Putting our Range Rover Mk5 into its historical context.
I’m led into a darkened room and asked to stand on an illuminated circle. The music and light show begins, with imagery projected onto awhite-wrapped SUV that revolves slowly. X-ray views of the chassis, then body panels appear and the wheels spin as the Range Rover powers through different landscapes. Dramatically the room goes black once more, the cover is whipped off and there stands my Range Rover. Welcome to a customer handover at the Range Rover Studio in Solihull. I’ve actually had my Range Rover for several months, but wanted to experience the handover first hand. The journey up shows our Range Rover at its best. Light Friday-morning traffic on the M1, downlighters bathing the cabin in a warm orange hue, the sun slowly rising. At motorway speeds the revcounter sits at 1500rpm with the slumbering straight-six diesel barely perceptible; active noise-cancellation speakers in the plump head restraints muffle most noises, bar occasional tyre hum and gusts of wind around the HGV-sized mirrors. Press the firmly sprung throttle and the engine growls and dips into its 516lb ft peak torque, the nose surging upwards like the prow of a speedboat. In the age of electric acceleration, the diesel Rangie doesn’t feel physics-defying rapid but adequately brisk.
The cabin’s design may be stripped back and minimalist but it’s like easing yourself into a bath of warm caramel, with its sumptuous seats and airsprung ride. It feels like being carried in a sedan chair by four very attentive courtiers.
On the final stretch into Solihull, the imperious driving position displays its urban worth: looking over two cars ahead I spy road markings which reveal I’m in the wrong lane when I still have time to correct. Then we’re at the home of Land Rover, having averaged an impressive 41.9mpg over 97 miles.
Besuited deputy venue manager Adam Mercer ushers me into the circular, two-storey studio. Plush carpets, tasteful furniture, pale wood stairs and memorabilia galore: a Sindy doll’s plastic Range Rover, Vogue magazine covers referencing the car’s royal connections.
The air-sprung ride is like being carried in a sedan chair by four very attentive courtiers
Over cris
