Yahoo Autos Range Rover plug-in hybrid 2023 long-term test
Why we ran it: To see if the new Range Rover is all the car you will ever need
Month 6 - Month 5 - Month 4 - Month 3 - Month 2 - Month 1 - Final specs
Life with a Range Rover: Month 6
After 12,000 miles with our upmarket plug-in hybrid SUV, the final verdict is in - 8 November
The Range Rover is one of those cars with a fervent fanbase. Whether or not anyone needs a car of such monumental ability (most of the time they don’t), lots of people unconditionally love the brand, what the cars have to offer, and are either serial owners or covet the idea of owning one. It’s a bit of a cult.
And, honestly, that’s absolutely fine. There’s a heap of appeal here, yet the whole Range Rover thing has never resonated with me. My idea of the perfect Land Rover product was always something along the lines of a Discovery 4 with a diesel V6 – comfortable and spacious but hardy and manageably sized – and, crucially, très unpretentious.
So, as ridiculous as it sounds, I wasn’t exactly a drooling mess when in June I took over the running of our £137k Belgravia Green Range Rover P440e. I’ve never hankered after a 2.7-tonne SUV with a tax-break PHEV powertrain and wood trim. More to the point, in my patch of London, owning such an overlord-spec machine just isn’t the way to make friends. Only the other day, a tyre on my GLC test car was let down by the ‘Tyre Extinguishers’ (Google them; they use lentils). A GLC! The Rangie makes the Mercedes look like a scale model.
Neither did things get off to a great start. The P440e was taken to France, where it lugged around the dead weight of its depleted battery for a week or two and, even with considered use, struggled to return MPG figures much above the mid-20s. It also didn’t fit into French car parks and the steering hunted about in a subtle but slightly tiring manner on long motorway stints.
I knew deep down that, even back in the UK, I wasn’t going to charge the battery much, even though it’s a substantial unit that can give you around 50 miles of electric range in normal driving. I mean, why bother, unless you have a driveway and wallbox charger and plugging in really is the work of a moment?
The 3.0-litre straight six is perfectly effective on its own. It fact, it’s a hell of an engine – so smooth, quietly sonorous and so bloody torquey. All in, this powertrain makes 457lb ft of torque, meaning the P440e will outdrag a VW Golf GTI. Crazy.
Then there was the cabin. In fairness, JLR’s new-ish Pivi Pro works reliability well and looks the part. Likewise, the unique juxtaposition of geeky 4WD graphics - displaying everything from the inclination to the locking actions of the differentials in real-time - and the sublime, up-in-the-clouds serenity of the car's huge cabin was quite something.
Over time, though, certain deficiencies in perceived quality began to irritate in a car of this price. Not all of the switchgear felt especially solid and electrical gremlins weren't uncommon. How many cars of this ilk have an indicator icon that flashes twice as fast going in one direction as in the other? The biggest disappointment was the Ultrafabrics upholstery which genuinely feels a bit like newspaper and in black attracts dust like nothing else.
I’d stick to leather, preferably in a lighter hue. But my lukewarm view of the car began to change after a trip to Devon in foul weather. It’s amazing how cars can click in certain conditions or when asked to perform certain tasks, and you look upon them a lot more favourably thereafter. Minor irritations melt away. On sopping motorways and muddy lanes, our P440e put on an exhibition. The handling was miraculously tidy in an environment where something this size should have been a total handful.
On larger roads, the perfect relationship between steering response and the rate of body roll makes this SUV more satisfying to drive in the real world than almost any other. Rear-wheel steering is a revelation when you need to tuck into a tight spot. The car's superb visibility also came into its own, and the general sense of well-being the Range Rover at all times imparts is possibly unmatched.
It is a truly lovely company and reeks of character. The slab-sided 'L460' Range Rover has. in its own way, as much personality as any GT- division Porsche. And once you’ve clicked with it, there’s no looking back. Only a Range Rover will do. All of which isn’t to say I have become a full-blown Range Rover acolyte: it’s still Disco 4 for me, thank you.
