Mercedes-Benz C63 vs LDV G10

What's the difference?

The Mercedes-AMG C 63 S Aero Edition is an absolute beast of a car, but it comes at a pretty hefty price. Yes you get a lot of performance, and the fact there are only 63 examples being made for Australia and New Zealand could be enough to get you to sign on the line. For me, though, if I was after a C 63, it’d have to be a wagon. It doesn’t need an Aero pack to look better.

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. 

I’ve never been the biggest fan of the current C-Class Coupe’s styling. To me, it has always looked a little droopy, a little melted at the back. 

I have to say, the Aero Edition has changed my opinion somewhat, as the new graphic elements help lift it up a bit, visually raising its rear up like a stretching cat, tail in the air. I’m still not 100 per cent on it, but to my eye it’s better.

The carbon-fibre trim elements that have been added to the exterior certainly add some menace to the look, too, and I simply can’t help but constantly notice out of the corner of my eye the AMG pressing in the staggered, dished rims. At a glimpse, from a distance,  it looks like rim damage, but thankfully it’s not!

The staggered set-up does really add some width and mongrel to the look, as if it needed more, with its open maw lower bumper air dam, and the signature 'Panamericana' grille treatment which looks like an evil character out of a movie. If you know the one I’m talking about, let me know in the comments.

As much as the look matters when it’s parked in your driveway, it’s the cabin that arguably matters more, right? That’s where you spend your time, after all. Check out the interior images to see if you think it lives up to the exterior look.

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.

No two-door coupe is going to offer you the space and comfort of a sedan or wagon, that’s just a fact. But that only matters if you plan to actually use the rear seats. If you don’t, then the Coupe version of the C 63 S might be perfect for you.

Even so, I managed to (only just) squeeze myself between the seat and the door opening to slide into the rear row. This won’t be easily achieved by all attempters, especially on the driver’s side.

Let’s just say I probably looked like I was doing something very weird to the driver’s seat as I spider-manned my way in. 

The rear space is tight for someone my height (182cm/6’0”) behind their own driving position, with knees hard-up against the seat in front and not much headroom (my noggin’ was brushing the ceiling) or toe space (size 12s don’t fit so well) to speak of.

It’s certainly a selfish car. Or maybe it’d be fine for smaller kids. There are two spaces in the back, both with ISOFIX child seat anchors and top-tether points.

But there is storage in the back - cupholders and storage caddies either side of the seats, though the storage situation improves in the front zone, with bottle holders in the doors, cupholders between the seats, loose item storage under the media screen and a covered centre armrest bin, too.

The front cabin is a special looking place, with carbon-fibre abounding across the dash and nice trim on the doors. The AMG steering wheel is a sight to behold - it’s a flat-bottomed unit with carbon-fibre and Dinamica (that’s Benz talk for microsuede) trim: perfect for sapping sweat as you manhandle the C63 through the bends.

The seats are AMG Performance sports units up front, and the trim used is reserved for this model specifically: Nappa leather with yellow stripes. There are yellow details elsewhere, including on the rear seats, centre console and dash, and it certainly adds some visual excitement.

Media is controlled by a 10.25-inch display and Mercedes-Benz’s touchpad control system, but there is no touchscreen - rendering the Apple CarPlay and Android Auto smartphone mirroring technology somewhat tedious.

I’ve always had a gripe with screens that don’t allow touch but feature the tech that’s designed to transfer your phone’s screen to the media unit, and I can tell you the longer you spend twiddling the dial to get where you want to go, the more annoying it becomes.

The Burmester sound system has 13 speakers and is rather good, but I prefer the sound from the standard fit variable sports exhaust. So maybe that quibble with CarPlay isn’t that big a deal.

And if you just want to charge your phone, and there’s a second USB port up front, as well. Note: in non-Aero Edition C 63 models without the carbon-fibre interior pack, you also get Qi wireless phone charging, but it’s deleted from this variant and any model with the carbon pack.

The driver has a 12.3-inch digital info display to show where you are and what the car is up to, and there’s a head-up display as well. Yep, there’s standard sat nav with live traffic updates (and even live fuel price updates) - it’s just a shame the maps still look early 2000s-spec in 2D layout.

Cargo space is okay. The claimed cargo capacity or boot volume is 355 litres (VDA) with the rear seats in place. That’s small for a coupe of this size, and the shape of the boot (with a hump behind the rear seat) isn’t great as things do move around quite a bit.

