LDV T60 vs Mercedes-Benz V-Class

What's the difference?

The Max Plus brings a lot of welcome upgrades to the T60 range, particularly in its previously non-existent active safety suite, but it’s not all good news. There are still a few areas where this ageing ute could use a lot of polish.

Still, there’s something to be said for how refreshingly straightforward much of it is, and for the most part its specs and features are up to the task of competing with many more expensive alternatives.

The Mercedes-Benz V-Class, and in particular the Mercedes-Benz V220d, lives up to the notion of a luxury people-mover – for the most part. The leaking door is a concern, but may be confined to this vehicle only.

But in most every other way it has the whole prestige bus thing sorted. There is no denying that a more affordable van from a less, shall we say, desirable brand would do just as good a job.

But if you need to be seen to be offering the most luxurious people-mover you can buy in Australia, then you really ought to be looking at the V-Class…. just maybe go for the V250d, if the budget can stretch that far.

The T60 Max Plus takes the visage of a factory-kitted version of the existing T60 Plus. The most notable difference this time around is the unique gloss black grille design which features a new spot to hide the front radar array for the safety suite, alongside new gloss wheel designs and that huge sports bar fitting atop the tray.

To my eye at least the T60 looks a fair bit more rugged and industrial than most of its rivals, which with every iteration are looking more like passenger vehicles than work-ready utes. Still, there’s an aggressiveness to its contrast black trims and tall ride height which may appeal to some. For others it will be more function-over-form, with less bumper overhang than something like the SsangYong Musso and there’s something to be said for that, too, I suppose.

Inside is where this Max Plus version sets itself apart from the rest of the range with its abundance of screen real-estate, upgraded materials, and an almost EV-like centre console treatment.

It’s certainly more digital-feeling and contemporary than the rest of the T60 range, but it might lose some of the simple but rugged appeal of its interior as a result.

The screens look pretty slick, especially when you’re using phone mirroring to hide the otherwise clumsy stock software suite. It’s one thing to have nice big screens, it’s quite another to have slick, attractive, and customisable software to match.

Sadly, that’s not the case for the Max Plus, which offers one lacklustre look and feel for the dash cluster, paired with an array of confusing menus on the multimedia screen.

This doesn’t look like your everyday Mercedes-Benz commercial van – the V-Class is certainly more at home parked in the driveway of a luxury hotel than alongside the back door in the alley behind it. 

Admittedly it isn’t as attractive as the Avantgarde flagship, but it has the whole Benz ‘family look’ thing going on, with a stylish grille, swept headlights and a streamlined body. A box on wheels it may be, but it’s a box with nicely rounded edges.

The 17-inch, five-spoke alloy wheels are plain, and the halogen headlights and daytime running lights don’t have quite the same wow factor as the LED units in the high-end model, but it wears that Benz badge loud and proud. And the extremely dark tinted rear windows ensure the privacy of your occupants, as well as giving off the vibe of high-end plush.

I know it’s hard to stray from the formula for a van, but I particularly like the back end of the V-Class – it is reminiscent of the original Vito, with low, broad-set tail-lights and a near-flat backside with a huge tailgate, which doubles as an awning to stand under if the weather is a bit Melbourne. 

The interior is typical Benz, or, in the case of the V220d, Benz on a slight budget.

There are some benefits of the new interior design, and there are some disappointments too. These begin with the seating position, which is still miles off the ground in its lowest setting. This might give you a commanding view of the road, which has benefits, but it also makes you feel like you’re sitting on the T60 rather than in it.

The steering wheel is also only pitch adjustable rather than also offering telescopic adjustment, and even then its range of movement is extremely limited. For me, at 182cm tall, this meant the wheel blocked the top of the digital instruments, and I also felt like I was far too close to the roof. It’s an awkward seating position to say the least.

However, the new cabin layout has quite a bit of storage to play with. There are functional bottle holders and pockets in the doors, a decent glove box, and the new centre console offers a huge tray underneath with a removable dual cup holder insert, which also has two little cutaways for storing your keys. This area also hides some USB ports and a 12-volt outlet, for a nice cable-free interior if need be. The armrest console box offers even more space, and the wireless phone charger perched atop the console area is a welcome touch.

Less impressive is the strip of touch-based controls for the climate which sits underneath the multimedia screen. At least it has some controls which don’t require a screen sub-menu to navigate, but it simply doesn’t compare to having actual buttons and dials.

The most puzzling part of this equation is the lack of physical controls of any kind for the headlights, and no way for the passenger to adjust volume without needing to go one or two sub-menus deep. Inconvenient at best, potentially dangerously distracting at worst.

