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Evening Standard

National

David Williams

Volvo XC90 T8 Plug-in Hybrid AWD Ultra: putting Volvo’s flagship to the ultimate test

Volvo London

It’s one of the most popular family cars in London; there’s probably one - or a handful - in a street near you. But how do you put Volvo’s big XC90 SUV - claimed by its makers to be ‘ready for anything’ and by reviewers to be ‘almost perfect’ - to the test?

The toughest challenge we could think of was to load it with luggage (and Fergal, our mini-Schnauzer) and tackle a three-week Grand Tour of France. Taking in long autoroutes, winding Routes Nationale, twisty-turny country roads and those super-tight, cobbled alleyways that snake through their (many) medieval villages, no facet of the big beast would be left unexamined.

We were testing the flagship T8 Plug-in Hybrid AWD Ultra, costing from £84,260. Claimed to offer an electric range of up to 43 miles (in practice that generally means less than 30 in town) it gave us an immediate dilemma; charge up or just ‘go petrol’? In London charging makes sense (especially with access to a private charger, cutting VAT). The car produces no local emissions and feels more refined running on its 145hp rear axle-mounted electric motor.

Faced with a 2,000-mile round trip to the Toulouse area, however, it would have been pointless charging up, with fast autoroute miles eating savagely into the batteries. EV power would be a drop in the ocean; we left the cable at home and freed up some boot space (even folded in its bag, it takes up quite a bit of room we would rather see filled with bottles, on our return).

Forward planning

Alongside its ability to carry seven people with the rearmost seats raised, the XC90’s other legendary strength is its load-lugging ability. Travelling without the kids, we pushed the middle row forward, releasing removal van-like stowage space; perfect for a trip in which we planned to live out of (several) large suitcases, hopping from hotel to hotel.

Launch pad was Le Shuttle at Folkestone, handy, as it has fast pet-processing facilities to check your dog’s jabs before allowing it into Europe. Your journey through the tunnel is hassle-free and over before you know it; easier than wrangling your dog (and its bodily functions) on a ferry. Pets cost £24 each way, car prices (there’s no cost per passenger) start at £69. Just 35 minutes after leaving the UK we drove directly onto fast-flowing roads linking us, via autoroutes and dual carriageways, with the rest of France, seemingly melting in a heatwave, highlighting one of the T8’s superpowers: highly efficient air-conditioning (with four vents keeping Fergal happy on the rear seat) backed by cooling seats which blow cold air onto your glutes and back via hundreds of tiny perforations.

While it performed well in London despite its sizable length and width, the big Volvo was an Autoroute champion, its cushy air suspension ride, low wind noise, elevated seating position and some of the most comfortable seating available, giving it a distinct Business Class vibe.

The second bit of XC90 tech to come in handy was the ‘units’ setting on the central screen, quickly switching us from mph to kph. Third was Adaptive Cruise Control. The joy of autoroutes is that you can cruise at 130kph (110 when it's raining); that’s nearly 81 mph, a far happier speed than we’re allowed in the UK. ACC takes the strain out of the driving and the XC90’s generally works well.

Pottered wheel

On long autoroute days, fuel consumption dropped to around just 31.2mpg, returning to around 32mpg on days when we pottered on slower roads. Swapping the steering wheel for the passenger seat occasionally on big driving days, it was handy to have the memorised seating positions - and a massaging function - on both front seats.

Mostly, we set the A/C to ‘low’ and it cooled the car perfectly, especially if we closed the swish, electrically-controlled interior blind covering the panoramic sunroof (which came into its own as a viewing ‘platform’ when negotiating dramatic gorges and mountain roads). On the hottest days, we put the fan up to position two (of 5), rarely needing to go higher. The ‘global opening’ function was welcome; hold down the key fob when approaching the parked car and it opens all the windows, releasing the hot air.

Other ‘likes’ on this luxurious family SUV? Plenty. Not only was the ride quality even better damped, at the rear when heavily loaded; it was possible to lower the suspension with a switch in the boot, making it easier to hoist ridiculously overpacked suitcases into the back.

