Mini Cooper vs Cub Campers Longreach LE

What's the difference?

The new petrol Cooper range very gently evolves the upmarket Cool Britannia cliché BMW invented with the R50 back in 2001 and fostered with every iteration since.

More of the same, only slightly updated and just improved enough to justify trading the old one in. If this appeals to you, then go for it. This is the best petrol version yet. Probably.

But the Cooper’s real spark literally and metaphorically lies within the EV version.

Two very different Minis indeed.

Note: CarsGuide attended this event as a guest of the manufacturer, with meals provided.

This isn’t the camper for everyone – my guess is that plenty of people look at this and find it too sparse, too basic. I kinda get it.

But there are very few campers which offer the same amount of open, internal space, or that are as easy to set up.

That the Longreach, albeit with a few different names, has lasted so long on the Cub Campers' product roster is a testament to its versatility and ability to accommodate a small family on off-road camper trips.

It's arguably one of the forerunners of the hybrid camper scene, and it's now starting to evolve with campers' desires for more comfort.

The previous Mini 3DR featured a messy and quite overbearing dashboard design from 2013 that’s aged about as well as Robin Thicke’s videos from that year.

In contrast, the new model's is far simpler and less protruding, dramatically boosting the sense of space and light.

That said, all four occupants still sit low, with an upright windscreen ahead and beside high window sills. There’s an oversized, circular screen in the middle of a pared-back dash and a neat row of toggle switches below. It’s still pure Mini in theme.

As before, there’s enough space for even the tallest people up front, reflecting the British icon’s German packaging, with plenty of head and legroom, as well as ample width. It’s only when you jump from the EV to the petrol Cooper that you realise this feels noticeably narrower.

All Coopers regardless of fuel share the 240mm (9.4-inch) central OLED display. It might seem like visual overload at first glance, with so much going on, but after a brief period of familiarisation, the touchscreen becomes a cinch to decipher and navigate. The colour-coded driving modes, pleasingly slick screen swipe action and ultra-crisp graphics are especially noteworthy.

Revel, too, in the twist engine starter and toggle gear selector actions, that also save space and are super natural to operate. This is button-lite dashboard de-cluttering done right.

As with the previous model, the Mini’s driving position has you sitting upright, but it’s comfortable enough on the S’ sports seats we sampled this on, and everything is within reach. There’s sufficient storage. The ambient mood lighting is fun. And kudos for the deployment of animal-free materials. In fact, the Cooper’s fresh textures are quite remarkable.

We’re less fond of the glass roof with no sunlight block; there are blind spots due to the thick side pillars; and some of the lower-placed plastics do not seem $60K’s worth in a supermini this expensive.

Rear-seat access isn’t graceful, with a narrow aperture to squeeze past and a slow-moving electric seat to wait for, but that should surprise nobody given this car’s size. There’s enough space for two adults and not much else really. It’s pretty basic back there.

And even further back, Mini quotes just 210 litres VDA of luggage capacity, rising to 725L with the twin backrests dropped.

Don’t forget, though, that no spare wheel exists. Just an ever-fiddly tyre repair kit.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the Cooper…

For a rear-fold camper-trailer, the space inside couldn't be more practical. The long body and high sides mean that when the camper is open and set up, it has a lot more space than most. Behind the bed, for instance, there is enough space for Cub to have fit a small dinette.

The dinette has cushioned benches for two and a swivel table that can also become a counter over the rear floor area.

The camper's length also means that the rear floor area is massive. It is easily big enough to lie a couple of kids on, or if your nest is empty, to set up some camp chairs and a table to enjoy a covered living area.

It is still a rear-fold camper-trailer, though so, despite the fact it has nearly twice the space of other hybrid-style campers, it's very sparsely furnished. There's no internal kitchenette or anything like that.

So far, similarities in design, packaging, dashboard presentation and suspension layout suggest that the electric Cooper and petrol Cooper would be like fraternal twins from behind the wheel.

But in reality, the petrol-powered Mini feels much the same as the previous model, whilst the EV is more akin to what we secretly wish the fantasy Tesla Model 1 would be like. From the future.

Now, we never had a chance to drive the Cooper C, but the closely-related (though larger and heavier) Countryman C sibling – complete with the same powertrain – proved to be a willing and feisty performer once on the go, after what seemed like protracted turbo and DCT lag.

Why the hell can’t Mini just offer manuals again?

The Cooper S, meanwhile, completely lived up to brand expectations, with the familiar, revvy snarl of BMW’s sophisticated 2.0-litre four-pot turbo providing punchy of throttle response and effortless cruising capability, though there’s still some initial acceleration hesitation.

Thankfully, the Mini’s steering is always alert, offering precision and agility by the bucketful, backed up a chassis that seems permanently glued to the road – even in the wet and wintry conditions we had to endure.

Yet, other than a ride quality that seemed better than any previous-gen Mini we’ve ever encountered and so genuinely surprised us, the Cooper S seemed a little… stale compared to the glorious SE EV we had just (reluctantly) surrendered.

A bit like having a favourite dish as leftovers for two nights in a row, it felt a bit passé in 2024, even when surrounded by that dazzling OLED dash and glitzy ambient lighting.

In every important metric – performance, handling, roadholding, ride quality, packaging and (particularly) refinement – the battery-powered Cooper is the more vibrant and alive option. And truer to the vision of the original’s creator, Alec Issigonis, as a result.

Cub Campers are famously good to tow, and even the largest of them lives up to the reputation.

As big as it is, the Longreach LE is quite light thanks to the effort Cub puts into engineering. As a result, it's not a strain, even for older dual-cabs like the D22 Navara.

And because it isn't any higher or wider than a modern SUV, there was very little wind-drag or buffeting as we cruised along the highway.

Cub developed the camper's Australian-made and -designed independent, coil-spring suspension and the set-up yields excellent ride in any conditions.

For the LE, Cub has added an extra shock-absorber each side to improve its performance even on the most corrugated roads.

An AL-KO off-road ball hitch is standard but can be upgraded to the Click-Lock version if you'd prefer that or need a more low-profile hitch. 

In reverse, the long drawbar makes it an easy camper to manoeuvre around a campsite, plus it has enough size that the tow-vehicle driver never really loses sight of it while positioning it.