But, thankfully, Mercedes has included its clever foldable storage box system under the boot floor - it goes where you might usually expect a spare wheel, but there isn’t one in this car. Instead you get Mercedes’ 'Tirefit' repair kit with an electric pump.

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.

Open the shapely bonnet of the C 63 S and you’ll find a hand-assembled horsepower-monster engine with a printed name plaque to prove it.

The 4.0-litre twin-turbo V8 produces 375kW of power at 6250rpm, and 700Nm of torque from 2000-4500rpm. It runs a standard-fit nine-speed 'Speedshift MCT' (multi-clutch transmission) automatic, and it’s rear-wheel drive. And yes, that means it likes to boogie.

The claimed 0-100km/h time is just 3.9 seconds, and top speed is apparently pegged at 250km/h. Yeesh.

The name on the “Handcrafted by” plaque on this particular engine? Hat tip to you, Julian Rembold. This is quite a piece of work. 

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. 

High numbers are what AMGs are about. Sadly that’s the case not only for performance outputs but also fuel consumption.

The official combined cycle fuel use claim for the C 63 S Coupe is 10.3 litres per 100 kilometres, and you need to fill it with 98RON premium unleaded fuel, too.

On test? Well, across a mix of different driving - urban, highway, back road and spirited stints - I saw an 'at the pump' return of 12.2L/100km, while the digital readout stated 12.0L/100km.

Given the performance on offer, and how much I took advantage of it during my week with the car, that’s not bad…

Fuel tank capacity is 66 litres. So go easy if you know there won’t be a fuel stop for a while.

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.

Just one word sprang to my mind when it comes to accurately describing the performance on offer from this car. The word is ‘brutal’.

Smash the accelerator and the power and torque on offer is enough to make your eyes feel like they’re not doing the right thing anymore. You get pushed back in your seat with a surge, and your ears are also rewarded with one of the best soundtracks in the automotive world. 

The engine builds pace with enormous intent, and the sound that comes from under the bonnet and out the back through the exhausts is addictive.

Yes, there is an active exhaust button which you have to press to make sure that you hear all that noise if you’re running around in 'Comfort' mode, and during my time with the car it was active the whole time.

I had some questions from neighbours over the week that I had this car about whether it was actually nice to live with on a day-to-day basis. And the answer is yes, if you put it in comfort mode it’s surprisingly amenable. 

The ride is really well sorted at pace despite having a bit of that trademark low-speed wobble that seems to afflict Mercedes products from A-Class through to the GLE SUV. But it wasn’t bad enough to really bother me, as most of my time was on highways and backroads.

The steering is direct and accurate. The only thing you need to be aware of is that you will lose traction at the rear axle when you put your foot down hard. And for the enthusiast that’s exactly what you want. 

I know I want to feel the thing squirm under throttle. It’s a rear-drive V8 coupe, after all. You want to feel like you’re a vein in its bicep muscle; you know, the one you see in a weightlifter’s arms – the one that wiggles around a lot. You want to have that. Right?

On the performance front it is exceptional. Twist the little dial on the wheel to 'Sport' or 'Sport+' (I didn’t sample 'Race' mode as I wasn’t at a racetrack), and everything feels like it’s had a protein shake.

Even so, in that mode it steers brilliantly, there's a nice feel through the wheel, and the ride, while stiff, controls the body brilliantly when you change directions. 

The transmission is very good, too. In Comfort mode it can take just a second or two at first to become accustomed to the idea that you want to drive aggressively.

But in Sport mode, or when you select the manual transmission mode using the trigger button on the steering wheel, you will certainly get the most out of the engine. That’s what I did when I was driving it in a ‘spirited’ manner.

If you are just after that high-end Coupe cruiser experience, it’s a relatively quiet car (provided the surface below isn’t the coarsest of coarse-chip bitumen), with enough luxuriousness to make it feel premium as well as sporty. That’s an important thing to consider, especially at this price point.

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.

Mercedes-Benz is among the minority of luxury brands now offering a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty plan - most still have three-year cover. So that’s a tick.

And the service intervals are pegged at 12 months/20,000km. Another tick.

Plus you can either pre-pay your service plan in three-year ($3800), four-year ($6000) or five-year ($6550) plans - roll it into the finance package, and it won’t hurt quite as much.

According to Mercedes, the three-year coverage option makes for a $900 discount over pay-as-you-go servicing.

Roadside assistance covers the five-year new car warranty period, too. So Mercedes seemingly takes good care of its customers. But if you have any concerns or questions over reliability, problems, issues or complaints about the C 63, check out our AMG C 63 problems page.

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.