Long-term test of the Ford Transit Custom on Parkers
Report 6: Time to say goodbye to our Transit Custom Trail
The Ford Transit Custom was the UK’s bestselling vehicle of any kind in 2022 – as it was in 2021. Which seems a fitting way to bring our long-term test to a close. This has been an unashamedly ‘lifestyle’-orientated exploration of what it’s like to live with this ultra-popular medium-sized van (its abilities as a commercial vehicle are thoroughly covered in our main Ford Transit Custom review), so what have we learned over the past few months?
And – more importantly – would we want to do it again?
What have you learned about the Ford Transit Custom, then?
Configured as a six-seater Double Cab in Van (DCiV), this is a fantastically multi-purpose vehicle. Sticking with the standard wheelbase means you stand a chance of getting (most of) it into a regular parking place, and the roof is low enough to be compatible with every multi-storey I encountered – though the new version coming soon is lower still for this very reason.
Having a big, weatherproof storage space in the back makes easy work of nearly everything even a very active family might throw at it – though cyclists may find it necessary to remove front wheels for maximum convenience – and the selection of tie-down rings means it’s simple to make such things secure. Compared with a regular van, the lack of side door access to the load area might occasionally prove annoying, but it was never too difficult for me to just climb in, the loading height is substantially lower than any conventional car or SUV I can think of, as there’s no boot lip to contend with.
What was it like for passengers?
Space for people is not an issue – there’s plenty of leg, head and shoulder room in both rows. But suffice to say, those in the second row don’t have the most luxurious of accommodation at the lower echelons of the Transit Custom range, with plain door panels and no convenient storage solutions for little bits and bobs, let alone any cupholders or power supplies. And no speakers or air-conditioning, either.
The rear seat back is rather upright and uncompromising, too, meaning you need tolerant travellers if you’re going longer distances. Especially given the volume of largely road noise they are also subjected to. If I were keeping the van I’d have been looking seriously at additional sound-deadening measures, but other owners I’ve spoken to haven’t felt this to be as much of an issue. So your mileage may vary.
Up front, there’s loads of storage, great visibility and good – if not great – comfort. I did find getting in and out more of a chore than I was expecting, due to the step-in height, but maybe I’m just old. Either way, it made me think about how critical ease of access really is to multi-drop couriers (for example).
Did anything go wrong?
Not really. There were a couple of occasions when the Android Auto didn’t want to work properly – usually when I was in the middle of nowhere – but that seemed to largely be down to fussiness about cables (no wireless connectivity here), and there was always the built-in sat-nav for backup.
The Transit Custom was even impressively frugal when it came to AdBlue consumption. Compared with the Ranger Raptor, I felt I hardly had to put any in at all. Hardly a surprise, I suppose, given the significantly better fuel economy of the van.
The only real issues of note, therefore were the niggling noises. The sliding door never sounded especially happy right from the day the van arrived (though it always worked flawlessly), and there was some issue with the seals in this area as well, creating more wind noise on the motorway than I felt should really be there. Add in some other random rattles – including from the driver’s seat – and you start to question the build quality. Just a bit.
These are the sorts of things you might put up with more readily on a working vehicle, so maybe they’re to be expected if you chose to use one as a family car. Though perhaps not when, as tested, this Transit Custom cost £44,378 when new.
What’s it worth now?
A quick check of the Parkers van valuation tool suggests you’d be lucky to get a used example with around 10,000 miles on the clock for less than £34,000 including VAT – but with the used van market being so buoyant right now as supply issues continue to impact new van sales I reckon it’s probably worth even more than that.
Especially in this classy all-black spec with the desirable Trail trim level and options including upgraded headlights and infotainment system. This is a properly good-looking van, which received nothing but compliments from other people. And often, which isn’t something you’d usually expect driving an LCV.
Would you want another one?
Fundamentally, yes. Although occasionally awkward to park and certainly a touch noisier inside than I’d really like, this basic concept of seats for the family plus large, easily accessed boot space that keeps everything separate – and secure.
The Transit Custom is comfortable enough for daily duties, and just astonishingly good to drive for this kind of vehicle – from the high driving position to the keen front end and excellent grip, aided and abetted by the Trail’s standard-fit limited slip differential. It was generally comfortable, too.
It’s also proved acceptably fuel efficient, for this kind of vehicle, with a life-time real-world average in our care of 34.49mpg. That’s not too far shy of the official 38.7mpg, especially considering that high number of short urban journeys it has undertaken – not to mention the extensive number of high-speed motorway miles.
There’s an new generation of Ford Transit Custom on the way in 2023. It’s got some act to follow, that’s for sure.
Final mileage: 9,590
Official fuel economy: 38.7mpg
Actual fuel economy (overall): 34.49mpg
Report 5: Three days in France and a lot of jet fighters
Following on from Adam’s camping holiday (see below), my turn for a little adventure in the Transit Custom. As with the Ranger Raptor, this took the form of a quick jaunt into Europe with my mate Keith, this time cramming in a number of historical sites – and an amazing private collection of fighter jets, Abarths and… fire engines.