Again, some rivals get an edge here. The Musso’s multimedia suite looks comparatively old, but has heaps of physical buttons, while the GWM Ute Cannon splits the difference, maintaining buttons but gaining confusing menus. Both are better to use than the T60.

The back seat came as a surprise, as it offers pretty decent legroom for a full-sized adult, something quite rare in this ute segment. It also offers pockets on the backs of both front seats, dual adjustable air vents and a USB port on the back of the centre console, two small bottle holders in the doors, and a further two in a centre drop-down armrest. Underneath the seats there’s access points to small storage areas below.

The tray area seems reasonably well appointed with a pre-applied spray-in tub liner and four tie-down points at the extremes of the bed. The tub dimensions come in at 1485mm long, 1131mm wide (between the arches), and 530mm tall for the standard version. The Mega Tub variant extends the length to 1800mm. Payload for the tray is 840kg for the manual, 830kg for the auto, and 800kg for the Mega Tub.

Interestingly, despite its new coil-sprung rear, the T60 Max Plus maintains its 3000kg braked towing capacity, which isn’t the 3500kg industry standard, but is pretty close.

These specs mean the standard tray version is slightly larger than the Ssangyong Musso with a slightly higher payload, although it can tow 500kg less. It has a lower payload and a smaller tray than the GWM Ute, although it can tow about the same amount.

With the optional eight-seat setup, it’d be hard to think of this van as impractical. And if you consider that it also has a boot capacity of 1030L in its most downsized form (and 4630L with the rear seats removed), any argument seems null and void.

The fact the boot is electrically operated, and that it has a separate tailgate glass opening section, and that you can open the boot using the keyfob – not to mention the kerbside door – just adds to the pragmatic appeal of this van.

The six rear seat backs can all be flattened down, and you can tumble them forward, too – the kerbside seats in a one-by-one motion, the driver’s side ones tumble two-at-a-time. It takes a bit of muscle to do those ones.

Essentially you can set it up as a parcel van if you want, or even as a mobile office – the rear seats can be configured to face each other, in ‘conference’ style. But you need to know that this isn’t an easy process, and once you’ve got it set how you want it, you’ll probably end up just leaving it as is.

Loose-item storage isn’t great, but at least the door pockets are large enough for some bottles and documents.

No matter which way you like it, those in the back will have good ventilation (it has a three-zone climate control system with a separate fan controller in the back above the second-row seats), and a decent amount of space. Crucially, there are no cup or bottle-holders, nor any loose item storage in the back two rows – there are mesh nets on the backrests of the very front seats, but that’s it.

If you plan to use this as a mover of smaller people, the V-Class’s child-seat anchor-point game will not disappoint. It has four ISOFIX anchors (two in each row) and six top tether points – yep, every spot in the back!

Up front there’s a problem with the cup-holder situation, too – there are two, but they’re way down on the floor, meaning it’s hard to access your cuppa on the move. In fact, loose-item storage isn’t great, but at least the door pockets are large enough for some bottles and documents. There’s a sunglass holder, too. The little media screen is a bit disappointing in its size, and the Comand controller codpiece that juts out from the centre console can take some getting used to.

Connecting and reconnecting a phone isn’t too difficult (although you have to pair audio streaming separately to phone streaming – which is weird), and there’s no extended smartphone capability such as Apple CarPlay or Android Auto. Using the navigation system is very simple, but the graphics are extremely aftermarket looking – that’s no bad thing, because Benz’s maps always looked a bit 1990s, but these ones are somewhat cartoonish.

There are two V-Class models you can buy;  this newly added V220d variant, at $74,990, or the high-spec V250d Avantgarde, which is listed at $87,200.

That’s a pretty huge difference, especially considering you get plenty of equipment in the lower-spec version. To get a better understanding, let’s list off what’s standard, and what you get if you fork out the extra $12,210 for the top model.

The V220d has a 7.0-inch media screen with Garmin maps, dual USB ports, Bluetooth phone and audio streaming, auto headlights and wipers, DAB+ digital radio, CD, auxiliary and SD input, electric parking brake, electric front-seat adjustment with memory settings, cruise control, colour driver information screen with digital speedometer, black leather trim and sports pedals.

There’s three-zone climate control and velour floor mats up front, too, while parking moves are made easy with the brand’s Active Parking Assist system, which can semi-autonomously park the van for you. Other niceties include front and rear parking sensors, a reversing camera, dark tinted rear glass, heated/folding/auto-dimming side mirrors, and electric side doors and tailgate (with opening glass section).

