Renault Master vs LDV Terron 9

What's the difference?

If you’re after a budget-conscious offering in the large van segment, the Renault Master could be a really solid proposition. It falls short of the safety expectations set by its newer rival, though, and that’s something you might not be able to put a price on.

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.

The front-end styling of the Master has been modernised with a “robust” new look which sees it adopt a more upright nose with a bulkier grille, squared-off headlights (with LED daytime running lights as standard, along with halogen headlights).

There were no other changes made to the exterior, so if you see it side on or from the rear, you’d be hard pressed to tell if it's the new model.

This is the second facelift for this generation (X62) Master, which originated back in 2010. It is also offered in some markets as a Nissan, Opel, and Vauxhall. And this version certainly freshens up the appearance, though the practicality of the Master line-up remains unchanged.

That’s a good thing: you can still get the van as a short-wheelbase with low roof (L1H1), a mid-wheelbase with mid roof (L2H2), a long-wheelbase with mid roof (L3H2), or an extra-long-wheelbase with high roof (L4H3). There’s also the choice of a single cab-chassis Platform ute model, too. 

Our test model is the L2H2, meaning dimensions of 5575mm long on a lengthy 3682mm wheelbase (giving it a 13.6-metre turning circle), while the width is 2070mm and the height is 2499mm. Too tall for car parks (and drive-thru windows, in this age of social distancing). 

The good news about the height, though, is that it allows you excellent interior dimensions. The cargo hold of this version is 3083mm long, 1765mm wide (and 1380mm between the wheel-arches, enough for Aussie pallets to slide in easily), and the height is 1894mm inside. I’m six-foot tall (1820mm) and that meant I could safely step in and out of the cargo zone without fear of hitting my head. The load space is 10.8 cubic metres in this spec. 

As you’ll see in the interior section, the cabin has been given a bit of attention too - you can see it in the images below.

While the Terron 9 remains a ladder-chassis design with the body plonked on top (just like traditional four-wheel drives and most other dual-cabs) there is one important departure in design terms. And it’s one that rules out a whole sub-class of this type of vehicle.

Because the body sides are one piece in the Terron, with no gap between the rear bulkhead and the tray, there’s no way to turn the thing into a cab-chassis with a drop-side tray or service body. Yes, you can add a canopy to the existing design (LDV is working on its accessory line-up for the Terron right now) but there’s no cab-chassis variant now or in the works.

That might seem a bit odd, but when you consider the vast majority of dual-cabs are, in fact, styleside utes, maybe the sales hit won’t be a huge one. That’s especially so when you consider many of the Chinese utes rely on private buyers, not fleet customers, for their sales volumes. And in any case, says LDV, the way the body is constructed allows for a little more rear seat legroom and a touch more cargo space length for the same overall length. Which the company believes is a trade-off worth sticking with.

There’s also been a clear brief for the Terron 9 to make a visual statement. While it’s dimensions put it somewhere between the mainstream dual-cabs and the full-sized American pick-ups we see, the styling definitely leans towards the latter. The grille is huge, the vertical tail-lights very Stateside and the whole thing looks imposing. I’ll personally draw the line at attractive, but it’s definitely imposing.

The most adventurous piece of interior design must be the electronic door handles which need just a simple press to open the doors. There’s a manual, cable-operated door opener hidden in each door pocket if things go wrong electrically at some stage.

Like all vans in this segment there are some cabin smarts that will make your life a lot easier if you spend a lot of time in the cockpit.

There are storage options aplenty, including overhead folder holders, a trio of dash-top storage caddies, dash-top cup holders, huge door pockets with bottle holders, some smaller storage cubbies near the shifter, and a glovebox that is, in the French tradition, good to hold a pair of gloves and not much else. This model had the dual passenger bench seat, with a hidden storage section underneath, and you can fold the middle seat down to form a desk platform with cup holders if that’s what you need.