We try and do this at least once a year, usually with a focal point and then whatever else we can fit in along the way. This time around I’d stumbled upon the Château de Savigny-lès-Beaune, I think via something on Twitter. As soon as I saw the pictures of the planes parked-up behind the big house I knew this would be Keith’s sort of thing, and we’d soon booked the Eurotunnel.
A startlingly early departure from Cambridge, some good half-term weekday planning and Keith’s obvious enjoyment of the van’s surprisingly punchy performance saw us arriving in Folkestone to a quiet departure terminal in time to get breakfast and catch an earlier train. This turned out to be a bit of a bonus, as the Chunnel was already running at a slight delay that would surely only get worse. This aside, however, there wasn’t much queuing – to the point where extra passport booths were opening just in time to greet us. Beautiful.
As usual, it was to left me to thread the wheels onto the train, but being booked into the bigger carriages made this a doddle. Tea and more snacks consumed, we were soon in France.
With our main destination several hundred miles south (ish) of Calais, we’d elected to visit that on day two. So our first stop was a quick 1.5 hours down the road to somewhere I’d long seen on those French tourist signs – which appear to have gotten an upgrade sometime in the last few months, by the way – but hadn’t previously had the opportunity to visit: La Coupole.
This is another of those German rocket bases from World War Two (I say another because we’ve visited other sites on previous trips) – in this instance a giant concrete dome that was detected and bombed by the Allies before it had time to become fully operational. Having been bricked up for a while by Churchill (not personally, obviously, but at his behest in the post-victory chaos) it’s now a centre for the history not only of this period but also the subsequent space race and exploration.
Not quite as eerie as Le Blockhaus d’Eperlecques, but humbling and thought-provoking throughout – and with a clever proximity-activated headset system included as part of the very reasonable entry price that gives you voiceovers for all of the mini video documentaries in the appropriate language. Well worth the very reasonable price of admission.
We sent the next five hours on the autoroute to Dijon, and our stop for the night. I always let Keith figure out the hotels – which are extraordinarily cheap in France – and he excelled himself this time by booking us into an F1 at a price that didn’t even include a towel. I swear the chap on the front desk was having some kind of amorous video call while checking us in as well, but am fortunately unable to definitely confirm.
Whatever, the fenced carpark was full of other vans, so it seemed likely to be secure. And once we’d negotiated the towel situation – clearly neither of us were hoopy froods on this particular Monday – we drove into Dijon for a spot of sight-seeing, the obligatory mustard purchase and dinner.
Having picked somewhere at random off a rather touristy square, this last turned out to be unexpectedly excellent. And Dijon itself was rather more appealing than I’d anticipated – a place to come back to with the family, I reckon.
Next morning it was time for the Château de Savigny-lès-Beaune. Less than hour down the road, it was at this point we elected to start avoiding toll roads – not so much because of the cost but in order to improve the scenery. Google Maps makes this a doddle, and we spent much of the next two days cutting our way through the countryside whenever we didn’t have big distances to cover. We saw a lot more of France than we would have otherwise, and the Transit Custom made light work of the twistier roads and the infrequent patches of bad weather.
Anyway, I digress. The chateau. A country estate that one man turned into a museum for his private collection of Abarth racing cars, motorbikes, fire engines, hovercraft, wine-making machinery and… fighter jets. Nearly 100 of them.
The jets were the primary attraction for us, but the Abarth collection is utterly staggering – even Keith, who is no car person, was impressed; it’s reputedly the biggest in the world – and the number of motorbikes is just extraordinary.
The planes, in comparison, are starting to look a little worse for the constant weather exposure, but it’s still quite the moment when you round the back of one of the buildings and see the massed ranks of them sitting there. And that’s after having been warmed up by the F16 parked on the lawn.
Suitably awed, we then set off towards our next overnight halt in Reims, stopping at the Fort de la Pompelle Museum on the way. This is more of a World War One monument now, but has a history that goes back way further than that. It also has what’s reputed to be the world’s largest collection of German military helmets. Which is weird, but I suppose someone needs to keep a record of these things.
Overnight was at a Hotel Premiere Classe – a substantial upgrade over the previous evening for only about 10 Euros more for each room. It was also right next to a tram stop that could take us into the centre for dinner and a spot of sight-seeing. Good news, as we hadn’t realised you needed to register ahead of time for the low emissions zone.
While the Transit Custom easily meets the tightest threshold, being a modern Euro 6 machine, we were still technically supposed to be displaying a sticker if I was interpreting the website correctly. As such we figure it best to use it as little as possible – hence the tram – and slink in and out of the area with as little fuss as we could.
Lots to look at in Reims, including the cathedral and an impressive memorial space. But I wasn’t as taken with the place as much as I was Dijon.
