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It’s pretty hard to miss the LDV D90.
Mainly because it is gigantic; it's one of the biggest SUVs you can buy. In fact, I’d say what’s drawn you to this review is maybe you’ve seen one of these behemoths trucking past, and you’re wondering what the LDV badge is all about and how this relatively unknown SUV stands up against popular rivals and other notable newcomers.
To get one confusing thing out of the way, LDV once stood for Leyland DAF Vans, a now-defunct British company which has been brought back to life by none other than China’s SAIC Motor – yes, the same one which also resurrected MG.
So, is this MG big brother worth looking into? We took the recently released diesel version of the D90 on test for a week to seek some answers…
Sometimes it’s good to check in on your friends.
You might not have seen them in a while, and they might not be the most recent addition to your circle, but it’s still good to see how they’re doing once in a while.
For this review, we’re checking in with the Mazda CX-30, which we loved when it first arrived, and we of course made some great memories with.
A few years have passed since, and the small SUV space in which it competes has become ever more crowded since.
The question is, should we be spending time with our old pal, the CX-30? Or, is it better spent with one of its new, trendy rivals?
We’ve grabbed a top-spec G25 Astina in front-wheel drive guise to find out.
Looking for a cheap, powerful diesel SUV with huge cabin space and a humane third row for adults? The D90 is a really sound offering, especially considering the price of entry for this top-spec diesel which should resonate with Aussies a bit better than the petrol version.
It has plenty of issues that could be ironed out, but they’re all so small and not sale-breaking it’s almost annoying how much better the D90 could be with just a little work. Rivals should be looking over their shoulder for what comes next.
I’m glad we checked in on our old friend, the Mazda CX-30. Despite being a car with two wheels planted in the future, and two firmly planted in the past, it manages to hold the line against many of its newer rivals, both on the cheaper and higher-tech end of the spectrum.
What you see really is what you get with this Mazda; it’s lovely to drive, looks fantastic, and punches above its weight when it comes to cabin ambiance. While what’s under the bonnet might no longer be in vogue, driving this car again has only reinforced its standing as small SUV royalty.
Some colleagues I’ve spoken to like the way the D90 looks. To me, it looks like someone gene-spliced a Hyundai Tucson with a SsangYong Rexton in a lab, then grew it in a stew of peptides and this was the result.
What can’t really be communicated in images is how truly massive the D90 is. At over five metres long, two metres wide and almost two metres tall, the D90 is certifiably huge. Given that’s the case then, it’s admittedly almost admirable that only the side profile makes this thing look a little goofy.
I think LDV has done a pretty good job on the front, and the rear is simple but well resolved for a vehicle that rides on a ladder chassis (just take a look at the Pajero Sport for how ladder-chassis rear designs can get… controversial…).
The wheels, garnishes, and LED headlights are all tastefully applied. It’s not ugly… just confronting… size-wise.
Inside shares some familiar characteristics with sister-brand MG. Look from a distance and it’s all quite nice, get in too close and you’ll see where the corners have been cut.
The first thing I don’t like about the interior is the materials. Apart from the wheel they are all pretty cheap and nasty. It’s a sea of hollow plastics and mixed trims. The faux-wood pattern, which is clearly just a print on a plastic resin is particularly gnarly. Reminds me of some Japanese cars from 20 years ago. It might work for the Chinese audience, but that’s not where the market is in Australia.
On the other hand, you could say “well, what do you expect at this price?” and that is true. Everything is here and works, just don’t expect the D90 to be playing alongside the established players when it comes to fit, finish, or material quality.
The huge screen works to finish the dash, but that darned software is so ugly you’ll wish it didn’t. At least all the major touch-points are ergonomically accessible.
While the Haval Jolions of the world look ready to hit up the McDonald’s drive thru with their youthful flair, and cars like the Toyota Corolla Cross want to save money and dine at home with their conservative appearance, the Mazda CX-30 looks dressed to impress, as though it should be seen at the valet stand of your nearest Michelin-star restaurant.
A few years of age or not, the design of this car is still spectacular at this price, placing it right at the forefront of looks for the mainstream small SUV segment.
The delicate panel work, signature big grille, and large wheels at this Astina grade match nicely with the minimalist light fittings which themselves come complete with a soft-fade effect for the indicators.
