Above all, the most impressive thing about the C5’s performance is its refinement. Once you get used to it, the C5’s serenity is actually the centre of its appeal, and it’s a characteristic that’s quite at odds with the Germanic influence. On the road the C5 still feels unmistakably French. In an era of increasingly identical products, that’s an entirely good thing, in our opinion.
What’s not so impressive is the C5’s actual level of performance compared with the fastest rivals, and just occasionally the way you access the performance can be a pain as well.
For starters, the 2.2-litre HDi engine suffers from a fair degree of turbo lag. It doesn’t get going properly until after 2000rpm, and it’s just about all done by 4200rpm. At least in-gear flexibility is respectable; 50-70mph in top (sixth) takes 9.1sec, which is at least competitive with its rivals.
But the C5 makes up for this with a smooth, luxurious ride that is rarely experienced in this class of car. On its Hydractive 3 suspension and refreshingly high-profile tyres, the C5 glides along the road more like an S-class competitor than a Mondeo rival. It’s so smooth, in fact, that the desire to drive it quickly vanishes pretty much the moment you start off.
Which is just as well, because handling is not a strong suit. There’s nothing obviously amiss with the way the C5 behaves, but the lack of agility comes as quite a surprise the first time you realise just how much inertia there is if you try too hard on the road. The overwhelming impression is that you are driving a car that’s simply not designed to be driven with any speed or enthusiasm.
Instead, you and the C5 are much better off gliding along, covering ground effectively together, and if you drive it like this you’ll come to appreciate the other aspects of the chassis: its decently accurate steering, fine ride, the good grip from the Michelin Pilot Premacy tyres and the calm, powerful response of its brakes.