Along with the storage smarts, the updated Master has seen some major changes in terms of infotainment intelligence, too. The new 7.0-inch MediaNav touchscreen system with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto is a welcome advancement for the brand, and during my time in the vehicle it proved simple to use and quick to react. The sound isn’t terrific, with just two speakers fitted, and I had to turn it up pretty loud to overcome the wind noise from this mid-roof model.

The driver’s seat is comfortable and offers decent adjustment, with height and lumbar adjustment. It’s easy to step up into the cab, too, despite there not being side grab handles. The driver also gets a new digital instrument display section on the redesigned dashboard, which includes a gear-shift indicator (but not a gear position indicator), and a digital speedometer and trip computer.

The steering wheel is new, too, and it’s much nicer than the old grainy plastic number in the pre-facelift version. Gone are the round vents across the dash and round plastic sections of the old model - now there are squared-off, more modern looking finishes that clearly aim to mimic the exterior’s now boxy-edged body.

In the cargo zone there are multiple tie-down hooks (eight on the floor, four on the side wall pillars), making for plenty of options to secure a load - though as can often be found with these eye-hook points, they can be a little too far inboard to make good use of, and in the Master’s case, there are no tie-down points rear of the wheel-arches. There is a 12-volt outlet in the back pillar, however.

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.

The Terron 9 will be available initially in entry-level Origin specification and, following that in the next few weeks, a plusher Evolve variant with a mixed bag of additions, some of which extend its off-road appeal, and some of which don’t.

Kicking off with the $50,990 Origin (drive-away for ABN holders) or $53,674 drive-away for private buyers, the range then ramps up to the Evolve model at $55,990 for ABN holders and $58,937 drive-away for private buyers. But if you are an ABN holder and you get in quick, there’s $1000 discount on both grades as a launch deal.

The base vehicle is equipped with 18-inch alloy wheels with a highway-oriented tyre as opposed to the more off-roady All Terrains some competitors use. A tow-bar is standard kit as are LED headlights, a tailgate helper spring, wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto phone connectivity, roof rails, twin 12.3-inch digital screens, automatic headlights, six-way powered font seats, rain-sensing wipers, front and rear parking sensors and a 360-degree camera system.

Clues that this is the entry-level car come in the form of the cloth upholstery and the four-speaker sound system, although the standard paddle shifters suggest otherwise.

Move up to the Evolve (when it arrives) and you’ll be adding 20-inch alloy wheels and tyres fitted with similar on-road oriented rubber to match. Sure, the 20s are blingy, but they won’t do anything for off-road ability. More relevant perhaps, is the addition of a front differential lock to join the rear locker standard on the base version.

On the luxe front, the Evolve adds eight-way adjustment for the powered front seats, heating and ventilation for those chairs as well as a massage function, heating for the rear seat, an eight-speaker stereo, ambient lighting, auto-folding exterior mirrors, and a trailer back-up assistance program.

Given the price-tag, the LDV puts up a strong value-for-money argument. Very few dual-cab utes at this price-point offer disc brakes on all four wheels, nor a standard tow-bar. And some of the ones that do supply only the hitch receiver, while LDV supplies the receiver, hitch and wiring loom.

The power outputs and torque figures depend on the transmission you choose. 

Despite the fact that both manual and automatic versions of the Master run a 2.3-litre four-cylinder diesel engine, there’s a difference between the engines: the version with the six-speed manual transmission is a twin-turbo unit, while the six-speed automated manual transmission makes use of a single-turbo diesel.

There’s not much in it when it comes to the difference in outputs, however.

The manual version has a slight horsepower advantage, with 120kW of power (at 3500rpm) and 360Nm of torque (at 1500rpm).

The automated manual has a maximum power of 110kW (at 3500rpm) and 350Nm of torque (at 1500rpm).

Both transmissions are geared the same across all six ratios, though from experience, the automated manual is best left at the showroom. While rivals offer conventional torque converter automatic gearboxes to appeal to a broader customer base globally, the French brand persists with its pernickety somewhat-auto option instead.