Day three was homeward, bound, breaking up the World War stuff with a stop at Château de Coucy – this originally being a 13th century castle, though heavily renovated in 19th. Quite the imposing structure or, at least, it was, until the Germans blew it up in – you guessed it – World War One.
Part of one of the towers still stands, as does much of the original wall, and much preservation work is taking place to keep what remains suitable for visitors. As such, you can descend into the castle cellar and explore some of the original staircases – as well as take a commanding look over the local countryside.
For lunch we stopped at a petrol station in more or less the middle of nowhere that turned out to have a bar and restaurant tacked on to the back. For a random Wednesday lunchtime, this was packed. And no wonder – I ordered a ham and cheese sandwich as was rewarded with an entire half baguette at a cost of about three Euros or something.
We managed to cram in two more excursions before we had to head for the Chunnel. First was a stop at the Siracourt V-1 Bunker. Yet another rocket bunker – though this one is currently nothing more than an overgrown concrete construction in a farmer’s field. Until recently it was fully accessible to the public, but a partial collapse means you can now only stare at it through the fence and consider the horrors remotely.
Finally, we also paid a visit to the Cambrai Tank 1917 museum. This is a small but incredibly powerful space, centred around the remains of a damaged British World War One tank. It covers the nearby battle front, partially personalising it by focusing on the tank crews. The conditions inside these machines were extremely hostile – shedding light on another way people suffered during that conflict.
As with all these places, it’s remarkable to see the effort devoting in keeping this history alive. Not least because of the way it serves as a portent reminder.
The run back to the Eurotunnel carried on the trip’s smooth and efficient theme – as again we were early enough and the terminal quiet enough to catch an earlier crossing. Which in turn meant we were able to scoot up the M20 before the night-time roadworks kicked in. Result.
How did the van behave on the trip?
It remains a pretty marvellous companion, proving comfortable enough and fast enough to easily smash through 1,186 miles in three days. Though fuel economy wasn’t super-great – we had a best of 38.1mpg for the first tank, but an overall average of 32.7mpg for the whole trip – we also weren’t hanging around.
Google Maps via Apple CarPlay and Android Auto kept us pointing the right way, while Spotify via the same kept us entertained (new roadtrip game: how long can you listen to a playlist of covers of the same record before turning it off; we kept Paint It, Black going for a surprisingly long time…).
However, having never spent time in the passenger seat before, I was taken aback by the amount of vibration detectable on that side of the van – something you can hardly feel at all as the driver. The wind noise and various rattles were a bit tiresome as well, the sort of thing you wouldn’t have to put up with in most cars.
Still, the height and general forward visibility made driving on the right in a right-hand drive vehicle an absolute breeze. And we did better with proximity to the toll booths than we have on previous trips – probably as a direct result.
Luggage space wasn’t much of an issue, either. We actually carried everything inside the passenger compartment, so when the British border control wanted to look in the back (‘because of the type of vehicle’) it didn’t take them very long to confirm all we have back there was a pair shoes and some bungee straps.
Sadly, there’s no time to look into that vibration, as the van is heading home to Ford the week after our return. So next time will be the concluding report.
Miles so far: 9,558.7
Official fuel economy: 38.7mpg
Actual real world fuel economy: 32.7mpg
Report 4: The ultimate family holiday transport?
Adam Binnie takes our Transit Custom camping
Over the years I’ve had a lot of strong opinions about what makes the perfect family car. The obvious priorities are luggage space and versatility, with ease of use and driver enjoyment competing for third place, depending on your outlook.
At the top of my list are two Skodas – an Octavia vRS Estate that I expected to adore (and did) and a Kodiaq Scout that slowly grew on me. One had a big boot and a big engine; the other was enormously capable in all-weather and had seven seats, but didn’t look like it externally. Between them, all the bases are covered.
Or are they? As my kids and hobbies have become larger, the idea of a “family car” seems too compromised. Never big enough to carry all our stuff, while simultaneously being expensive to run and too big to really enjoy driving.
CJ’s written previously about how a van could be the best family car, and I think he’s onto something. Multi-purpose vehicles like the Ford Galaxy and VW Sharan used to be popular for a reason; they had the space of a van (sort of) but the dashboard and driving experience of a car.
But now you can get a van that steers like a car and has all the same interior comforts, so why not just do that? This was the question posed by my LCV-evangelist colleague when I was busy complaining about how my tent and a week’s holiday supplies had categorically failed to fit into my Mazda CX-5. I interpreted this as an invitation to borrow his for our week’s camping in north Wales and so here we are.
Is a van too big to be a family car?
With two young children, two adults and a whole lot of outdoor hobbies, luggage capacity is always at a premium, even when we’re not on holiday. The Transit Custom DCiV has an extra row of seats compared with the standard van, meaning there’s space for six (!) people as well as an enormous, cube-shaped loading area behind. It’s the ultimate adventure enabler.
