Jayco Penguin vs LDV Terron 9

What's the difference?

At nearly $25,000 the Penguin can't really be called cheap, but what does make it worth a look is the completely contained living space – the sitting, sleeping and cooking are all done inside, and that's a boon when the weather turns.

It's ideal if you want the comfort of a caravan without the bulk of one, and the ease of towing a more traditional camper-trailer offers, without the struggle of set-up.

There’s no doubt that the current crop of Chinese utes are better than previous versions. Similarly, there’s little doubt that private buyers are having a big say in which way the market is headed, particularly when it comes to alternatives to the Thai-built legacy players. And that’s precisely where the Terron 9 plays its best game. The value for money is hard to argue with, and the sheer size of the thing gives it an extra dimension if that’s what you think you need in a dual-cab. While we have no quarrel with the driveline of the Terron 9, it will be nice when somebody finally adds an on-bitumen four-wheel-drive mode to one of these in this price range. Until then, the Terron 9 can’t be criticised for this omission. In the meantime, the Terron 9 exhibits quite a bit of refinement in the way both the engine and transmission work together. Our biggest complaint is the way the driver-assistance systems have been calibrated. The driver-distraction warning is almost comical (for the first five minutes, anyway) in its zeal, and the lane-keeping assistance program is bordering on scary in the wrong circumstances. Again, LDV is not alone in this regard, but as a clean-sheet design, sketched up in a driver-assisted world, perhaps we were expecting a little more from this ute.

Inside, the layout is simple, but comfortable for two people. The rear of the camper is dominated by the east-west oriented bed.

The dinette, to the front of the camper, is cosy and only good for two people. It does actually fold down into a second bed for a third body (or a second body who's not allowed in the first bed), but although there's sleeping for three, seating that many would be difficult. Maybe a small grandchild, occasionally. It's comfortable, though and both seats lift up to reveal a little extra storage. There's even a hidey-hole behind the driver's side back-rest.

Typical of all campers of this sort, the bench heights are low and will frustrate taller people who need to stoop to use them.

This camper has a canvas skirt, but really there's more see-through plastic window than actual canvas, so it's quite panoramic inside. It's not hard to gain a bit of privacy, though; there's a dark tint to them so it's hard to see through during the day, and all the windows have curtains, so you can shut everything out, easily enough.

Lighting is simple, with just two LED lights in the roof, although unless you pay extra for a battery, they'll only work at powered sites.

A longer, wider cargo bed is probably one of the Terron 9’s best party tricks. Compared with the T60, the Terron is larger in every direction and extends that lead into the tub’s dimensions where it emerges with 1230mm between the wheel arches and a cargo bed length of 1600mm (90mm more than the T60 Pro).

That’s partly all possible by the extra wheelbase which, at 3300mm, is about as big as it gets in this class of ute, although the turning circle has grown to 13.1m compared with the T60’s tighter 12.7m.

A spray-in tub liner is standard as is the spring-assisted tailgate. Pony up for the ritzier, Evolve version, and you add cargo rails atop the tub sides and cargo-bed lighting.

Inside the tray, there are four decent tie-down hooks nice and low in the tub and plastic side toppers to prevent damage to the tub’s top rail. The tailgate is a clever design that is supported by springs and struts so that it drops in a controlled way and is very light to lift back up. The latch on the top corner of the tray is odd, but the tailgate can be opened via the key fob, too.

The biggest omission in the tray is the lack of any power socket.

Inside, the cabin is wide and features a pair of cup-holders down low in the centre console, as well as a USB-A, USB-C and a 12-volt socket placed somewhat awkwardly in the centre bin. The front arm-rest looks like it should incorporate a wireless phone charger, which it doesn’t. Yet. Watch this space, is the whisper. A reach and height adjustable steering column is also a nice addition at this price-point. And, thankfully, LDV has worked out that most people don’t want to go fishing through a menu to adjust the climate control. So the Terron 9 has actual buttons on the dashboard. Hallelujah.

Side steps are standard and help you in and out of the cabin, and there are grab-handles in the right places, too. Rear seat space is generous and even the cloth trim of the entry-level version is not the cheap-and-nasty sort, even if it’s far from sporty looking.

The indicator wand is on the `wrong’ side for Australia, partly because the gear selector is a wand on the other side of the steering column. Some users will spend the first few days hitting the gear selector in error. The starter is a push button, but placed in the conventional position of a standard ignition key. Nice touch.

Because the Penguin is so light – as mentioned above – and because the towing height is just 1660mm, lower than the roof of most cars and certainly below that of SUVs, it's easy to tow, even if you don't have the largest 4WD to haul it around.

The Subaru Forester I tested this camper with, for instance, did the job quite well and would be ideal if you towed the camper down the coast a few times a year.

Underneath, the camper's got a simple beam axle with leaf slipper springs and shock absorbers. They do a commendable job and, as this is a purely on-road camper, there's no need for it to be anything else.

The first impression is that this is a very big vehicle. The passenger’s seat seems miles away and the bonnet is high, wide and mighty. That might not play too well off road where such a huge bonnet can hide the obstacles you’re about to fall off or drive over, but at least the forward facing camera system gives you a fighting chance. The other problem off-road is likely to be the sheer girth of the LDV where it might struggle a little for elbow room on tracks formed by smaller vehicles.

On the bitumen, the Terron 9 feels pretty relaxed with a gear for every occasion and an unstressed engine that is clearly tuned for mid-range oomph rather than top-end power. It’s smooth and relatively refined and, left to its own devices, the eight-speed automatic shifts up seamlessly.

The only complaint would be a degree of driveline shunt in the example we drove that could be both heard and felt, most notably in the transition from off-throttle to on-throttle, but also during the odd upshift. In 2025, this seems very odd indeed. We checked with LDV and they reckon this is a one-off glitch and possibly down to the car’s early build. Certainly, the second Terron 9 we sampled didn’t exhibit the same problem.

Ride quality is generally good and while the leaf-sprung rear axle can feel a little lively at times, it’s not a bad match for the front end, meaning that the car feels of a piece rather than two halves of a car fighting each other. While there is plenty of suspension movement, it also feels quite well controlled despite the obvious amount of unsprung mass. Cabin noise is commendably low, too. Thanks to tall gearing and that noise suppression, the Terron is a relaxed highway performer.

The steering is better than average for this type of vehicle with a good relationship between feel, weight and reaction speed. This is one ute than can be hustled along if it needs to be, and one on which the paddle-shifters are a meaningful inclusion (although they’re also a huge bonus when off-roading).

By far our biggest complaint is one that is far from exclusive to LDV. And that’s the (what we consider to be) poor calibration of some of the driver aids. The lane-keeping assistance is the main offender and, on a narrow road with a well-defined edge, the Terron 9 will intervene to prevent a wheel dropping onto the gravel. Unfortunately, at higher speeds, it does so with what feels like a stabbing action; violent enough to scare you the first time it happens. Could it frighten a timid or inexperienced driver into a crash? It’s a possibility we can’t ignore.

The driver-distraction warning is also, ironically, its own distraction. Take your eyes off the road for long enough to read the otherwise excellent dashboard display, and you’ll have the warning stepping in with a beeping admonishment as well as a visual warning that overrides the information you were trying to read in the first place. Again, LDV is hardly alone in this, but there’s definitely some recalibration required before the systems are as good as some of the (more expensive) competition’s equivalents.