Stepping up to the V250d sees the addition of a 15-speaker Burmester sound system, ambient lighting (three colours), a higher-resolution 8.0-inch media screen with integrated Wi-Fi hotspot and online access and navigation with live traffic updates, a 360-degree surround-view camera, adaptive cruise control, illuminated door sills in stainless steel, a rear parcel shelf, 18-inch alloy wheels, anodised roof rails, a body kit, chrome exterior trimming, LED adaptive headlights with automated high-beam and LED daytime running lights, and tyre-pressure monitoring.

There’s some separation between the two in terms of engines as well – see below for more detail on that.

And for a little bit of context, there are no other luxury-branded people-movers out there. Buyers may consider alternatives like the Volkswagen Multivan Executive at $83,390 (wait, how much?), but in all honesty, if you can forego the badge and just want space for your money, the Kia Carnival Platinum ($61,290) offers a considerably better value equation.

The car we tested had the optional roof rails ($649) and parking system with surround-view camera ($616) fitted, and was an eight-seat model rather than a seven-seater, which adds $1346 to the price.

The T60 Max range lays claim to one of the most powerful 2.0-litre four-cylinder diesel engines - a bi-turbo unit producing 160kW/500Nm with peak torque arriving from 1500rpm.

It is mated to either a six-speed manual, or an eight-speed ZF-sourced torque converter automatic transmission.

It has a 2H, 4H, and 4L selector (alongside an automatic setting for the Plus Max), and is equipped with a rear differential locker (which can only operate below 30km/h).

For those looking to venture well beyond the tarmac the T60 Max Plus has a 27-degree approach angle, a 24-degree departure angle, 220mm of ground clearance, and a 19-degree rampover angle. Wading depth is 550mm, and it has a 12.7-meter kerb-to-kerb turning circle.

Both the V220d and V250d are powered by 2.1-litre turbo diesel engines, but in differing states of tune.

The V220d has 120kW of power and 380Nm of torque, while the V250d pumps out 140kW and 440Nm. Those figures are decent given the capacity of the engine, and to help keep fuel use down it has stop-start, sadly it’s a bit grumbly and overactive.

Both run seven-speed automatic transmissions and are rear-wheel drive. The Benz vans have strong towing capability, with an unbraked towing capacity of 750kg, while it can deal with braked trailers up to 2500kg.

The official combined fuel consumption of the diesel-only Max Plus is 9.3L/100km for the manual or 8.9L/100km for the automatic.

With over 500km of testing with plenty of freeway miles, our automatic example produced an as-tested number of 9.3L/100km.

Mercedes-Benz claims that over a mix of urban and highway driving, the V-Class will return 6.3 litres per 100km, no matter whether you choose the V220d or the V250d – which is pretty good given the thing is long (5140mm), wide (1928mm) and relatively heavy (almost two tonnes).

Over a lengthy drive in the V220d – some of it on a twisty mountain road, some in stop-start traffic, most on the freeway – I managed 7.2L/100km. This will rise with added bodies, but not by much.

The T60 Max Plus has improved the formula in a few ways, but still feels a bit rudimentary in others.

The awkward seating position does provide quite a commanding view of the road, and makes it easy to gauge where the end of the bonnet is. This is useful parking in a city, but will also have benefits off the road. The 360-degree camera suite also helps with this manoeuvrability.

Interestingly the steering is quite good. This Max Plus is the only variant to score a fully electric power steering rack, as opposed to the lesser power assisted steering rack. It’s initially alarmingly light, but it also makes the T60 a breeze to steer unlike some utes in this class, and I was surprised to find it still had a sufficient amount of feel to give it confidence in the corners.

Yes, this is one of the most powerful 2.0-litre diesels, but it doesn’t feel particularly overwhelming to drive. The transmission, too, despite the brand bragging about its ZF sourcing, feels a bit transparent and rudimentary lumping through the gears with a degree of clumsiness. Still, it’s predictable and does what it says on the tin.

The same goes for the 4H and even ‘automatic’ 4x4 settings, which I found was surprisingly quick to activate if you started slipping on mud or wet tarmac.

Another less than impressive trait is the amount of sound produced. Supposedly this Pro Max version has additional sound deadening over the other variants, and yet the clatter of the diesel engine proved a constant in the cabin at freeway speeds or any time you needed to accelerate hard.

