Volkswagen Tayron review

Serene. Almost eerily so. The main thing that strikes you is just how well VW has protected the cabin from external sounds – aside from some slight wind noise at higher speeds, you barely hear passing traffic or commotion. It’s deeply calming.

Body control is also incredibly well resolved. On the DCC suspension the Tayron brushes off corners no matter how vigorously you enter them. The thing that makes you rein it in isn’t the limits of adhesion but the seats: there’s not much lateral support there, so you’ll keep it sensible at all times.

Other than being Quite Large, the Tayron doesn’t feel cumbersome around town. And on the motorway it’s relaxed and predictable. You could quite fairly call it boring, but that doesn’t give it the credit it deserves for dispatching normal driving quite so consummately.

Isn’t adaptive suspension a bit much for a family hauler?

Arguably not, if your aim is to keep a juggernaut like this in check and its occupants from rejecting their breakfast. All told you get 15 levels of suspension softness to choose from, or three go-to presets: Comfort, Normal and Sport. Weirdly, neither Comfort nor Sport are the softest or firmest settings, with a couple of stops either side of those. Nope, us neither.

Is it worth forking out an extra grand for it? We can’t tell you that because we’ve not tried the standard set-up yet. When it comes to the closely-related Kodiaq – which also gets the same trick chassis control – we reckon you can live without it. But the Tayron is a different proposition, and one where max cushioning makes sense.

Predictably there are modes, which tweak the steering and throttle as well as the ride. All much of a muchness, really. Go for Individual and pick your favourites. Then never touch it again.

Which of the many engines should I have?

Good question. For what it’s worth, VW reckons just south of half of all Tayrons sold in the UK will be PHEVs, with around 40 per cent projected for the mild hybrid. Doesn’t leave much room for the two petrols or diesel, does it?

Of the non-PHEVs that we tested, the more powerful 2.0-litre petrol (with its 261bhp and 295lb ft) was the most rounded of all. Smooth, responsive, and not too shouty or gutless. And we saw 30mpg versus a lab claim of 35.7mpg. Not too bad. We haven’t tried the lesser powered 2.0 yet, but that’ll surely get found out sooner when laden with people and stuff.

The 2.0-litre diesel needs to be worked harder, so you’ll hear it complaining more often. And why spoil such a chilled environment? In an hour of mixed driving we managed 46mpg against a claim of 50.9, so it’s got the consumption argument going for it. But you really need to be PHEV-phobic to go there.

Especially as the plug-ins will tow just as much – 2,000kg braked, 750kg unbraked. We had a brief go in the more potent one (268bhp, 295lb ft, 0-62mph in 7.3s) and even with the engine off it felt keen and swift, with no sign of the electronics mucking up the handover between regen and brake pad. VW quotes 73 miles of e-range, so bank on about 50 in decent weather.

And what of the mild-hybrid? Like the diesel it’s rather slow and needs cajoling, although the 42mpg we extracted compares well to the official 44.1mpg. On balance, we’d avoid.