Keen to leave Parkers HQ before CJ could change his mind, I found first in the positive gearbox and sped off. Except there’s a height restrictor on the exit of our car park…so what I actually did was cause a small traffic jam, while I performed a slow u-turn in the direction of the gated exit at the other end.
Carrying out a tight manoeuvre in a confined space made the Transit shrink around me. When you’re sat it in it feels enormous – probably because the driving position is comparatively higher than other panel vans I’ve driven – but in reality, it’s quite compact. The steering is very light at low speed and seems to possess the same amount of lock as a drift car, so you can whip it around pretty quick once you’re used to it.
At home I showed my wife the vast, ply-lined cargo hold – a space that may be physically empty but was metaphorically full of opportunities to take bulky items like both of our (inflatable) paddleboards on holiday at the same time. No more sharing!
Packing a car for a camping trip is like playing with one of those captive puzzles where the pieces slide around while you attempt to fit them together. Repeatedly lifting heavy things in and out of the boot while two impatient children complain at you, all while the absolute-latest check-in time starts to feel like a best-case scenario.
In the Transit we literally just lobbed it all in. The only concession to order was keeping the tent somewhere near the front so we could get it set up before unloading the rest, but there was very little thought involved otherwise. The only way it could have been more satisfying was if the roof had a large hatch on it and we could have just poured everything we needed in from an upstairs window. There’s even a handy spot under the passenger seat to hide a camera away from prying eyes.
Loading the children was easier too – there’s only one sliding door (which opens kerbside) so there are fewer to go round and reclose when inevitably someone hasn’t slammed it hard enough, and no fear of someone getting out into oncoming traffic. There’s also no rear-view mirror, which means no distractions from children waving stuff around behind you. I appreciate this is a niche annoyance, but these little things add up on a long trip.
The rear bench is also huge, and the resulting gulf between the kids proved too vast even for my eldest’s arms to bridge, which meant both kids could get on with whatever they wanted without poking, tickling or otherwise annoying each other. This rear ‘kid zone’ is a long way back, making it impossible to kick the driver’s seat too. If you’re a parent I expect you’re getting quite excited by all of this.
Oddly though in the front, you sit quite close to the dashboard, making it feel less spacious than the back seats. Not that this is an issue, because it gives you a great view over the front and out of the van. It feels big but the Transit doesn’t take up all that much space on the road, and huge door mirrors with supplementary fish-eye lenses below mean you get a good view around you.
Blind spot anxiety is something I’ve often experienced in a van. I don’t like being faced with a pillar and a load of bodywork when doing a shoulder check. Yet, those mirrors, and crucially the windows in this Transit, all but remove the problem. You also get a blind spot monitoring system on this model and while it’s a good backup, I didn’t find myself needing it much, which says a lot about the visibility.
What’s it like on a long drive?
The trip to north Wales was a straightforward motorway and dual-carriageway jaunt, the only complication being the need to constantly remind myself about van speed limits (70mph on the former, 60mph on the latter, and 50mph on single carriageway roads) as even though this has six seats, it’s still classed as a commercial vehicle, and not a car derived van like the Tourneo Custom.
You get a speed limit readout on the small digital screen in the dash but it doesn’t always tally with the above, sometimes giving you a car speed limit rather than the lower van one. These things are a bit pointless if you can’t fully trust them.
Either way, I wasn’t phased by the slower top speed because we weren’t in a rush (time saved by the relative ease of packing), and I’d rather take my time considering the extra weight over the rear wheels. Which, by the way, had a transformative effect on the suspension, making it significantly more comfortable. It’s not terrible when empty but a bit springy over speed bumps and potholes. Loaded up, it’s much smoother, particularly in the back.
I had an ulterior motive for my sedate pace too. After my first fill-up earlier in the week I’d achieved 34.7mpg, which seemed good, but was a way off CJ’s 37mpg personal best. My petrol car currently gets 30mpg unladen – if the Transit’s 2.0-litre diesel is cheaper to run even with a load of kit on board, it’s a winner in my eyes.
I wasn’t trying particularly hard, but I was using the Eco drive mode, and this has quite an extreme effect in the Transit, which isn’t always the case with similar settings in a car. A soft rev limit at 3,000rpm keeps you well within the engine’s quietest range (it gets thrashy higher up) and limits the top speed to 71mph. Both are good if you get an itchy right foot on a long journey.
The engine is pretty punchy in Normal mode, especially when empty, which I suspect is amplified by the short lower gears. Shifting up is fine but on the way back down the big gap between second and third is more obvious. You have to slow down more than you’d expect before shifting down otherwise you end up with a whole lot of revs. This is a van thing, I think.
Handily the manual gearbox is great fun to use – both it and the steering feel incredibly car-like and there’s a weirdly misplaced satisfaction when hustling this huge van down a country road. But more on that later.
