Peugeot 3008 Review - 1.6 THP Allure

I won’t mention the accolades the 3008 has garnered overseas except for just one - European World Car of the Year 2017, no less. Suffice to say this jewel-grilled SUV comes from the land of baguettes, one terrifying traffic circle and what looks like a glorified radio tower (viva la France!) and is allegedly home to the most romantic city in the world.

But their reputation for making reliable cars has been shaky at best in South Africa. Yes to a fair extent the problem now lies with us, I refer to the perception we South Africans share of French cars. But in fact the marques, most notably Renault thanks to a strong after-sales campaign, have clawed back (like a lion? Yes Peugeot, we’re getting there) their cred, and gone a long way to instilling new confidence in the buyer willing to try something from the continent. And they did it the right way – by making great cars that are as reliable as anything from Japan.

In fact here’s one now.

Wow, shiny!

It is hey? I know a lot of the chrome bits are in fact plastic, so they go thwack, thwack as opposed to ting, ting when you tap them, but this is 2018 where eco-conscious materials are mandatory. It is in part how we got over that negative stigma of the SUV itself, previously scowled at for their initial obsession with larger capacity, unrefined diesely, carbon spewing powertrains.

So now we get large and tall, capacious and self-aware people movers of which the Peugeot 3008 is the crème of the crop. Ornate detailing on a macho slab of granite, clamshell bonnet lines and scalloped headlamp surrounds. All underlined by heavy-duty black cladding for when you absolutely definitely have to climb over a rose bush to get to that elusive parking spot at your kid’s school.

Ours is the Allure model which makes do with 18-inch alloy hoops tucked inside each arch (GT Line gets 19s) adding to its road presence, while out rear lamp clusters are housed within a strip of black plastic which merges with the dark rear glass. The floating roof (also black) therefore has a profile that can only be viewed from the chrome-like highlight running across the roofline. Properly snazzy, this.

Oh, but I have to bring up something irreverently irrelevant. Those wheels are named Detroit. Which is also the name of the infamous Mk5 VW Golf GTI wheel, the ones we nicknamed telephone dials. My point? Nothing really, except perhaps, how have we run out of names for wheels chaps? Or, why are we even naming them to begin with? As you were.

Door to door floor

Climb aboard and I dare you not to like the unconventional dashboard trim, an almost carpet-like fabric covering everything between the control panels and that multimedia screen. Still leather abounds, switches and toggles are ergonomic and tactile joys, and the curiously tiny helm promises an interesting driving experience later on.

I take one issue here, and it is shared by any and all manufacturers that insist on moving the aircon and multimedia controls exclusively to the infotainment screen. When I leave in the morning it is 6 degrees Celsius so my car’s heater is typically on blast – let me be clear, we’re talking 29 deg C in the shade with the optional seat heaters set to cook. But when I get back into my car in the late afternoon for the trip back home it is 30 degrees outside, and the 18 second journey it takes my HVAC to go from 29 to 16 degrees is enough to make me reconsider all my bad life choices. Nothing beats an analogue dial for quick relief. Still, a nifty interior here complements a very groovy exterior.

Let’s talk about that X and Y axis

How does it go in a straight line? About as well as it does from side to side; I refer to its performance ability and how it deals with it when the road ahead gets challenging. Let’s start upfront where lives a forcefully aspirated 4-cyl 1.6 litre petrol engine. It doesn’t have to send its 121kW and 240Nm too far, just to the front wheels (FWD) via a 6-speed automatic gearbox. The net result despite its size is a 01-00kph sprint in a fairly nippy 8.9 seconds and a top speed of 201kph.

That auto transmission performed without a single hiccup, not so much as an ill-timed shift in the entire time we drove it and that small steering wheel was perfectly-pointable making the driving experience of the 3008 just sublime.

Peugeot claims a combined fuel economy figure of 7l/100km. I achieved 8.2 without even trying. The suspension geometry is as you’d expect in a tall hatch, independent McPherson struts at the front with a (mere) torsion beam at the rear as opposed to a more advanced independent multi-link setup. Handling then is tame but predictable, safe and peppered with all the right low-frequency rumbles, burbles and barks you’d want when pedalling hard.

Okay, let’s wrap this up

Otherwise known as the bit where we take the pros and cons and measure it against the price, which at R459,900 makes the 3008 Allure quite a competitive package. I can’t think of many cons, really, apart from the aforementioned swipey-slidey HVAC controls and the fact that it’s a French car which historically meant a less than stellar after-sales experience.

But, the 3008 comes with a service plan, is built with precision and care and quite frankly is worth the risk. Like I said in the beginning there are better cars, but I’m not sure there’s a better ‘unashamedly French family car’. And after a full week of driving the 3008, that’s a category that suddenly appeals to me now.

Peugeot 3008 Allure 1.6 THP Quick Specs: