So there I was, driving down the M1, as you do, using the middle lane correctly, and I was overtaken by a white BMW 3-series coupe. Quite a smart one. Nothing strange in that, but the woman passenger in the BMW smiled at me. Actually. Smiled.
At me? Or the Jeep Renegade? Or both? As her car sped off towards “The NORTH & Luton” I fondly imagined that she quite liked the idea of a sweet little guy in a sweet little car, maybe a bit squat and chunky, but charming nonetheless. I know she might have been thinking of something less complimentary or maybe recalling last night’s episode of Love Island. I’ll never know, and it makes me disproportionately sad because I might have got even more copy out of that affectionate glance.
I’ll also never know why they capitalise “THE NORTH” and “WELCOME BREAK” on motorway signs, Or some of them, but not, say “Matlock City Centre” or “Middleton Stoney”. If you know because road signs are your hobby or you’re a sub-editor employed by the Department for Transport working on motorway road signs, or because the designers of the motorway typeface (called “Motorway”), Margaret Calvert and Jock Kinneir, once vouchsafed the logic to you I’d be grateful if you could let me know.
Anyway it was what we should probably call in these enlightened days “appropriate behaviour”, that beatific smile from the BMW. The Jeep Renegade is indeed chunky, squat and charming. It’d make anyone smile. Victor Meldrew. Davros. John McDonnell after reading the Sunday Times Rich List. Joe “sandwich man” Garratt, dumped bloke off Love Island. Anyone.
If you really must have a small SUV, as opposed to a small proper car, then it has a lot to be said for it, just because it looks so different from the rest of them. The rest of them, that is, from the Seat Arona to Renault to the new VW T-Cross to DS 3 crossback to Volvo XC40 to Kia Stonic to Suzuki Vitara, which all have that generic hatch-on-stilts look – virtually indistinguishable. Only the Fiat 500X, Mini Countryman and Nissan Juke offer the same sort of distinctive individuality as this, the smallest of the Jeep range. The treatment of the traditional Jeep seven-slat grille and the car’s face is especially attractive.
In case you were wondering, the Renegade can also come with a proper four-wheel drive, so it can live up to the rugged looks, but the example I tried made do with front-wheel drive, plus a manual six-speed gearbox. So pretty conventional. Also conventional, by contemporary standards, is the 3-cylinder petrol engine, which offers a reasonable compromise between power/acceleration and fuel economy/emissions. The downside, as always with these modern small capacity three-cylinder jobs, is the thrummy sort of tune it makes if you push it a bit, and the fact that, for all its turbocharged cleverness, it’s not that quick. Adequate, I’d say.
The Renegade is also a bit naughty on wind noise, a product of its slabby shape and unusually large side mirrors (these presumably to help with all that off-roading that you’ll never be doing in it).
Small flaws, though, because it is otherwise extremely likeable. The cabin of my test car was very well finished, with off-white leather trim, good quality plastics and a nice, mostly responsive touch screen. The climate controls were set a built low, but were big and chunky, and easy to understand and use. There’s a heated steering wheel and front seats, though I couldn’t find them (the controls for the heating, not the wheel and the front seats. I managed to locate those. I am a professional, after all). I was though disappointed to discover that there was no adaptive cruise control, which means that I had to go to all trouble of moving my feet around the pedals to accelerate and brake. That might sound like I am spoiled, and I am, but you should expect that for nearly £30,000.
So for those many drivers out there who buy a car on looks, and would like to look, feel and be different, I can’t recommend the Jeep Renegade highly enough. You’ll get looks, especially on the way to THE NORTH.