We stopped at Telford services for lunch which, due to its proximity to Ironbridge Gorge, has a massive “steam hammer” on display. My son (and I) decided this was an appropriate nickname for the Transit and so it became known for the rest of the holiday. The van is very easy to spot in a big car park after you’ve been in for a coffee and then completely forgotten where you left it, too.
With smaller and smaller roads left between us and Dolgellau, the gentle multi-lane cruise faded into more involved driving. Cutting across north Wales to the Snowdonia National Park often seems as long as the faster section before it, but the Transit is genuinely such a relaxing way to travel, the main vibe in the final stretch was excitement about the days to come, rather than exhaustion and cabin fever.
The slower pace you adopt in a van helps, but I think it’s also due to the fact everyone had their own personal space and a good view out that tempers remained calm. Particularly for those in the back seats. A particularly taxing 20% hill did mean I had to leave Eco mode behind, though.
Is the Ford Transit Custom comfortable?
Up front, I was surprised by how comfortable the driver’s seat proved to be on a long drive considering it felt a bit basic and unbolstered. I couldn’t quite get the seat base angle where I wanted it, so I was expecting lower back pain for days, but it wasn’t to be.
The front passenger shares a bench-style backrest with the front middle seat, and this means you can’t adjust the angle, resulting in some discomfort for my wife who spent the trip sitting bolt upright. Oh, and I’d like an armrest for my right arm, not just my left, given how far away the top of the door is.
One big advantage though is the huge number of cubby holes on top of the dashboard, where we could store phones, gadgets and snacks that would otherwise clutter up the front passenger footwell. Also, because there’s never anywhere sensible to store 15 eggs on a camping trip, it seemed right to put them in the massive glovebox.
Some covers for the dashboard cubbies would be nice, and it also seems strange you only get two USB outlets – there are three cupholders, clearly one for each front seat occupant, but they’ll have to argue over who gets to charge their phone. Unless you stick an adaptor in one of the two 12v accessory sockets, I suppose.
On arrival at the campsite and resisting the urge to open the back doors and then drive forward quickly to unpack the van, we discovered much of what we’d brought had remained in the same place. I was half worried about it sloshing around – there are hooks on the floor to help tie stuff down, but none higher up the wall to help secure partial loads.
We’ve got an air tent with poles that become solid when you inflate them with a pump, like a massive bouncy castle. It’s brilliant. Inflatable things are just better (we’ve got an air bed too) and so with the back of the van empty I was hoping to find a 12v socket in the load bay to plug a pump into, but the cupboard was bare.
Luckily I’ve also got a big storage battery that charges off a solar panel (I have grown to enjoy camping by just chucking money at it) and so the van became a natural home for our little power station, safe from marauding footballs and children who will repeatedly trip over anything below eye level. Even a bright orange guy line.
The rear doors open and then lock in place at 90 degrees, or you can dehinge them and swing them open 180 degrees. When they’re wide-open though they blow around in the wind, so I wasn’t happy to leave them like this even though it was a better configuration for optimal light absorption on the panel. Again, probably a niche problem.
Later in the week I discovered a much better solution – just chuck it on the dashboard – which it fills in a way that makes me think Jackery consulted Ford before coming up with the dimensions for their solar panel. Anecdotally it did collect less light – 20-30 watts vs 70 watts outside, so there are some losses, but at least it’s secure.
We had some particularly excellent days out on our weeklong holiday, including a trip to Barmouth beach, which was such a good idea that everyone in north Wales had also decided to do the same.
Is it easy to park?
The main car park is a warren, filled with hatchbacks stalking empty spaces like they’re rare Pokemon (sorry, I spent the week in close proximity to my eight-year-old), and the Transit lacked the agility needed in this competitive arena if I’m honest.
Perhaps that’s why a young couple walked up to my open window and suggested I follow them to their car, as they were just about to leave. Jackpot! The steam hammer’s charm strikes again.
To my surprise the van was very easy to park. It’s got sensors and a reversing camera, and those big mirrors cover the rest. It’s a little on the long side, so at times would overhang the space, but not by a great deal. Plus, because it’s got a sliding door, you don’t need a huge amount of room on either side to get in and out.
Parked over from us was a superb disaster-spec Ranger Raptor with a roof tent and light bar that made me question my assertion about vans being the best family transport. We also saw another Raptor at Bala lake, except this time I was able to park next to it to compare grilles.
Sharing the Raptorised FORD lettering is one of the Transit Custom Trail’s key selling points, and it does make the front end look significantly cooler. A more practical upgrade is the helical limited-slip differential, which improves grip in slippery or loose conditions.
In basic terms there are some gears on the driveline between the front left and right wheels, which in normal conditions mean they can turn at different speeds (when you turn a corner the outside wheel follows a longer path and therefore goes faster) but when grip levels wane the diff can “lock” to stop the tyre from spinning in the mud.
