The Grand Voyager’s floorpan has been carried over from the old model because the Stow ’n’ Go seating system that sits within it gives unrivalled practicality in this class.
Typically for a big MPV, there are three rows of seats. But, atypically, the centre row seats just two, in separate large chairs, and it’s the third row that seats three. The centre row’s chairs are larger and more comfortable than you would reasonably expect. The third row of seats are smaller and light on shoulder room for three, but are otherwise spacious enough.
The clever bit, though, is how the seats fold. The front pair (electrically operated) need to be pushed to their foremost position, but from there it’s a fairly straightforward job to fold the rearmost five seats flat into the cabin floor. The rear bench splits one third/two thirds. And then you have a van with 3296 litres of luggage volume.
What the Grand Voyager cannot do, however, is offer a cabin ambience to match that of its rivals, and fit and finish, while improved and entirely adequate, are still short of the class best, too. But there’s no arguing with the Chrysler’s interior room or the usefulness of its sliding doors.
At £32,995, our top-spec Grand Voyager Limited is the same price as its predecessor, which means that it continues to represent fairly good value against most of its rivals, and it also tends to undercut the Renault Grand Espace in like-for-like spec. It fares less well against the Ford Galaxy, though.
In our hands, the Grand Voyager’s economy was reasonable, but no more. During a decent cruise we returned 33.8mpg, with an average of 26.8. It also sits in the top G band for road tax, so it will set you back £400 a year.
Residual values are respectable, in line with those for the Galaxy and better than the Espace, meaning that after three years/36,000 miles, a Grand Voyager like our test car will be worth around £13,800 at trade-in.