not too heavy) weighting and predictable response at all speeds. 

Without weight on board the engine feels reasonably urgent in its response, which is a bit of a surprise because it’s not a powerhouse based on its outputs. It revs smoothly and pulls with good strength, with little turbo lag to contend with. While it is a bit of a grumbly engine at times, the response is better than adequate.

Plus the transmission is well sorted, with smooth shifts that are predictable.

The braking response is definitely better without weight on board, with a decent progression to the pedal and decent bite when you press hard on the anchors.

If safety matters to you, this could be your reason not to buy an LDV G10.

The van scored a mediocre three-star ANCAP crash test safety score - which would be more acceptable if that was under the current, strictest criteria, but it was actually tested in 2015. Which means it would be even lower if tested today.

One of the reasons is the safety equipment - there’s not a lot of it. You get dual front airbags, but no side airbags or curtains. There is no advanced tech like auto emergency braking (AEB), no lane keeping assistance or lane departure warning, no blind spot monitoring or rear cross-traffic alert… But you do get a reversing camera and rear parking sensors.

The Santa Cruz is not available in Australia at this time.

Hyundai’s current Australian warranty period is five years/unlimited kilometres with roadside assistance and available capped-price servicing options.

Most models also offer scheduled servicing between 10,000km and 15,000km.

LDV isn’t close to the leaders in the segment for ownership, with a behind-the-times three-year/100,000km warranty (admittedly with the same cover for roadside assist), and no capped price servicing plan. 

Service intervals are every 12 months/10,000km, which is short, and you need to get an initial service done at 5000km, too. 

If you’re worried about long-term longevity, you can check out our LDV G10 problems page.