The majority of models in the Master range are front-wheel drive (FWD), but there are a couple of long-wheelbase rear-wheel drive (RWD) models available. None are all-wheel drive (AWD) or four-wheel drive (4WD).

You might be interested to note the weight specs for the Master range. There are too many variables to bore you with here, but the details on the L2H2 mid-wheelbase manual I tested, according to Renault Australia, are as follows: kerb weight - 1887kg; gross vehicle mass/GVM - 3510kg; payload - 1623kg; towing capacity - 750kg un-braked, 2500kg braked. The gross combination mass (GCM) is 6000kg.

While peak outputs of both the Terron 9 and its smaller stablemate T60 seem similar on paper, in actual mechanical terms, there are a few important differences.

While the T60 uses a 2.0-litre four-cylinder diesel with a pair of turbochargers, the Terron 9 is, on paper, a bit more simplified, but a lot newer in design terms. It’s a 2.5-litre unit, but reverts to a single turbocharger for a power peak of 163kW (three up on the T60, at slightly lower revs) and max torque of 520Nm (20 more). Fuel economy should be about line-ball with the T60 (more of that later).

Like the T60, the Terron 9 features an independent, coil-spring front end, but loses the T60 Plus’ coil-sprung rear axle for a leaf-sprung live axle.

The Terron 9 sticks with an eight-speed automatic transmission (although a different unit to the T60’s eight-speed unit) and also gets four-wheel drive with a low-ratio transfer case for proper off-roading. What’s missing (but nobody else at this price-point has it either) is Auto 4WD mode which allows the vehicle to be driven in four-wheel drive on bitumen surfaces. In the case of towing on a wet road, this is a huge boost to overall safety.

While the extra torque over the T60’s smaller engine seems welcome, it pays to remember that the larger Terron 9 is about 300kg heavier than its little brother. That said, the payload is a little higher at 1100kg for the Origin and 1005kg for the Evolve but with the vehicle’s full 3500kg on the tow-hitch, that payload falls to 600kg and 505kg respectively, thanks to the Terron’s 6500kg Gross Combination Mass. It’s far from alone in this regard.

There is no official combined fuel consumption claim figure stated by Renault, as the vehicle falls into the heavy commercial vehicle space. 

But I can tell you it’s pretty impressive for fuel economy. I saw an average of just 8.5 litres per 100 kilometres over more than 1000km of testing - more than half of which was with the van loaded up with hundreds of kilograms of load.

With a 100-litre diesel tank, you could theoretically get about 1150km to a fill, and that’s with a mix of loaded and unloaded driving. 

One thing, though: most vehicles have a graphic on their dashboard to show which side the filler neck is - you know, you see a fuel bowser and the filler is on the right, that means your vehicle’s filler is on the right. Not in the Master. It has a graphic with the filler on the right, but the actual fuel cap is on the left. And like most vans, you have to open the passenger door to fuel up.

Worried about AdBlue? No need - the engine used in the Master range is a Euro 5 unit, so there is a diesel particulate filter, but no urea after treatment setup to mention.

LDV’s official fuel consumption figure for the Terron 9 is 7.9 litres per 100km. That’s a number that you might – just might – see on a gentle highway run, but the 9.0 litres per 100km we recorded on our own test drive is probably closer to the day-to-day mark. That’s still pretty good, though and speaks of the tall gearing in the eight-speed automatic transmission.

Against the 80-litre standard fuel tank, that gives a useable range of close enough to 850km on the open road before you need to start watching the fuel gauge.

It’s also worth mentioning that the Terron 9 is Euro 5 complaint rather than meeting the tougher Euro 6 emissions targets. As such, it does not require the addition of AdBlue, representing another running cost saving.

I did a mix of driving in the Master over the week I had it, including more than 600km of unladen driving. 