This particular version of the T60 should also feature an improved ride compared to its relations thanks to swapping the leaf sprung rear suspension out for coils, but I was surprised to find it was still quite stiff. No doubt this inherent hardness is down maintaining the same towing capacity. It makes it a bit jiggly when you drive it over the regular sort of road imperfections and corrugations. One wonders what the point of having coil spring suspension is at all if it’s going to feel more or less the same as leaf sprung alternatives.

One area that was particularly pleasing to me was the way the new active safety equipment wasn't overly invasive. There were a few moments where the lane keep tech intervened a bit too hard, but it’s pretty hands off as far as the rest of the systems go.

Overall then it does what it says on the tin, and is surprisingly easy to steer, although it doesn’t really excel at anything, which can be a hard sell in an environment where many utes are more passenger car like than ever.

My drive saw me chauffeur my partner and our dog down to Cooma, where we then took my parents down the coast. We put the V-Class’s flexible seating to the test, as we had to buy a massive bathtub and bring it back with us. This proved that, although this thing is a luxury van, it can also be a hugely practical delivery van.

The comfort on offer was perhaps the biggest advantage for my passengers – with superb suspension composure, ride comfort and body control, the V-Class is like a big boxy limousine.

It won’t set your heart racing in corners as there’s quite a lot of body roll to contend with, but the steering is direct and very nicely weighted, making for easy progress whether you’re piloting it down a mountain pass or dealing with roundabouts or parking lots. The turning circle is small, which in turn makes the van feel smaller than it actually is.

The brakes can feel a little numb underfoot, meaning you might find yourself pushing a little harder on the pedal than you think you ought to. The response is good, though, even with weight on board.

The extra, effortless grunt of the V250d would be advantageous.

What was a little surprising was a lack of torque at higher speeds for overtaking moves. On a slightly sloping country back road with four adults on board, I expected there to be well and truly enough for a quick overtaking move – but the drivetrain didn’t quite have the grunt to get the job done. At least, not in the Comfort drive mode.

By using the ‘Dynamic’ drive selector and choosing Sport mode, there was extra push on offer – the gearing changed, and so did the throttle response – and that made overtaking moves a little easier. But still, the extra, effortless grunt of the V250d would be advantageous, and I know I wouldn’t like having to play with the drive-mode switch every time I overtook. Just leave it in Sport mode? You’ll pay the price on fuel use. 

Around town the seven-speed auto went about its job really well, offering smooth shifts in all situations. The transmission can clunk when you engage park or shift to reverse, though, which isn’t overly premium, and there is some turbo lag that you’ll have to remember when you prepare to take off from traffic lights. Another thing that didn’t necessarily persuade my passengers of the premiumness on offer was the fact that the kerbside door leaked when it was raining. Not good.

The V-Class has been awarded the highest possible ANCAP crash test score of five stars – it achieved that in 2014, based on a EuroNCAP score that was put through local screening.

It has plenty of safety kit to keep your mind at ease – whether you’re a driver or passenger.

There are six airbags, including full-length curtain coverage, and the V-Class has a reversing camera with dynamic guide lines, an adaptive electronic stability control system (ESP) with load sensitivity and cross-wind assist, rollover mitigation, trailer-sway control (when fitted with a genuine Benz towbar), hill-hold assist, flashing brake lights under emergency braking and driver-drowsiness detection.

There are other handy features, including auto headlights and rain-sensing wipers, auto-dimming interior and exterior mirrors, forward collision warning (not AEB), blind-spot monitoring, lane-keeping assist (but not with steering intervention).

You’ve got spend up to the V250d to get the adaptive cruise control system, but there’s still no AEB on that variant.

LDV continues to have a confusing array of ownership terms across its range. In the case of the T60, it’s seven years and 200,000km, with five years of roadside assist.

It is also one of the only brands on the market not offering any kind of capped-price service program, so it’s a mystery how much it will cost to run. Servicing is required once every 12 months or 15,000km.

Mercedes-Benz Vans backs the V-Class with a three-year/200,000km warranty plan, which is good.

The company has also introduced a new capped-price servicing plan for the V-Class, with maintenance due every 12 months or 25,000km, whichever occurs first. The fact the distance intervals are so far apart could be a bonus for business operators, but the costs are high: the first service costs $556, then the following two visits will set you back $1112 each time. Yikes.

A longer capped-price plan with lower prices would make this van a lot more attractive to business owners. A Kia Carnival could make a lot of sense in that regard, too – even business operators get a seven-year/150,000km warranty with a seven-year/105,000km capped-price plan, and the same cover for roadside assist.