Long Term Review
Living with a… Renault Austral E-Tech Full Hybrid (Final Report)
Life with Renault’s latest mid-size SUV demonstrates value of its efficient hybrid system, clever design and all-round practicality
Words by: Erin Baker
Published on 21 February 2024 | 0 min read
The Renault Austral is a very likeable, medium-sized family SUV replacing the previous Kadjar. Its hybrid system can’t be plugged in to charge from an external power source, power for the battery coming instead from a perky 1.2-litre petrol engine working in partnership with the electric motor for what the car considers the best balance of power and economical driving. It’s a clever vehicle, full of little design quirks inside, with additional surprises like four-wheel steering.
Skip to: Month 1 – Getting to know you Month 2 – What do you mean I can’t plug it in? Month 3 – Out of a tight spot Month 4 – Paws for thought Month 5 – Lounge lizard Month 6 – To the rescue
Skip to: Month 1 – Getting to know you Month 2 – What do you mean I can’t plug it in? Month 3 – Out of a tight spot Month 4 – Paws for thought Month 5 – Lounge lizard Month 6 – To the rescue
What is it?
- Model: Renault Austral
- Version: E-Tech Full Hybrid
- Spec level: Iconic Esprit Alpine
- Options fitted: Metallic paint (£1,900)
- Price as tested: £41,395
We like
- Google Maps navigation
- Incredible fuel economy
- Four-wheel steering
We don’t like
- Annoying gear selector
- Driver’s seat memory setting
- Interior design
Month 1 – Getting to know you
Erin says: “Renault needs to look at what brands like Volvo, Mini, Peugeot or Land Rover are doing with interior design”
So far, so brilliant value. These days, cool design and incredible performance can take a back seat to low running costs and value for money. In fact, they can get out and make their own way to the party. Accordingly, the first, second and third things I’ve noticed after driving the Austral pretty much every day for the last month is that I’m getting nearly 600 miles from one 55-litre tank of petrol, with the help of the on-board battery and electric motor. The official efficiency figure from Renault is 57.7mpg, which is proving fairly accurate if you don’t whizz round in Sport mode all the time. Which is a temptation, though, given it makes a joke of the idea that a 1.2-litre engine is gutless. Combine that fuel economy with an SUV capable of swallowing four adults in comfort and you have an impressive car. It’s also a much more stylish one than its Kadjar predecessor, especially with our very cool optional matt ‘Shadow’ grey paint, black roof and high-riding LED light bar at the rear. And a more useful one, thanks to clever touches like the neat sliding tray covering the centre console cup holders that doubles as a wireless phone charging mat. It’s just a shame the materials inside are - like sister cars from Nissan - about 20 years out of date, with black Alcantara, black leather, black plastic, electric-blue stitching and snazzy lighting for that full 90s nightclub vibe. Renault needs to look at what brands like Volvo, Mini, Peugeot or Land Rover are doing with interior design here and at least acknowledge the natural world with some lighter colours, cool textiles, technical weaves or natural surfaces like wool, wood or similar. Renault’s gear selector, mounted near the steering wheel, is also bothering us. The Megane this Austral replaces had the same thing, and it demands a slow and deliberate nudge upwards to move into reverse to avoid stranding yourself in neutral mid-way through a manoeuvre, as happens time and time again. It’s driving us nuts. It needs recalibrating to be slightly more sensitive, while providing a deliberate enough shift to stop you accidentally engaging another gear. A fine line, but others manage it. On a more positive note our Austral has four-wheel steering, which is the best invention ever on a car based on experience of our long-term Range Rover and its similar system. It takes you by surprise every time you edge out of, or into, a tight parking space, driveway, or junction, spinning the car tightly around its waist, pivoting the nose sharply in the direction you want to go and tucking its rear neatly in behind it. It is really incredible, transforming everyday urban driving by taking away so much of the anxiety about manoeuvring, , especially in larger cars. Here’s to the next five months. Back to top
Month 2 – What do you mean I can’t plug it in?