Why so many kays? I used it to move house, which meant I completed two “full” trips between Sydney’s inner-west and Cowra in the Central West of NSW, and two “empty” trips back to Sydney, as well.

I’ll get to how it drove with a load on board in the section below, but the unladen experience was pretty positive.

The engine and transmission are well teamed, and there’s a good amount of usable torque and very little lag to speak of. 

As with this entire generation of engines - a derivative engine in a different state of tune is used in the Nissan Navara - the refinement is mostly good until you reach higher in the rev range, where it can get a bit noisy and clattery. But the best work is done down low in the rev zone anyway. 

The manual shift action isn’t what I’d call “slinky”, more “clicky”. But it’s easy to row between gears as the action is light and the clutch isn’t too heavy, either. The gearing is generous, meaning you can saunter in sixth gear around 70km/h without the engine labouring too hard, and it’ll accelerate from there to freeway pace - provided you’re not going uphill.

There is a bit of ratio management required if you encounter a steep incline, but generally it’s a decently strong powertrain for its intended use - more on that below.

I’m always astounded about the steering and ride characteristics of vans of this size. Yes, it’s large, and yes, it can get blown around a little by crosswinds, and yes, you need to factor in the longish-wheelbase and larger turning circle that results from that… but it drives a lot smaller than it is.

The steering is direct and accurate, easy to judge at high or low speeds - which is great news when you’re parking (and there’s a good quality reversing camera and rear parking sensors, but you’ve just gotta remember the roof height, too).

The ride is adequate without a load on board, too. The independent McPherson strut front suspension copes well with changes in surface and bump control, though it can be a little bouncy at times. The rear suspension is a leaf-spring torsion beam setup, and it can be a little clumsy over road joins when unladen. 

It also brakes well, with solid and trustworthy response from the four-wheel disc brakes at all speeds.

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.

Both versions of the Terron 9 will feature the same safety package, starting with the latest driver aids such as autonomous emergency braking (AEB), forward-collision warning, lane-keeping assistance, adaptive cruise control, traffic-sign recognition, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic alert, and a door-exit warning to help prevent `dooring’ cyclists. But as we mentioned earlier, the inclusion of these assistance systems is not enough; they also need to be calibrated properly.

Meantime, the forward-collision warning and autonomous braking functions work in a speed range of 8km/h to 140km/h.

It’s also good to see standard tyre pressure monitoring which really should be included on every vehicle aimed as heavily towards towing duties as this one.

The Terron 9 in all its forms also sports seven airbags including a centre-front air bag to minimise head clashes in a side impact.

The Terron 9 has not been assessed by ANCAP for a crash-safety rating, but it’s expected that ANCAP will, indeed, study overseas data on the vehicle and make a judgment in due course.

The Renault van range is covered by a warranty plan that isn’t as good as you’ll get from VW or Ford. That is, the Master (and Trafic and Kangoo below it) have a three-year/unlimited kilometre warranty cover, which is two years shorter than the best in the class.

Service intervals are business-friendly at 12 months/30,000km, with a capped-price service plan spanning the first three years/90,000km. The service price is $599 per visit, but keep in mind you will need to replace the coolant ($132) and brake fluid ($79) every 60,000km. There’s also an accessory belt replacement at 90,000km ($506).

If you service your van at Renault, you’ll also be eligible for up to four years of roadside assistance cover. From the showroom floor there is 12 months cover.

Concerned about issues, problems, recalls, questions, queries, complaints, or reliability issues? Check out our Renault Master problems page.

The Terron 9 is covered by LDV’s rather excellent seven-year/200,000km warranty. Service intervals are every 12 months or 15,000km with the exception of the very first service which is due at 10,000km to account for the running-in oil the engine is filled with from the factory. This sounds like an extra impost, but mechanical sympathists will love this attention to detail.

LDV is looking into capped-price servicing but there’s no announcement to be made yet, nor any hint of what the price structure of that might look like if it happens.