The new Rangie remains a silly thing to plod around in if you only drive inside the M25, and most owners would be better off with a more efficient and more versatile BMW X7. But I do now properly ‘get’ this car and, given the means, would naturally entertain the idea of ownership. It will be missed.
Second Opinion
City clickers get miffed at the overwhelming prevalence of such cars in London, but the truth of the matter is that they just work so damned well here. The Range Rover is so big that any traffic in front of it seems to part like the Red Sea, while at low speeds, it moves like a Mini and emits nothing but a faint whirr.
Felix Page
Love it:
Mobile sanctuary Climbing into the quiet confines of the Range Rover was never less than cathartic.
Silky performance Hybrid-assisted petrol straight six is an understated gem, piling on revs with an unobtrusive zing.
Class handling It steers like a thoroughbred and can be gently hustled when you need to make good progress.
Loathe it:
Quality niggles I never liked the fabric and the Rangie in general lacks the bank-vault solidity of, say, a BMW X7.
Rough trundler It’s not always as serene as you’d expect over speed bumps and poor surfaces, even on smallest wheels.
Final mileage: 15,034
Posh armrests add to the Range Rover's luxury feel - 11 October
As far as I can tell, it was only on the Mk2 Range Rover of 1994 that front armrests became commonplace. They’re unspectacular, but I love them. They’re part of the Land Rover driving experience, and whether you’re cruising on the motorway or feathering down an A-road with your fingertips (which, amazingly, you can do), they make a difference.
Mileage: 14,750
Life with a Range Rover: Month 5
Our plug-in hybrid SUV is just like a Lamborghini Huracán. Kinda - 13 September
You wouldn’t think a Lamborghini Huracán Sterrato and our long-term Range Rover have much in common, and you would be right. In today’s world, they share the same clientele, sure, but that’s the extent of their similarities.
Even only one of them has a snorkel (guess which). Yet things change if you zoom out a bit. Returning the Sterrato I borrowed for last week’s Welsh adventure to HR Owen’s new mega-dealership in Hatfield (worth a visit if you’re passing), it occurred to me that there’s an overarching theme that links the two cars. It’s an obvious one: both are intended to straddle very different, even diametrically opposed, spheres. Fundamentally, one is just as improbable as the other.
Despite being a mid-engined Lambo, the Sterrato will happily scramble down gnarly dirt and gravel tracks as though it were a ratty Audi A6 Allroad. This is no mean feat for a machine originally designed to hang its mechanical bits as close to the road as possible.
Meanwhile, the Rangie rides like a Mercedes-Benz S-Class, despite the fact it will wade through rivers that would leave something like a Porsche Cayman nearly submerged.
One stat that I particularly like is that when you put the Range Rover into Off-Road mode, its air springs lift its body by 135mm, which is cracking on for the Sterrato’s ride height in totality. (Equally, you can lower the body 50mm in Access mode, but I like clambering up into big off-roaders, their height being their answer to scissor doors for bringing some sense of occasion.)
Let’s now talk about the Rangie’s lavishness, because a truly vault-like cabin atmosphere, particularly at low speeds, is its secret sauce. I was reminded of this by the HR Owen technician who went to fetch it from the on-site multi-storey. He had driven it only a few hundred metres and probably no faster than 15mph but was profoundly taken by the tranquillity of the experience.
Its quietness of trundling is quite something. During our road test of the D350, it recorded 52dBA at 30mph, compared with the 54dBA for the current S-Class (in S580e PHEV form) and, remarkably, 53dBA for that other RR, denomination Phantom.
Wind noise builds above 60mph, owing to the colossal frontal area, but for bumbling around this SUV is whisper-quiet, even with its straight six spinning. Height also plays into the sense of almost eerie calm, not least due to the privacy it imparts.
Knitting everything together is the suspension. The peculiar motion the body makes as those enormous wheels roll beneath it is inimitable.