Erin says: “The Renault makes proper use of the battery, giving you up to a third of every journey on pure electric juice”
My partner asked me where the socket is on the car to plug it in for charging last week. When I explained you can't plug it in because the battery charges from the engine and regenerative braking, so it's a hybrid as opposed to a plug-in hybrid, he was amazed. And not just at the industry's inability to explain hybrids properly to the public. You just don't expect this sort of electric usage from something other than a pure electric car or a plug-in hybrid. The Renault makes proper use of the battery, giving you up to a third of every journey on pure electric juice. I've even noticed the engine cutting out and the power switching to electric for decent intervals at 70mph on the motorway. It's lovely when the little 1.2-litre petrol engine switches off and you drift along in silence, because it is otherwise rather boomy. The result is that we're getting nearly 55mpg all the time, in all conditions. But you don't have to wear that fuel economy like a hairshirt and you never feel like you're being forced into a compromise involving weaker performance, which is a huge credit to the engineers behind the Austral. One small feature that's driving me absolutely nuts, however, is the automatic bootlid. You squeeze the handle and the car appears to consider the matter for a couple of seconds, during which time you assume you haven't done it right, so squeeze it again, which then stops it just as it's opening. Every. Time. But. Having just driven from Tunbridge Wells to Ripon and back in 24 hours (over 500 miles) I can confirm the Austral is a great car for long-distance driving. It's smooth, refined, spacious (with lots of footwell room for your resting left foot) and quiet, with plenty of acceleration for overtaking on the motorway. And you won't have to stop and fill up, thanks to that lovely fuel economy. Our top-level version means we've got heated steering wheel and seats, lumbar adjustment, panoramic sunroof and a fantastic Harman Kardon audio system with loads of bass. So, I just sat back and watched the miles fall away, and arrived five hours later in Yorkshire feeling perfectly fine. If that's not a measure of a good car, I don't know what is. Back to top
Month 3 – Out of a tight spot
Erin says: “I’m starting to appreciate the Google-based voice commands”
Once you’ve had four-wheel steering, you never go back. Fact. This is the greatest invention for the automobile since … the wheel itself. For those not familiar with this miracle of modern engineering, four-wheel steering is (clue in the title) the act of all four wheels turning when you turn the steering wheel, rather than just the front ones. The rears also turn, but the other way to the front two, at least at low speeds. The result is that the car turns into the corner or manoeuvre more tightly than it otherwise would, making tight spots, U-turns, roundabouts, carparks, narrow drives and other everyday driving stresses a surprising doddle. It’s a truly revolutionary creation. Elsewhere this month we’ve slightly dismantled the interior. Namely, the passenger footwell felt lining has fallen down from wherever it’s secured below the glovebox. I won’t blame Renault for that one, because we’ve got four boys and with boys comes destruction. I’m sure we can just whack it back up somehow. We are, however, continuing to love the fuel economy in this car, which means the Austral scores brilliantly for running costs. Turns out there’s a lot to be said for a small engine in a car brand that isn’t hugely sought after, the twin benefits being no sky-high insurance premiums to pay and few trips to a filling station. We also like the eco driving score you get on the large touch-screen. We’re scoring about 70 per cent at the moment, which is in line with my son’s math test result. “Better than expected” covers both results. And I’m starting to appreciate the Google-based voice commands. This system is very, very handy on the Renault's sat-nav. So much so, in fact, I’ve started using the car’s system for new routes rather than my iPhone Maps app. You just touch the little microphone graphic by the sat-nav’s search box and say your destination, whether that’s an address, hotel or restaurant. Really great when you’ve already set off and don’t have time to pull over and start looking for postcodes. So far Google has found and delivered the right destination each time, and the screen’s map is excellent. Less favourably we still don’t like the boom of the petrol engine when it cuts in on this hybrid system, and can imagine that a pure electric version of this car would be bang on the money. But, in the meantime, we’re not sniffing at 54mpg. Back to top
Month 4 – Paws for thought
Erin says: “When your car does about 55 miles to the gallon you don't feel guilty about occasionally kicking down and spurting off up the road”
First fault has emerged on the Renault, albeit a tiny one. The driver's interior spotlight in the roof lining has started coming on intermittently. As has the rear passenger one. At different times. At first I thought I'd left a door ajar, but the dashboard tells you if that's the case. Then I noticed that my light occasionally came on when I went over a speed bump, so – call me Poirot - I assume a cable has come loose somewhere. I can't be bothered to do anything about it, and it hasn't done it for a week, so maybe it's fixed itself. Given it gets dark at about 4pm, however, it's a little annoying. As is the lack of an arrow on the petrol-tank graphic on the dash. I keep forgetting which side the fuel tank flap is on as I pull onto the forecourt. If you owned this car, I'm sure you'd remember pretty quickly. One of those niggles that annoys journalists testing cars