Car Review: Dacia Logan MCV Stepway

As you glance over your shoulder at the vast prairie of space in your Dacia Logan MCV Stepway, you might be forgiven for wondering if this vehicle represents the highest capacity-to-cost ratio in the new car market. It does. At a time when so many estate cars are styled like coupes, and have no intention of being parked outside the tradesman’s entrance, the MCV, which stands for “maximum capacity vehicle”, of course, is what you’d call a “proper” estate car. Everyone from a posh antiques dealer to a photocopier repair man should be well pleased with the capabilities of this car. So should families with clutter and children. So should those who want, in a severe case of inverted snobbery, simply to tell the world they’ve better things to spend their money on than a motor car (the sort of appeal that Skoda did so well with since its VW-inspired revival). Mostly, this car makes an excellent case for itself – good cheap fun with a slight undercurrent of fragility. I’ve been on dates like that.

open image in gallery

It’s been around for a while, the Logan, both in boxy saloon and equally rectilinear estate format, and it has now been given the “Stepway” treatment. “Stepway” is the sort of portmanteau word that car makers love, because it means nothing yet sounds good at the same time, like Freelander (Land Rover), Scout (Skoda) or Bongo (Mazda – only joking). It’s supposed to look more like a soft-roader, or faux-by-four, though it is resolutely front-wheel drive. On a Stepway variant of a Dacia you get some extra plastic cladding around the body, a raised ride height, which people seem to like so much, the words S T E P W A Y spelled out awkwardly across the top of the front doors, plus – and this is the cleverest bit – steel wheels that look uncannily like alloy wheels. On the MCV Stepway they still look too small for the wheel arches, but nonetheless it is a very convincing piece of counterfeiting indeed.

open image in gallery

As a “value” brand made in Romania, you might think, unreasonably or not, that the Logan would suffer from an nasty interior. You might simply dismiss it as transport fit only for the Bucharest airport run. Not a bit of it. The plastics, recently upgraded, are not that far behind what one would find, say, on a Nissan, nor the seat materials (man made), while the “Laureate” trim level does bring you cruise control and rear parking sensors. I was frankly undismayed to discover that only the front windows are electrically powered, and the rear ones have to be manually operated (younger passengers may need a tutorial in how to do this). My press car was specified with an excellent simple-to-use satnav and DAB radio set-up, plus a rear reversing camera (£200 option), again a handy and piratical feature for such a long vehicle. Personally I’d also have chucked £75 at getting an armrest too, sybarite that I am.

open image in gallery

How does it go? Surprisingly well. Being the estate it bounces round a bit more with no load on board (it is, I stress, a proper load carrier), and the well-engineered 898cc engine does an excellent job of moving things along. On lots of premium-badged sporty exec saloons there’s a button marked “Sport” somewhere around the cabin to make your vehicle growl with enhanced response. On the Logan you’ll find an “ECO” button instead, situated down towards the footwell (ergonomics aren’t a strong point, to be honest). Push this and you will find your Logan transformed into a shockingly sluggish sort of machine, its engine revs severely limited in the name of extreme fuel economy. It could not, I judge, practically be used with passengers or luggage on board, and it means a long wait to reach the legal speed limit: maybe if you’ve got time on your side and you want to enjoy the scenery.

Apart from the small petrol engine there’s also a 1.5 litre diesel, which has more torque, and a slightly-antique 1.2 litre petrol option, the cheapest of the cheap. All are sourced from Renault, as is much else of the car, Logan being to Renault roughly what Skoda is to the VW Group, though positioned more towards the bargain end of the market. Generally the car has the feel of a Clio or Megane from a few years back, and the sharp-eyed might spot old bits of trim or features that are reminiscent of Renaults of old, such as the switches for lights and wipers, the little pod under the steering wheel that controls the in-car entertainment and the 1990s LEDs on the dash. A bit dated, but hardly offensive.

open image in gallery

So it’s built down to the price, and for some it might well be exactly what they’re after – a new car for second-hand Focus money. Indeed so focused might you be on economy that you could go all the way and order a Dacia Logan MCV in basic Access trim, for all of £7,295. Steel wheels, wind-up windows front and rear, no radio, no alarm, no adjustment on the steering wheel… but it can get a wardrobe in the back. May I introduce, then, the perfect car for British families and businesses in the new post-Brexit era of unending austerity?