It’s attention to detail like this which makes the CX-30 look like it belongs in a price-bracket above, and demands rivals pay attention.
The interior meets expectations, too, which is no small feat given some cars in this space prove it’s one thing to look great, and quite another to match it with a truly premium feel.
Mazda has done a fantastic job in the cabin which feels the part with an abundance of soft-touch materials, a dark, modern colour scheme, and an overall vibe which is ageing well even compared to more recently launched rivals.
I would go so far as to say, at the Astina grade the CX-30 feels more like it should be competing with Lexus, certainly punching above the mark, even at its mid-$40K price-point.
The D90 is as massive on the inside as it is on the outside. I’m talking better space than a minivan, and nothing says that more than the humane third row. At 182cm tall, I not only fit in the rearmost two seats, but I can do so in as much comfort as any other row. It’s staggering. There’s actual airspace for my knees and head back there.
The second row is massive and on rails too, so you can extend the amount of room available to third-rowers – and there’s so much room in the second row, you’ll have space even with the seats moved forward.
My only criticism here is that the giant rear door is far enough forward to make clambering into the third row a little tricky. Once you’re there though there are really no complaints.
The boot is even usable with the third row deployed, with a claimed 343L of space. That should be hatchback-sized, but the measurement is a little deceptive as the space is tall but shallow, meaning it will only allow you to place smaller bags (a few, if you can stack them) with the remaining space.
The boot is otherwise cavernous with a wild 1350L available with the third row stowed flat, or 2382L with the second row stowed. In this configuration, with the front passenger seat slid forward to its furthest position, I was even able to get a 2.4-metre-long benchtop in the back. Truly impressive.
Without buying an actual commercial van then, this could be the cheapest way into such room, especially in a 4x4 bi-turbo diesel SUV. No arguing with that.
Second-row occupants get their own climate control module, USB ports and even a full-sized household power outlet, with more legroom than you could possibly need. My only complaint was that the seat trim seemed a little flat and cheap.
Front occupants get large cupholders in the centre console, a deep armrest box (with no connectivity in it, just a randomly placed DPF cycle switch), pockets in the doors, and an awkward binnacle under the climate controls that houses the single available USB port. My phone didn’t fit in there.
No complaints about leg and headroom in the front either, though, with plenty of adjustability to boot. The driver’s seat offers a commanding view of the road, although it can be a little unsettling to be so far off the ground in corners… more on that in the driving section.
It looks good and feels good, but is it practical? While the CX-30 is larger than its smaller CX-3 sibling, it still leaves space to be desired, especially compared to some other segment-bending small SUVs it competes with.
The front seat is not where the bad news starts though. It feels spacious enough inside for a couple, with large seats, plenty of space separating the front two occupants, and plenty of comfort on offer with padded armrests on both sides.
There are big bottle holders in the doors and in a flip-open bay in the console (wouldn’t want to interrupt this design… ), and there’s additional storage once you slide and flip open the armrest.
To keep things tidy, your USB and 12V power connections are also located in the console bay. No need for messy cables, and there’s a little divider, too.
On the downside here, there’s a chunk of dead space under the climate unit, which looks like it could be filled with a shelf or, better yet, wireless charger. As it is, it’s just a plastic panel with a small bay underneath which barely fits a phone.
Adjustability is great for the driver, with a reach- and tilt-adjustable steering wheel, and high belt-line offering a sporty hatch-like feel, which I instantly felt comfortable with.
The rear seat isn’t as impressive. While the fancy seat trim and soft-touch points mostly continue, some of the padding in the doors has been replaced with hard plastic, and there’s a raise in the floor to facilitate all-wheel drive on some variants which eats into the centre occupant’s foot space.
Behind my own seating position, my knees have a tiny amount of room, and so does my head, at 182cm tall. Technically, I fit, but it’s close, and feels it.
Rear occupants get a padded drop-down armrest with two bottle holders, an extra two surprisingly large ones in the doors, but no power outlets. There are two adjustable air vents on the back of the centre console.
The coupe-like design also has a cost when it comes to boot space. There’s 317-litres (VDA) of space available, although we could only fit the CarsGuide luggage set when the parcel shelf was removed.
The space is suitable for a couple on a weekend adventure, but a bit tight if you have more requirements, like a pram-age child, for example.