Blindfolded, you would recognise it in seconds, because nothing else on sale moves with this sort of gentle, oleaginous heft. For every degree of roll you get in an S-Class, you seem to get two or three in the Rangie, but every bit of movement has a reassuring deliberateness to it. The first mile of travel after hoicking yourself up and inside is just a lovely, lovely thing, especially in crap weather.
All of which means it’s a genuine shame to report that the way the Range Rover copes with potholes and speed bumps isn’t up to scratch. I’m not sure of the reason, but it’s a conspicuous chink in its armour. There are times when the Sterrato does it better – which is mad.
Love it
Three pins
There’s a domestic socket in the rear of the centre console, intended for cool boxes and laptops. Simple but oh so useful.
Loathe it
Double time
Indicate left and it clicks at about 60bpm; indicate right and it’s more like 120bpm. Everything looks fine on the outside, but it’s a bit shoddy.
MIleage: 12,943
Life with a Ranger Rover: Month 4
Two weeks in the Loire highlight the joy and compromises of a big, plush PHEV - 30 August
Driving a dark green Range Rover to the Loire for a couple of weeks comes close to peak lish plumminess but, joking aside, it’s the sort of trip this car does need to nail. So does it?
Yes and no. A plug-in hybrid Rangie really isn’t the ideal candidate for a trip like this. Most accommodation in semi- rural Europe is unlikely to have a charger and, even if it does, it’s not cricket to leave your six-cylinder SUV on charge overnight, forcing the poor souls in EVs to fend for themselves. So you spend all
your time pointlessly lugging around a 31.8kWh battery that weighs probably about 225kg, plus the electric motor inside the transmission.
It means that at a fast cruise, you’re lucky to get 27mpg from a petrol P440e, which, with the 71.5-litre tank, translates to around 425 miles of range. Contrast this with the torquier D350 diesel, which I’m led to believe will easily manage 35mpg in the same conditions and
feels less profligate. An 80-litre tank also means 620 miles between fills. Fuel bills aside, the car is a peach when you’re on the road for an extended period. The scope of the cabin, the comfort of the cockpit, the little fridge for pastries and sandwiches: all good things.
I’ve said before that the sheer size and softness of the new Range Rover lends the handling an imprecision that can get tiring after many hours in the saddle.
However, the trade-off is the laid-back cosiness of journeys in any weather, as well as the car’s ability – and it’s irrelevant whether or not this is ever realised – to essentially go anywhere you point it. Except, that is, into the underground car parks that are designed for tiny French hatchbacks but can become inescapable dungeons for something as monumental as the Range Rover.
Elsewhere, the car is still wearing the basic ‘7020’ rims from an off-roading feature we did a couple of months ago. Nobody ever options these wheels on their six-figure Rangie, but I rather like them.
In Autobiography trim, the L460- generation car isn’t exactly salt of the earth. The 20in 7020s and a bit of mud dial back the pretentiousness and morph the car into something less obtrusive – and frankly more acceptable to the French.
Love it
Long-wave gait
The way the big Range Rover wafts is a wonder of the automotive world.
Loathe it
EV recalcitrance
I don’t know why, when the battery is nearly full, you can’t just drive off in EV mode. Too often the motor starts up when I don’t want it to.
Mileage: 12,155
The Range Rover's boot isn't quite as practical as it seems... - 16 August
You’d think a Range Rover would be well suited indeed to tip runs. It’s enormous. But it’s not actually that enormous when it comes to carrying awkward items, and the electricfolding rear seats get agitated if you don’t slide the fronts forward enough for them to complete their bow. And it only just slithers under a 1.9m height restriction. The splitfolding tailgate is great, mind.
Mileage: 11,904
Life with a Range Rover: Month 3
The Range Rover is a fine match for the Goodwood car park- 25 July
The Range Rover’s previous keeper, whom I won’t name as he’s no longer of this parish, fitted it with off-road tyres in his last week at Autocar. Annoying for me, because I mostly drive on motorways, but I said a silent thanks last week when crossing an especially treacherous grass car park at Goodwood. Still, I reckon we’d have managed on smoother rubber... Felix Page
Mileage: 11,460
Punctures galore... - 7 July
