Land Rover Freelander 2I must admit that, when the new Freelander 2 was first revealed to us in a London wine bar, I was somewhat underwhelmed.Probably churlishly, since I have the good fortune to spend much of my time in them, plugging about in riverbeds and other spectacular locations ‘not suitable for motor vehicles’, I’m not a great fan of 4x4s. Not that they aren’t great works of engineering, or that they aren’t amazingly good in challenging circumstances – it’s just that most are mind-numbingly tedious to drive on road.In many cases, this state of affairs has worsened over the years. The old traditional mud-plugger had no pretence of on-road manners. It teetered about on its cart springs and threw its occupants about on wooden or barely upholstered seats. To some extent Land Rover’s Defender retains this sense of honesty, but the exodus of heavy metal from the necessitous to the fashionable has led to a sort of ‘nouveau’ veneer of respectability. The result is too often something that feels like a motorised gentleman’s club and handles like a channel ferry. If there’s any sign of roll in most cars these days, even in a people carrier, the people carried therein go up the wall, yet on-road off-road types seem happy to cling on to the tiller when the list to port approaches capsize in their roundabouting dreadnoughts.That’s why the original Freelander was so refreshing. Neither particularly big, nor particularly ugly, it was a good-humoured 4x4 - one intended for fun and leisure pursuits. It could hold its own among the nag-straddlers and wildlife decimators served by its more portly cousins, but it had shrugged off the hoary hacking jacket of history and donned the dodgy kagoul of yoof.Off-road, it didn’t lumber about like them, but skipped with the agility of a mountain goat. Its lack of excessive ground clearance imposed some limitations, but these were surprisingly few. On-road, it was a revelation. Its comparative lightness and independent suspension combining to make it behave like a proper car. Surely the ideal for sporty types – a proper car that could get a grip in the ski-station car park and would give you a fighting chance if you happened to be pursued by an angry rhino.Then came Freelander 2 – at first sight a scaled down Disco. Had it become middle-aged already? I drove one about a year ago and thought it had. Everything that made the old car different seemed to have been edited out.Then it came to pass – like it does – that we spent two days in a most inhospitable piece of Spain with the entire current range of Land Rovers – a rare opportunity to really put them through their paces and reassess them in their true milieu. And, guess what? Whoa! I’m like won over big time, in the patois of the young folk. We drove along this gully that was like a real serious challenge to the big 4x4s? And the experts said, you so will not be able to do that in a Freelander? But like two cars made it through with hardly any damage? How cool is that?All together now: way cool!And that’s just what it is. Funky is perhaps more what it might have been, but cool is what it is. Whatever you ask of it, it seems to do with poise and consummate ease. Not too much attitude, perhaps, but maybe cool is better in the scheme of things.Either way, in everyday use, the car is remarkably agile and easy to manage, especially when you consider the space it offers passengers and cargo, not to mention the confident, elevated view it presents of the open road. In diesel form (accept no other), it is frugal by 4x4 standards, turning in somewhere in the mid 30s on the combined cycle in manual form. The 2-litre TD4 engine is also available with auto transmission, which makes mountaineering a real doddle, but claims some penalties in terms of consumption and emissions.Both versions have a claimed top speed of 112 mph, and can be hustled to the 60 mark in a commendably nimble 11 seconds. All this with a colossal load capacity, a fine sound system, and the ability to tow up to two tonnes.And the other funny thing is that, as you get used to it, it doesn’t really look like a Disco at all. I’m seriously getting used to it, and don’t really want to give it back.Here, at last, is a 4x4 I could live with.Dave RandleFeb '09
Land Rover Freelander 2
I must admit that, when the new Freelander 2 was first
revealed to us in a London wine bar, I was somewhat
underwhelmed.
Probably churlishly, since I have the good fortune to
spend much of my time in them, plugging about in
riverbeds and other spectacular locations ‘not suitable
for motor vehicles’, I’m not a great fan of 4x4s. Not that
they aren’t great works of engineering, or that they aren’t
amazingly good in challenging circumstances – it’s just
that most are mind-numbingly tedious to drive on road.
In many cases, this state of affairs has worsened over
the years. The old
traditional mud-plugger
had no pretence of on-
road manners. It teetered
about on its cart springs
and threw its occupants
about on wooden or
barely upholstered seats.
To some extent Land
Rover’s Defender retains
this sense of honesty, but
the exodus of heavy
metal from the
necessitous to the
fashionable has led to a
sort of ‘nouveau’ veneer
of respectability. The
result is too often
something that feels like
a motorised gentleman’s club and handles like a channel
ferry. If there’s any sign of roll in most cars these days,
even in a people carrier, the people carried therein go up
the wall, yet on-road off-road types seem happy to cling
on to the tiller when the list to port approaches capsize
in their roundabouting dreadnoughts.
That’s why the original Freelander was so refreshing.
Neither particularly big, nor particularly ugly, it was a
good-humoured 4x4 - one intended for fun and leisure
pursuits. It could hold its own among the nag-straddlers
and wildlife decimators served by its more portly
cousins, but it had shrugged off the hoary hacking jacket
of history and donned the dodgy kagoul of yoof.
Off-road, it didn’t lumber about like them, but skipped
with the agility of a mountain goat. Its lack of excessive
ground clearance imposed some limitations, but these
were surprisingly few. On-road, it was a revelation. Its
comparative lightness and independent suspension
combining to make it behave like a proper car. Surely
the ideal for sporty types – a proper car that could get a
grip in the ski-station car park and would give you a
fighting chance if you happened to be pursued by an
angry rhino.
Then came Freelander 2 – at first sight a scaled down
Disco. Had it become middle-aged already? I drove one
about a year ago and thought it had. Everything that
made the old car different seemed to have been edited
out.
Then it came to pass – like it does – that we spent two
days in a most inhospitable piece of Spain with the
entire current range of Land Rovers – a rare opportunity
to really put them through their paces and reassess them
in their true milieu. And, guess what? Whoa! I’m like won
over big time, in the patois of the young folk. We drove
along this gully that was like a real serious challenge to
the big 4x4s? And the experts said, you so will not be
able to do that in a Freelander? But like two cars made it
through with hardly any damage? How cool is that?
All together now: way cool!
And that’s just what it is. Funky is perhaps more what it
might have been, but cool is what it is. Whatever you ask
of it, it seems to do with poise and consummate ease.
Not too much attitude, perhaps, but maybe cool is better
in the scheme of things.
Either way, in everyday use, the car is remarkably agile
and easy to manage,
especially when you
consider the space it
offers passengers and
cargo, not to mention the
confident, elevated view
it presents of the open
road. In diesel form
(accept no other), it is
frugal by 4x4 standards,
turning in somewhere in
the mid 30s on the
combined cycle in
manual form. The 2-litre
TD4 engine is also
available with auto
transmission, which
makes mountaineering a
real doddle, but claims some penalties in terms of
consumption and emissions.
Both versions have a claimed top speed of 112 mph, and
can be hustled to the 60 mark in a commendably nimble
11 seconds. All this with a colossal load capacity, a fine
sound system, and the ability to tow up to two tonnes.
And the other funny thing is that, as you get used to it, it
doesn’t really look like a Disco at all. I’m seriously getting
used to it, and don’t really want to give it back.
Here, at last, is a 4x4 I could live with.
Dave Randle
Feb '09
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