Peugeot 607

Road test

The 607, spiritually, is a car from another age. Oh sure, it's not that old, but nevertheless it's a reminder of a market sector that no longer exists: the large executive sector for mainstream manufacturers.

With no latter-day Ford Granadas, Vauxhall Senators, Renault Safranes or Citroen XMs for the 607 to square up to, it's hard to know where to place it. Citroen and Ford have vacated the market altogether, and Vauxhall and Renault's big guns have changed the object of their fire somewhat. The 607 does what big Peugeots have always done: it is a large, three-box saloon.

So, the 607 is profoundly unfashionable. With people either wanting their exec motors weird or prestigious these days, Peugeot's longest has only the quality of the product to sustain it, rather than any sort of ingratiating image.

I imagine, in the long run, that the 607 would be an endearing car to own. Initially you might be frustrated by the 2.0 HDi's lack of grunt, or by the fact that no-one recognises the car, or by the chassis's spongy handling responses. But as a cruiser, a comfortable express for drifitng up and down the motorway, you'd have no complaints.

The 607's interior feels rather dated nowadays. A plainly styled dashboard twinkles with some rather cheesy wood inlays and chrome strips, whilst the velour seats and door trims are functional yet uninspired. The 607 has masses of space inside though; it will seat five comfortably and has a cavernous boot.

To get the most from the 607 you should hold back from exploring the car's limits - it's not that kind of vehicle. If you started to think about your driving you'd notice a ponderous gearchange from the five-speed 'box and bundles of body roll. Far better just to waft around taking up more than your share of road space, letting the ride cosset you like a Radox bath and arrive at your destination more relaxed than when you left.

If you adopt this attitude you may be happiest with an automatic gearbox, which means specifying the larger 2.2 HDi engine and finding an extra £1200 over this basic 2.0 HDi. But if you're happy doing the gear work yourself, the 2.0 does represent brilliant value for money, at least in terms of square feet of steel per pound.

At £19,720 it's cheaper than the lowliest BMW 3-Series diesel: if you want that badge of distinction you'll really have to dig deep for it. More pertinently, the 607 is £1700 less than the entry-level Renault Vel Satis diesel. The trouble is, of course, that a low list price is all very well until you consider depreciation.

The 607 will drop faster than an England slip fielder, and the only people who won't care will be cabbies who run their cars into the ground. This means you may end up looking like a cabbie too, even if you think barging around in a huge, surprisingly graceful saloon car makes you look cool. The 607, I'm afraid is so uncool it's warm - but being warm is nice and comfortable, and sometimes that's all you want.

Toby Richards-Carpenter