Dacia? Who are they?
2017 Dacia Duster Lauréate Review:
A refreshing slice of nostalgia for the modern motoring world.
No, I haven’t taken leave of my senses. Yes, I know Dacias of the late 1990’s were hopeless; they were thrown together by careless employees, using poor-quality steel, knackered 1970s tooling and asthmatic engines. But trust me, this one’s different. They’ve evolved, and they’ve built something brilliant.
We’ll start with the engine. It’s not fast. Shocking, I know. But it should, at least, be reliable. Ever since Renault took Dacia under their wing in the early 2000s, Dacia have foraged through their protector’s toybox in search of goodies to graft onto their vehicles. As a result of their diligence, the Duster borrows the Nissan-Renault derived dCi unit; a reliable 1.5 litre 4-cylinder turbo-diesel with 110 bhp and 192 ft/lbs of torque. In the Duster, it provides a leisurely 11.4 second 0–60 mph saunter and, if encouraged with a pair of lead-lined Timberlands, a 105 mph top speed.
And the engine feels right at home. There’s just enough power for the chassis and brakes to cope with and you don’t feel like a hinderance in traffic. It drives well, if not slightly old fashioned, which is probably why I like it. The suspension is capable, with enough travel for off-road excursions and enough pliability to keep the occupants comfortable on tarmac. But it doesn’t isolate you from the world; if you run over a pothole or a speed-bump, the chassis lets you know.
It’s surprisingly responsive, perhaps due to the yesteryear tech. The steering is hydraulically operated and has just enough assistance to make driving easy, but not boring. It’s a joy amidst the current craze of overly-diluted electric systems. I had a distinct impression of the direction of the front wheels and could happily throw it into corners, knowing the amount of lock I requested would be the amount of lock provided. It felt old. It felt mechanical. And it felt very satisfying.
The brakes are another low-tech innovation. Look at the number plate. Now look at the hubs. As standard, you get 280 mm discs up front and 203 mm drums in the rear. On a 2017 car. Inspired. And they work perfectly well; drum brakes have stopped our cars for more than a century and, if Dacia have their own way, will continue to do so for another. Sure, the pedal’s a bit squishy and they will eventually fade if you thrash them but, for day-to-day use, they work great.
It looks good, too. The bodywork’s a triumph. I like its dopey face and its flared wheel-arches. I like its funky tail-lights and its daft cheese-grater grille. I like its boxy dimensions and its chunky roof-bars. It looks good. It looks rugged, utilitarian and utterly eastern-European, (like its older sister the ARO 10), without sharing any of the hopeless eastern-European engineering gremlins.
It’s not all perfect though. The interior’s obviously been built down to a price. The dash feels like it’s made from recycled plastic bags, the gauges are cheap and slow to respond, the switchgear is lifted from a 2005 Clio and the radio (which couldn’t find a single station) looks like it came out of a van. The pedal-box also seems to be an afterthought. The clutch sits lower than the brake and is pushed up close to the transmission tunnel so, every time you change gear, your foot ends up wedged between the pedal and the floor. Which is irritating.
My main complaint, however, is the gearbox. It’s crashy. And the linkage isn’t the most precise. First gear liked playing hide-and-seek at traffic lights and reverse vanished when I tried to leave the dealership. Second and fourth gear required some man-handling to make them engage properly and downshifts required a blip of the throttle to make the cogs match up. The words “old” and “school” sum up the experience. It was a riot to rag about for a short test-drive, but I reckon it’d get wearisome if it was my daily.
But then you see the price. Suddenly, all my critique stands for nought. You can have a poverty-spec one for less than ten grand. How do they do it? The mid-range one I borrowed was only £14,500, and you get alloy wheels, a 6-speed gearbox, fog lamps, electric mirrors, a Bluetooth radio (when it works), climate control, electric windows all round and loads of space. Pay another two grand and you get four-wheel drive and sat-nav which, when compared with a similarly-specced Nissan Qashqai or Volkswagen Tiguan (priced at £22,000 and £30,000 respectively), looks like the bargain of the century.
Pay less. Get more. Sensible business by Dacia.
Luke Wilkinson 2018 ©