There is an under-floor space which houses a space-saver spare wheel and part of the Bose sound system.
On paper, the seven-seat D90 is immediately quite appealing. At $47,990, it is literally a lot of car for the money. This latest iteration, the bi-turbo diesel, is only available in Executive trim at this price, but you can pinch pennies further by choosing one of the lesser petrol turbo variants.
Regardless, and much like its MG sister brand, LDV is good at making sure that essential spec boxes are ticked.
This includes screens galore as is popular in the Chinese market, including a massive 12-inch multimedia screen and 8.0-inch digital dash.
A screen is only as good as the software that runs on it though, and let me tell you, the D90’s software is not good. A quick flick through the weirdly small menu reveals barebones functionality, terrible resolution and response time, as well as possibly the worst execution of Apple CarPlay I’ve ever seen.
I mean, it doesn’t even use all of that screen real estate! Not only that, but in a recent overhaul to CarPlay, Apple released software to utilise wider displays – so the car’s own software must simply be incapable of supporting it. Inputs also proved laggy, and I had to repeat myself on multiple occasions to get any use out of Siri. Unlike every other car I’ve used, the software in the D90 wouldn’t return to the radio after you hang up or stop talking to Siri. Frustrating.
I’d rather have a far smaller display that actually worked well. The semi-digital dash was functional, although barely did anything that a small dot-matrix display isn’t capable of and had one screen which for my entire week said ‘loading’. I’m still not sure what it was meant to do…
At least it supports Apple CarPlay at all, which is more than could have been said for segment hero, the Toyota LandCruiser.
The D90 does tick some necessary items that are quite good. LED headlights are standard, as are leather seats with eight-way power adjust for the driver, a heated multi-function steering wheel, 19-inch alloy wheels (which still somehow look small on this huge thing), three-zone climate control, eight-speaker audio system, electric tailgate, keyless entry with push-start ignition, a reversing camera, front and rear parking sensors, tyre-pressure monitoring, as well as a fairly substantial safety suite which we’ll explore later in this review.
Great on paper then, the bi-turbo diesel engine is a boon, as is the fact that the D90 rides on a ladder chassis with an electronically-controlled low-range terrain mode for the transmission, too.
You’d expect to pay more – even from Korean and Japanese rivals for this much specification. No matter which way you cut it, the D90 is good value.
When Mazda started what seemed like a push upmarket at the time, the CX-30 was an expensive small SUV. The intention with this car’s look and feel seemed to match the pricing, though, so we all thought Mazda was trying to establish a new semi-premium positioning.
As fate would have it, though, through a pandemic and various fluctuations when it comes to supply and raw material costs, every other manufacturer in this mainstream small SUV space has pushed up the price-scale, too, now making even the more expensive versions of the CX-30 look not so bad value after all.
The specific version we have for this test is the top-trim Astina, using the larger 2.5-litre engine in front-wheel drive form.
The CX-30 range is expansive and confusing, because you can also have an Astina with the smaller 2.0-litre engine, or in all-wheel drive, or even with Mazda’s odd new ‘X20’ engine option which is effectively a supercharged compression-ignition science experiment.
This front-drive 2.5-litre version is probably the pick of the Astina bunch, though, offering the larger engine without the weight or unnecessary cost of all-wheel drive.
Wearing a before on-roads price-tag of $43,310, it now goes into battle with the surprisingly expensive Toyota Corolla Cross (Atmos FWD - $43,550), Honda HR-V (e:HEV L - $47,000), Volkswagen T-Roc (R-Line AWD - $45,200), and the almost as expensive top-spec Kia Seltos (GT-Line FWD - $41,500).
Of course, if these prices, which will approach $50K once you factor in on-road costs, are making you wince, there’s always the more affordable Haval Jolion (from $36,990 for an equivalent high-spec S) or the MG ZST (from $34,990 for an equivalent Essence) from China.
If you’re thinking neither will hold a candle to the Mazda’s dynamics or quality, you’d be right. Read on to learn why.
Before we go on, though, at this Astina grade equipment includes 18-inch alloy wheels, an 8.8-inch multimedia panel with wired Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, LED headlights, a sunroof, heated front seats with power adjust for the driver, a 7.0-inch digital instrument element, surprisingly nice leather interior trim for the seats and wheel, dual-zone climate, a head-up display, and a 360-degree parking camera.
Interesting omissions at this price include a wireless charger, wireless phone mirroring, USB-C connectivity, and while there’s a great safety suite included, there’s also no true hybrid option in the CX-30 range.
The D90 was initially offered in Australia with a 2.0-litre turbo petrol four-cylinder, but this 2.0-litre bi-turbo diesel makes much more sense, both for towing and long-distance touring.
It’s a four-cylinder offering a healthy 160kW/480Nm. You’ll note that’s pretty close to Ford’s similar 2.0-litre bi-turbo diesel, which is currently offered in the Everest…
The diesel also gets its own transmission, an eight-speed torque converter automatic with computer-controlled ‘Terrain Selection 4WD’.
This gives the D90 diesel a max towing capacity of 3100kg braked (or 750kg unbraked) with a max payload of 730kg.
This is where the Mazda is really showing its age. G25 variants are powered by a 2.5-litre four-cylinder engine, which isn’t turbocharged, nor is it assisted at the wheels by electric motors in a hybrid arrangement.
It’s punchy enough to keep the pace with most of its turbo rivals, putting out 139kW/252Nm, and some will love the fact it’s paired with a traditional torque converter automatic instead of a rubbery continuously variable or glitchy dual-clutch set-up, but it’s certainly not for the eco-conscious.
Not only is it a relatively large displacement engine, but aside from a start-stop system there’s little to mitigate your emissions. In fact, this unit only complies with Euro 5 emissions regulations, well behind the pace today.
The D90 diesel is said to consume 9.1L/100km of diesel on the combined cycle, but ours didn’t score near that with a figure of 12.9L/100km after a week of what I’d consider “combined” testing.
The D90 a big unit, so that number doesn’t seem outrageous, it’s just nowhere near the claim… All D90s have 75-litre fuel tanks.
Some bad news, of course, comes at the fuel pump. The official claim for this relatively large engine is a bit bold, at 6.8L/100km on the ADR combined cycle, but if you’re using it for mainly urban duties as we did for this review I wouldn’t be surprised to see figures more in the region between 8.0 and 9.0L/100km.
As it stands, our car produced an average of 7.8L/100km, which is better than expected, but still painful in the era of hybrids and fuel-sipping turbos, especially when fuel is close to $2.00 a litre in most capital cities.
Mercifully, the lack of complexity from this engine does mean you can put bog-standard 91 RON unleaded in the tank.
The D90 is easier to drive than it looks… to a degree…
It lacks some polish of its more established rivals, which results in a drive experience that isn’t bad, but occasionally frustrating.
The ride somehow manages to be soft and harsh at the same time. It undulates over larger bumps, while transmitting the worst parts of smaller, sharper ones to the cabin. It speaks to a lack of calibration between the suspension and dampers.
That having been said, the D90 masks its ladder chassis underpinnings well, with little of that typical body-on-frame jiggle that some rivals still struggle with.
The drivetrain is good, but a little unruly. As you’d imagine from the figures, there’s more than enough power on tap, but the transmission tends to have a mind of its own.
It will occasionally lurch between gears, pick the wrong gear, and off-the-line will sometimes be delayed before shunting the D90’s bulk forward with a sudden mountain of torque. It doesn’t sound particularly good either, with the diesel surging through the rev range with industrial crudeness.
By the time the D90 has reached cruising speed though, there’s really not much to complain about, with the D90 milling along with plenty of power in reserve for overtaking. The view of the road is commanding, but you really feel the D90’s high centre of gravity in the corners and under heavy braking. The physics of such a large object are undeniable.
I have to say, LDV has done a fantastic job of the D90’s steering, with a quick, light feel that betrays the SUV’s size. It manages to stray on the right side of lightness though, not being so disconnected that you lose a feeling of where the wheels are pointing. No mean feat in something this shape.
Overall then, the D90 isn’t bad to drive and has some genuinely great characteristics, it just also has a litany of small issues that get in the way of it being truly competitive with segment leaders.
The CX-30 is awesome to drive. In a sea of lacklustre small SUVs, it’s instantly easy to connect with this Mazda. Yes, the engine and transmission here aren’t the most recent additions to the landscape, but they are predictable, smooth, and easy to deal with.