It’s cheaper than all-wheel drive and it doesn’t need servicing so it costs less to run too – if you need to venture onto mildly challenging terrain, I thoroughly recommend it, because it works brilliantly. I tried really hard to get it stuck several times and failed miserably. It also makes the van handle extremely well on the road, especially in the wet.
While at the lake we also deployed the aforementioned paddleboards and I experimented with a few different camera angles to capture a lifestyle shot you might see in the Transit brochure (although I suspect Ford would try harder to not obscure the grille) and made friends with lots of dogs who seemed very keen on the van.
As we were in Bala it seemed rude to not venture down the B4391 (my favourite road In The World) knowing there was a great beauty spot near a lake where I could take some more pictures and my wild-swimming enthusiast friend Annie could go for a dip.
Is the Transit Custom good for keen drivers?
It’s surprisingly good fun to drive on twisty roads – you have to be aware of the dimension at all times, of course, and the extra space required to slow down, but the steering is nicely weighted and accurate and there’s plenty of grip.
Without a load in the back it’s also quite quick. There’s a reasonably short power band when the turbo’s blowing so you have to work the gearbox to keep it in the sweet spot, but it’s quite responsive even when the revs drop a little.
All this talk of spirited driving may leave you wondering why I didn’t mention the word “safety” in my list of family car priorities way back in the first paragraph, and that’s because it’s a bit of an elephant in the room when it comes to this van. I think my wife put it most succinctly when she asked, “hang on, where’s my airbag?”
Euro NCAP gives this van a Gold award, praising the safety tech standard on trims above Trend (autonomous emergency braking that can recognise cars, pedestrians and bikes, lane assist, speed limit display and attention assist) which it describes as an ‘excellent result’.
There’s a fair bit of tech onboard to help avoid or mitigate a crash but not as much inside as standard as you’d get in a comparatively priced car. Spec yours carefully if you plan on using it as your main family vehicle.
With the sun setting on our last day of camp and the long road home beckoning I realised how easy the Transit had made our lives on this trip. Packing up the next day (always the worst bit of a holiday) was just as simple as before and helped numb the post-holiday blues before they had a chance to take hold.
How much diesel did you use?
My final diesel fill returned 36.5mpg which I was quite happy with, given the 500 or so miles we’d covered during that time had been a real mix of dual-carriageways while packed to the brim, country roads with steep second gear hills, and in-town pottering with stop-start events like give way lines and traffic lights. I reckon it’d have been much higher if some of the long motorway stretches had been included.
Back home and the Transit’s final bonus feature became obvious – with rubber mats in the front and a flat floor in the back, you can clean it out from a week’s holiday in about five minutes with a broom. The rear seats are also raised above the floor so you can get a vacuum under them. The crumbs have nowhere to hide.
Verdict
Let’s get back to reality for a moment – going on a camping holiday for a week is not a realistic representation of normal family life. While the Transit Custom absolutely crushed it, the benefits of that huge load bay would be less obvious on an early morning school run or trip requiring a multistorey car park.
It’s also fair to say that though the van has quite a lot of the same comforts you get in a car, it misses a few features I’ve come to love; keyless start, adaptive cruise control, climate control and heated seats. None of these are essentials, but the Transit is not cheap, and you’d get them if you spent this much money on a car.
If you’re already a two-car household then I think there’s a realistic use case here for having a small hatchback to run around in and a van like the Transit Custom for longer trips, holidays and outdoor activities. I’m only disappointed I didn’t have it long enough to throw my mountain bike in the back and disappear off to the Alps.
I have equally strong opinions about the best way to transport a bike as what makes a good family car, and I suspect the Transit Custom Trail ticks that box just as well as it does the other.
Miles so far: 7,750.4
Official fuel economy: 38.7mpg
Actual real world fuel economy: 36.5mpg
Report 3: Cons and pros of vanlife
Having just had to pay an extra tenner to get the Transit Custom’s rear seats cleaned – a 33% increase over the original ‘large vehicle’ price that I never incurred while I had the Raptor – I’m prompted to consider how van drivers often get a bit of a raw deal.
Another recent example of this occurred when my family and I rocked up at some pre-booked airport parking ahead of a short holiday, only to be informed – at 4am – that the firm in question didn’t accept vans. Never mind that the TC might have been my only transport, and is similarly proportioned to a number of SUVs I could mention.
I didn’t argue, since it was clearly my fault for not checking the small print properly (in truth, I’d been half expecting it during the journey down). But I had prebooked via an online service that used a number plate lookup tool, and surely it wouldn’t be beyond the bounds of possibility for that to employ a rule that recognised ineligible vehicles. Fortunately, we’d left plenty of time, so finding an alternative wasn’t overly stressful (even if it was unnecessarily expensive).
This aside, I’m developing a particular panoply of curses for whenever I come across an unmarked height restrictor. I suppose that teaches me for not opting for a more ordinary family car, but again see my point about people who are forced to rely on a van as their only transport.