more than owners, I suspect. I've been blasting around with the Austral in Sport mode this week, just for the hell of it. When your car does about 55 miles to the gallon you don't feel guilty about occasionally kicking down and spurting off up the road. Also, it changes the interior LEDs that flood the cabin from blue to red, which is far softer at night. I'm also really impressed by boot space. This does not feel or act like a big car, especially thanks to the four-wheel steering I was talking about last month. But I bought a substantial side table last weekend and it just rolled into the boot, no probs. I make this point to all my friends and family (who then ignore me) but the Austral proves why you think before you splash the cash on a large, powerful SUV. I cannot think of a family of four who the Austral couldn’t suit perfectly. Plenty of leg and head space front and rear, plus that boot, makes for one happy household. Lastly this month, I'm so grateful that Renault thought to include the big plastic boot lining for mucky dogs. It Velcros to the boot sides and has a folding flap that flips over to cover the boot lip so your dog's paws don't scrape it as they jump in and out. Four months in, during winter, and it is a total muddy mess, while the boot beneath it remains miraculously clean. Phew. Back to top
Month 5 – Lounge lizard
Erin says: “I still find the four-wheel steering a daily delight, even five months into our test”
Our other cars in the family collective at the moment are a Peugeot 508 SW, Jeep Wrangler and Abarth 500e. All have their merits, all have things that get me all excited at the thought of driving them, but the Austral is the car I breathe a sigh of relief about when I know I'm going on a long journey in it. This is mainly because I know I won't have to re-mortgage to fill it up, because it sips petrol. We're getting about 540 miles from each tank, averaging about 50mpg. The hybrid system means it runs on battery power alone for bits of each journey, determined by the car itself, with no driver ability to switch between electricity and petrol. But I'd say it runs on electric power alone for about a quarter of each journey, which is very impressive and unusual given it’s not a plug-in hybrid. It's also a dream to drive on the motorway. The engine settles to a very quiet hum (it's much louder around town, where in stop-start traffic it cuts in and out with an irritating boom) and there's hardly any wind, road noise, or vibrations interrupting the calm inside the car. Instead, you get to enjoy the fab Harman/Kardon audio system which has different audio environments to choose from such as ‘lounge’ or ‘club’. I drove from Kent to Yorkshire and back in it, and it streamed down the motorway at 70mph for hour after hour. I still find the four-wheel steering a daily delight, even five months into our test. I nearly overshot a sudden right-hand turn in town the other day. In fact, I thought I'd left it too late, held my breath, turned the wheel hard and practically over-corrected because the car seemingfly pivoted about its own middle thanks to the rear wheels also turning. Annoyingly, that interior light is still coming on intermittently thanks to a loose wire somewhere. Other than that, and the fact that it needs a good clean inside and out, life is rosy with a Renault! So rosy, in fact, I'm trying to get my aunt to buy a preloved Captur... Back to top
Month 6 – To the rescue
This update is dedicated to Gene Goldsmith, the AA patrolman who rescued me from an 18-hour pothole nightmare with the Austral. Driving along a remote country lane at 10pm last Saturday I hit a deep pothole on a bend. The nearside front tyre immediately burst, the red puncture warning sign lit up on the dash, and I swerved into the muddy lay-by which, fortunately, appeared out of the darkness.
Then I discovered I had no phone reception and, knowing the area, realised there wouldn’t be any for a couple of miles in any direction a dark lane with no pavement, or verges to walk along. I can't describe the panic. In the pouring rain, wearing evening clothes, I opened the boot, pulled up the floor and peered underneath, praying for a spare or space-saver tyre. There was only a foam puncture repair kit, which I've used to effect in the Renault Megane E-Tech before but which felt as much use as a chocolate teapot with a tyre shredded by the pothole. I decided to stay put and pray for a passing car I could flag down. God must have heard, because five minutes later a woman drove round the corner,and almost drove past my phone torch waving frantically, but I think she saw my white coat and realised I was a lone female. She gave me a lift a mile or so up the road so I could call my partner at home, 45 minutes away, then drove me back to the car to sit and wait, doors locked. My partner turned up just before midnight, we drove until we got a signal, tried to register the breakdown on the AA app, which wouldn't take the details, so gave up, drove home, and called them at 7am the next morning. I had tried Renault Assist first, which is managed by the RAC, but it transpires Renault Assist doesn't cover punctures, which is just ridiculous. What a false economy for Renault - it might as well not bother paying the annual premium. We met Gene with his AA patrol van back at the Renault, where the poor man spent another hour trying to get his various spare wheels to fit the Austral. However, it transpires that the AA doesn't yet have the information for the Austral on its system because it's a new car, so he had no size of wheel that would fit over the large front brake caliper. He tried swapping the wheels and putting the spare on the rear axle with a spacer, which worked for about 200 yards, but then the car decided it didn't recognise the new wheel, so it shut