The Bowers and Wilkins hi-fi system is a blast. In the passenger seat, I fiddled endlessly, playing with the surround sound, choosing different ‘studios’ (jazz, concert hall etc.). The sat-nav projected not just onto the big central screen but also the screen directly in front of the driver, as well as onto the windscreen head-up display. Not much chance of going wrong, although the visual instructions could sometimes be too slow to react on roundabouts, leading to confusion.

One favourite discovery (every driver should take a turn in the passenger seat) was the Air Quality screen, giving readouts of local pollen counts for different trees. Clever.

Country tracks

More exciting yet, as we struck deep into countryside in search of a remote swimming lake not far from Toulouse, ‘Drive Modes’ revealed that in addition to permanent four-wheel-drive there’s a dedicated Off-Road mode. It raises the car by around four centimetres and firms the suspension. Suddenly, it’s all very butch, giving us confidence on steep, loose tracks.

France becomes more French the further south you go and from the off it’s impossible not admire the sense of pride and community; enter almost any village and you encounter lovingly tended flower beds along the verges, free dog poo-bag dispensers everywhere, little litter, seldom any graffiti. Even roundabouts are well-tended. The UK could learn a lot.

First, we dallied in pretty Trouville before heading for beautiful Loches in the Loire. Next up was a serene B&B in the Dordogne, where we had no trouble piloting the XC90 in and out of mesmerising, highly compact, labyrinthine medieval villages; the high seating position and ‘squared off’ lines help. Then came Figeac, also in the Occitanie region, giving us the opportunity to drive along gorgeous, winding gorges in search of (more) medieval chateaux. Next was a tiny village just south west of Toulouse, that was just as beautiful - and with endless country roads just as good for driving as we’d half remembered from 27 years earlier when we were last here. The XC90 handled the turns nicely enough.

Brake time

The ‘Brake’ setting, on the gearshift, offering extra regenerative braking came into its own as we headed north into the Tarn valley. Descending extremely steep mountain roads into La Malène, it made negotiating tight, hairpin bends easier and topped up the batteries for manoeuvring around when we reached the bottom. Cleverly - given those speed limits that drop when it rains - I was intrigued when a ‘rain’ symbol, together with a lower speed limit, appeared in the dashboard as the weather changed. I realised it was activated by the wipers. Clever stuff.

The biggest tests for the Volvo were the six-seven-hour ‘legs’ factored in to drive back via pretty Clermont Ferrand, then Chinon (where the load space easily swallowed out allocation of wine) and on to historic Montreuil-sur-Mer. We enjoyed every minute behind the wheel, relishing the sense of power, luxury and comfort, aided, of course, by the massaging front seats, fluid steering, the glider-like ride and that king-of-the-road sense you get in a tall SUV. For a big family car handling is good - if hardly sporty - the steering engaging.

It was in Montreuil-sur-Mer, with its centuries-old fortifications, that we had a bird’s-eye view from our hotel window as 27 beautiful, classic, ‘70s Citroen SMs, with hydropneumatic suspension and V6 Maserati engines crunched into the gravel carpark one evening, on a club tour. It was fascinating as, bonnets up, cameras clicking, the owners chatted, compared notes and gently blipped their engines. What a sight. What a sound. We were just as happy peering out over the lines of the big, sleek, back and ‘chrome’ Volvo that had effortlessly conveyed us through over 2,000 miles of some of the best scenery Europe has to offer. A future classic? Possibly.

Alternative solution?

Deterred by the XC90’s size and cost but still fancy a biggish Volvo, also offered in plug-in hybrid or mild hybrid variants? Volvo swapped the XC90 key for that of its smaller brother, the very similar-looking XC60, costing from £49,860. At a glance the two can easily be confused.

With just two rows of seats, a smaller boot but very much the same design ‘language’ as the bigger SUV, it has much to commend it, especially in tighter bits of London where it is slightly easier to park, being shorter by 245mm and narrower by around 21mm.

The ride is slightly sprightlier, the temperament slightly sportier in the XC60. It’s more agile in while emitting the same aura of high-build quality and comfort and retaining much but not all of the luxurious ambience. You won’t feel short-changed.

It’s a case of horses for courses. The bigger XC90 has more space, more sense of occasion, more adaptability for when other family members want to join in. It feels slightly statelier on the motorway. The XC60 will be slightly easier to live with in town – while offering a substantial monetary saving and marginally better fuel consumption.