I could also get into speed limits, on the basis that most modern vans – especially the mid-size models like this – are easily more accomplished to drive than most pickup trucks, yet the majority of pickups are acceptable at car speed limits when working vans are not. But perhaps I’ll duck away from that given how poorly maintained and loaded some LCVs are (just follow any police road traffic division on social media for plenty of examples).
Anyway, what do I get in compensation for all this hassle?
Space
I don’t just mean load space – though that is obviously quite useful when there’s seating for six. I also mean passenger space and in-cab storage.
I went into this a bit in the previous report, but just look at all the cubbies and containers here, the trio of door pockets, the multiple choice cupholders. I’ll know things have gotten seriously out of hand if I ever arrive at the driver’s door with a handful and stuff and find myself worrying where I’ll put it all.
Though those in the second row aren’t so well catered for, the acreage is such that you can easily get by the child seat into the other positions, even if the child is in it.
Gloriously practical, and well worth the additional occasional hassle.
While we’re talking advantages, the twin-lens door mirrors are worth a mention. In a city like Cambridge, where bikes and electric scooters are as common as cars, that lower wide-angle mirror is a hugely useful.
Would you make any changes?
It’s increasingly obvious that despite the above, a second sliding door would be a useful thing if you’re going to use the rear seat for family duties on the regular – the safety hammer bolted to the fixed panel on the driver’s side is a constant reminder of a worst-case scenario.
A little more trimming in the back wouldn’t go amiss either; I’ve already mentioned it’s quite loud in there at speed. And giving ultimate control and unlimited budget, I’d arrange for a better set of windows. The kiddo was a little non-plussed about those tiddly pop out portals.
Up front, most things make sense as they are – and this revised dashboard is a big improvement over what was originally fitted at the Transit Custom’s launch in 2012. But some lids for the dash-top compartments wouldn’t go amiss, as you can end up with annoying reflections in the windscreen if you’re not careful about what you chuck in there.
Also, if it’s a family wagon you’re after, and you don’t need to seat six, replacing the front passenger bench with a single chair would create a walk-through cabin. Something that’s surprisingly useful, for instance, when in tight parking spaces, as you could exit via the sliding doors.
Miles so far: 5,031
Official fuel economy: 38.7mpg
Actual real world fuel economy: 34.46mpg
Report 2: Getting to know our Transit Custom Trail
Because of the magical way things work in media land, the Transit Custom Trail has been with us for a few months already at this point. Which means it’s already experienced quite a variety of adventures (if that’s the right word), and I’m well on the way to getting to know it quite well.
Which is both good and bad, as I’ll explain.
What kinds of adventures?
I do a lot of miles up and down the country, travelling with my family or to events for work. Within a couple of weeks this meant encountering a reasonably impressive snowstorm on the A1M, as well as packing the back of the van full of holiday kit.
On both occasions, my three-year-old was in the back, and on both occasions the Transit Custom acquitted itself brilliantly.
Obviously, there’s plenty of room in the load compartment, which means there are few things we have to do without when spending time away from home. But more pertinent to the Trail variant we’ve got here, the mechanical limited slip differential at the front meant it had no trouble finding the available purchase on the slushy motorway surface in the snow. Allowing us to proceed with confidence, even when the weather was against us.
Is the Transit Custom easy to live with?
For the most part, yes. Up front, the cab is not only attractively designed but also full of practical storage – there are multiple cup holders, big door bins, two USB ports and lots of other cubbies.
Many of these are already filled with stuff. If you’re also thinking about fitting a child seat, you might find it useful to know that a rear headrest will fit snugly in the middle door pocket, for instance.
Things are less well appointed in the back, but that’s a compromise we are happy to make for the added practicality of that large load area.
You probably won’t be surprised to learn that the van’s sheer size does require a bit of extra consideration. You’ll find most parking spaces tight and – more importantly – will need to worry about height restrictors.
Ford officially lists the height of an L1H1 Transit Custom like this as ‘1,925-2,000mm’, but I’ve been avoiding anywhere with less than 2.1m (2,100mm) of clearance, just in case. Even then you’ll find the aerial twanging off the lowest points above you. Makes me wince every time.
How’s the fuel economy?
This has turned out to be a very pleasant surprise – especially compared with the Ranger Raptor, which could barely top 25mpg. Even without trying, the Transit Custom is easily into the 30s, and topping 35mpg if I put even a small amount of effort into driving economically.
The van is less powerful (170hp versus 213hp) and front-wheel drive rather than four-wheel drive, and it’s not often fully loaded – all things that contribute significantly to that 10mpg difference. But I don’t think it loses out much in terms of image, and in daily driving it is largely just as pleasant.
Most importantly, I’m happy to be using less fuel – from a greener perspective (I know it’s not some kind of 60mph hybrid but at least it’s something) and given the current price of the stuff.