down, and I drifted to a halt in the middle of the road. We pushed the car into a nearby car park. Gene then called round four tyre places for a new tyre before he found the right specification for the Austral - because it's a hybrid, the AA has to specify it's for an electric car, and before you know it, you've kissed goodbye to £160. The nearest tyre garage was a half-hour drive away, so off Gene and I set in his van. An hour later we were back, and he had fitted the new thyre. Then we had to wait another half hour or so while poor Gene got his AA tablet to go through the Bosch software updates some AA tech department guy had insisted on installing, before it could be plugged in and talk to the Austral, to reset the car's computer and let it know it could trust the new wheel. At 3pm on Sunday afternoon, I arrived home and left Gene to the rest of his shift, with time for perhaps one more call-out. It would have helped both Gene and me enormously, and saved approximately seven hours of everyone's time, if Renault had fitted a spare tyre. I understand that less weight means greater fuel efficiency, but we don't strip out the rear seats in a car if they're only used in an emergency. I now think a spare tyre should be in the same category. It cost the AA considerable time and expense, and delayed other call-outs, and I was scared out of my wits on a dark lane on my own, trying to flag down a passing car. I'd rather have sucked up the extra fuel consumption for the peace of mind. Apart from that, it's been a blast with the Austral, and I shall really miss its fuel economy, peaceful drive on motorways, dog boot protector and the peace of mind that comes from having a hybrid as opposed to pure electric. Perhaps most of all, I will miss its magic four-wheel steering. The fact that I'm getting quite emotional about saying goodbye to it, despite the horror of last weekend, says more than I can. Back to top
Then I discovered I had no phone reception and, knowing the area, realised there wouldn’t be any for a couple of miles in any direction a dark lane with no pavement, or verges to walk along. I can't describe the panic. In the pouring rain, wearing evening clothes, I opened the boot, pulled up the floor and peered underneath, praying for a spare or space-saver tyre. There was only a foam puncture repair kit, which I've used to effect in the Renault Megane E-Tech before but which felt as much use as a chocolate teapot with a tyre shredded by the pothole. I decided to stay put and pray for a passing car I could flag down. God must have heard, because five minutes later a woman drove round the corner,and almost drove past my phone torch waving frantically, but I think she saw my white coat and realised I was a lone female. She gave me a lift a mile or so up the road so I could call my partner at home, 45 minutes away, then drove me back to the car to sit and wait, doors locked. My partner turned up just before midnight, we drove until we got a signal, tried to register the breakdown on the AA app, which wouldn't take the details, so gave up, drove home, and called them at 7am the next morning. I had tried Renault Assist first, which is managed by the RAC, but it transpires Renault Assist doesn't cover punctures, which is just ridiculous. What a false economy for Renault - it might as well not bother paying the annual premium. We met Gene with his AA patrol van back at the Renault, where the poor man spent another hour trying to get his various spare wheels to fit the Austral. However, it transpires that the AA doesn't yet have the information for the Austral on its system because it's a new car, so he had no size of wheel that would fit over the large front brake caliper. He tried swapping the wheels and putting the spare on the rear axle with a spacer, which worked for about 200 yards, but then the car decided it didn't recognise the new wheel, so it shut down, and I drifted to a halt in the middle of the road. We pushed the car into a nearby car park. Gene then called round four tyre places for a new tyre before he found the right specification for the Austral - because it's a hybrid, the AA has to specify it's for an electric car, and before you know it, you've kissed goodbye to £160. The nearest tyre garage was a half-hour drive away, so off Gene and I set in his van. An hour later we were back, and he had fitted the new thyre. Then we had to wait another half hour or so while poor Gene got his AA tablet to go through the Bosch software updates some AA tech department guy had insisted on installing, before it could be plugged in and talk to the Austral, to reset the car's computer and let it know it could trust the new wheel. At 3pm on Sunday afternoon, I arrived home and left Gene to the rest of his shift, with time for perhaps one more call-out. It would have helped both Gene and me enormously, and saved approximately seven hours of everyone's time, if Renault had fitted a spare tyre. I understand that less weight means greater fuel efficiency, but we don't strip out the rear seats in a car if they're only used in an emergency. I now think a spare tyre should be in the same category. It cost the AA considerable time and expense, and delayed other call-outs, and I was scared out of my wits on a dark lane on my own, trying to flag down a passing car. I'd rather have sucked up the extra fuel consumption for the peace of mind. Apart from that, it's been a blast with the Austral, and I shall really miss its fuel economy, peaceful drive on motorways, dog boot protector and the peace of mind that comes from having a hybrid as opposed to pure electric. Perhaps most of all, I will miss its magic four-wheel steering. The fact that I'm getting quite emotional about saying goodbye to it, despite the horror of last weekend, says more than I can. Back to top