In fact, one thing Mazda is particularly good at is making its entire range feel homogenous in terms of the drive experience, maintaining the great dynamics which the brand has become synonymous with.
The touchpoints continue to be fantastic on the move. The steering feels light and easy to turn at low speeds, but becomes purposeful and full of feel at higher speeds.
The direct feedback on offer from the rack and the firm springs up front give a great handle on what the front wheels are doing.
The overall feel is firm and reactive, ready for action, and while not everyone will love the hard edge to the suspension, it helps the car feel springy and agile in the corners.
You can feel the Mazda 3 DNA on full display when you’re driving this car in haste, and it’s a kind of dynamism which most rivals can’t match, even if the Mazda’s drivetrain is feeling a little low-tech.
You certainly don’t need to worry about the six-speed transmission, which is a smooth-shifting unit.
There’s no glitchy behaviour on hills or from a stop like you might get in a dual-clutch, or rubbery surging under acceleration often delivered by a CVT, just the feeling of the car riding each gear out, and shifting between clearly defined ratios.
Drivers of older vehicles especially will appreciate its instantly familiar feel.
Ergonomically, it’s pretty straightforward, with the one major downside being the dial set-up. We like physical controls rather than touch controls, but Mazda has taken this to the extreme by not making the main multimedia screen a touch unit.
Instead, you’re forced to negotiate with phone mirroring software using a rotary dial, which is at best clumsy, and at worst distracting.
It’s also a tad difficult to see over this car’s high beltline, making it hard to tell where the corners are, front and rear, and a common Mazda problem is the wing mirrors which seem to have a zoom factor on them. Why? It limits your view into the lanes next to you.
Thankfully the active safety suite spends most of its time in the background and unlike some more recent offerings in the small SUV space, not interfering with the excellent drive experience.
The lane keep software is light handed, and the driver monitoring tech is more basic, which is honestly all you should need.
Overall then, the CX-30 is predictable, familiar, and has a fantastic quality to its handling which fits the Mazda brand promise.
Aside from a few blemishes then, it’s one of the best cars to drive in the segment, just don’t expect it to feel as cutting-edge as it could.
The LDV D90 carries a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating as of 2017, and has a fairly comprehensive active safety suite.
Included on the diesel is auto emergency braking (AEB) with front collision warning, lane-departure warning, blind-spot monitoring, driver-attention alert, traffic-sign recognition, and adaptive cruise control.
Not bad for the price, and nice that there’s nothing optional. Expected items include electronic traction, stability, and brake controls, as well as six airbags.
The curtain airbags do extend to the third row, and there’s the bonus of a reversing camera and a tyre-pressure-monitoring system.
There is a full-size steel spare under the boot floor, and the D90 also gets dual ISOFIX and three top-tether child-seat mounting points.
I love the lack of invasive safety tech in the CX-30, but that’s not to say this car lacks any of the required gear.
Active equipment includes freeway-speed auto emergency braking, lane keep assist with lane departure warning, blind-spot monitoring with rear- and front-cross traffic alert, adaptive cruise control, adaptive high-beams, driver attention alert, and traffic sign recognition.
You also score a very nice 360-degree parking camera and sensors, as well as a suite of seven airbags.
The CX-30 scored particularly highly across all of ANCAP’s testing criteria, with a particularly impressive 99 per cent in adult occupant protection. It achieved this rating in 2020.
LDV covers the D90 with a five-year/130,000km warranty, which is not bad… but falls behind sister brand MG, which offers seven years/unlimited kilometres. At the very least it would be nice to have the unlimited kilometre promise.
Roadside assist is included for the duration of that warranty, but there’s no capped price servicing offered through LDV. The brand gave us indicative pricing of $513.74, $667.15, and $652.64 for the first three annual services. An initial six-monthly 5000km checkup is free.
All D90s need to be serviced once every 12 months or 15,000km, whichever occurs first.
As with all Mazdas, the ownership proposition is pretty straightforward. There’s five years of warranty, five years of roadside assist, and five years of capped price servicing.
Service costs are pretty tame, too, with our front-drive G25 Astina working out to an average of $360 per year for the first five years.
You’ll need to visit a workshop once every 10,000km or 12 months, whichever comes first.