On which it’s worth noting that if I let the tank get down to the warning light, the bill to refill it is usually £115 or more now.
So what’s the bad news?
Well, the cabin makes some noises I wish it didn’t. There’s some kind of squeak from the driver’s seat, and you get a lot of wind rustle around the sliding door area when travelling faster.
The sliding door also makes a slightly less-than-confidence-inspiring clicking sound when you open it.
I should really pop the van into the local dealer to take a look at these things, but as with most drivers of these things, finding the time is an issue, and for the moment I’m just living with it. Will report back if it all becomes too much to bear.
Miles so far: 3,881
Official fuel economy: 38.7mpg
Actual real world fuel economy: 34.44mpg
Report 1: UK’s bestselling vehicle joins the Parkers long-term test fleet
Yes, yes, I know – the current Ford Transit Custom is due to be replaced in 2023. But like a lot of people, we’ve been waiting a long time for this van to arrive – a situation explained by the sheer popularity of the thing, which in turn makes a long-term test of a Transit Custom relevant, even this late in its life.
This is a vehicle that regularly outsells every other in the UK. Including the cars.
Ford has managed to maintain good availability throughout the pandemic – even though there have been delays – which certainly hasn’t damaged its popularity. But this medium-sized van model also comes in a wide range of variants to sort all kinds of uses, and manages to be among the most practical in the sector while also offering an attractive appearance and near car-like driving experience.
No wonder so many people choose one over the obvious rivals.
What kind of Transit Custom have you got?
We’ve gone for a short-wheelbase Transit Custom Trail with the 170hp 2.0-litre turbodiesel and a double-cab-in-van body – for as with the Ranger Raptor it replaces, this will be functioning as my main family car for the duration of the test. And like the Ranger Raptor, it’s big and black and comes with the in-your-face FORD grille.
It’ll be a trial to keep clean, but looks the absolute business. I loved it even before I’d driven it round the block.
Being a Trail, it also has the front limited-slip differential as standard – which is designed for added traction on slippery surfaces but also gives this van the opportunity to surprise other motorists with its cornering capability – some minor pieces of exterior body-cladding and a hardwearing leather interior.
Given the primary passenger will be my three-year-old daughter, who is quite frankly some kind of minor deity when it comes to the generation of crumbs, the easy-clean nature of these seats will certainly come in handy. She also immediately loves it, by the way, and is safely ensconced in the second row of seats via the included Isofix fittings.
As you’ve probably spotted, the van we’ve managed to get only has a single sliding side door on the passenger side for second-row access, but we’re easily coping with that.
Any extras?
The Shadow Black metallic paint for starters – which at £780 isn’t a small expense, and actually more than the arguably more essential ICE Pack 25.
This £760 bundle includes an 8.0-inch touchscreen infotainment system with sat-nav, Android Auto and Apple CarPlay – but also the Ford Pass Connect modem system, lane keeping aid, adaptive cruise control (which you switch to non-adaptive) and speed sign recognition. The latter would be more useful if it adjusted the posted limit to those legally relevant to vans, but that’s the case with all such devices.
We’ve also got blindspot monitors – very handy, and cheap at £160, especially since they also give you rear cross traffic alert and the ability to account for a trailer. The upgraded high intensity discharge (HID) headlights are also useful; not cheap at £660 but much better than the standard items.
Add that to the basic price – an already eye-watering £42,018 – and we’re rolling in a Transit Custom that lists at £44,378 including VAT. And the VAT is significant on what is essentially a family vehicle.
Initial impressions compared with the Raptor?
It’s got almost as much visual presence, which really is saying something, but seems to get the nod more from other commercial vehicle drivers. The driving position is even higher – which is great for visibility – but you can’t see the nose of the thing, so I keep parking it short and leaving a large gap in front. There are fortunately all-round parking sensors (and a reversing camera) to avoid any over-compensating incidents.
I’m also looking forward to being able to sling things in the back without worry about whether they’ll get rained on – though the trade-off there is that I do have to worry about damaging the ply lining and won’t be able to simply hose it out if it gets filthy. The lining arrived pre-chipped, however, so maybe I just need to get over fretting about minor marks.
The biggest surprise is actually how comfortable it is. From the outside, the rear of the van seems enormously jacked up when it’s unladen, so I was expecting a super-firm ride. But in fact it’s remarkably cushy – not in the same league as the Raptor with its expensive off-road racing shock absorbers, but really rather good for a van. A very pleasant outcome.
However, it is a little noisy in the rear seats. Compared with a double-cab pickup, most double-cab vans are only vaguely trimmed aft of the B-pillar, and this Trail is no exception. This means there’s not much between passengers and the road noise, something I may need to find a solution for, as we do plenty of lengthy motorway journeys.
Performance is great, though, and I’m enjoying driving a vehicle with a manual gearbox again. The Custom’s gearshift is light and car-like, too.
More soon.
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