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Dacia Duster Journey Hybrid - long-term review - Report No:8

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Dacia Duster Journey Hybrid - long-term review - Report No:8 | Top Gear

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After eight months of daily driving, video shoots, nursery drop-offs and road trips, here's what we've learned...

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Dacia Duster Journey Hybrid - long-term review - Report No:8

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After eight months of daily driving, video shoots, nursery drop-offs and road trips, here's what we've learned...

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After eight months of daily driving, video shoots, nursery drop-offs and road trips, here's what we've learned...

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Dacia Duster Journey Hybrid - long-term review - Report No:8

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And just like that, my time with the Dacia Duster is up. After eight months and more than 4,000 miles of daily driving, video shoots, nursery drop-offs and the occasional road trip, it’s time to hand back the key. And do you know what? I’m going to miss it.

I’ll admit, when the Duster first arrived, I sensed a bit of snobbery about myself. I’d spent a lot of time in cars surrounded by soft-touch materials, temperature-controlled seats and mood lighting, and I’d lost touch with the fact that you just don’t need all of that. Of course you pay the premium for the nice stuff, but the Duster is the antidote to brands that feel the need to cram as many features as possible into their cars. Here’s looking at you, Hyundai, with your UV sterilisation chamber. Who actually asked for that?

Anyway, I’ve driven 4,269 miles in the Duster, and it’s averaged a respectable 49.4mpg. That’s not far off the official WLTP figure of 56.5mpg, and given most of those miles were done with a boot full of camera gear, I’ll take that as a win. It’d definitely not fast, but at least it’s frugal.

Speaking of camera gear, the Duster’s not let me down on practicality. One quick tip though: the boot comes with a removable false floor to help level out the loading area, but I took that out almost immediately, and it’s lived under my sofa ever since. Having full access to the extra space beneath is far more useful day-to-day. Then there’s the rubber floor mats that have been great for messy days, and the YouClip system (which if you’ve read my previous reports, you’ll know I’m rather fond of it) which is still going strong.

The infotainment, which initially suffered from the occasional glitch, has thankfully sorted itself out thanks to an OTA update and the multiview camera remains great for threading through width restrictors and kerbside parking.

As for the full-hybrid drivetrain, since it’s the only one with an auto box, it’s the one I’d go for despite the heftier asking price. Living in London with a manual gearbox is just painful, making the hybrid’s auto box and nippier acceleration off-the-line worth the extra spend. But more importantly, it’s been mechanically flawless.

Out on the open road, it rides as well as you’d hope, but it gets noisy on the motorway and the traffic sign recognition system is woeful, resulting in lots of irritating bongs. But these are minor gripes, especially when Dacia gives you a dedicated button to turn off all those bongs. After spending time in the new Audi A5 Avant recently, I cannot stress enough how refreshing it is not to have to navigate through multiple layers of touchscreen menus just to stop the car’s safety systems shouting at you. One button, two presses. Sanity restored.

As it turns out, I’m not the only one who’s come around to the Duster. Dacia announced earlier this year that it’s now sold over 2.5 million Dusters since 2010. That’s enough to give every single person in the Bucharest metropolitan area their very own Duster. Imagine that, a weirdly appealing sight to behold.

So yes, the Duster might be simple. But it’s honest. And these days, that counts for a lot. In a world of overly complicated cars stuffed with features nobody really asked for, simplicity is something I’ve come to genuinely admire. Would I recommend one? Without a doubt.

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And just like that, my time with the Dacia Duster is up. After eight months and more than 4,000 miles of daily driving, video shoots, nursery drop-offs and the occasional road trip, it’s time to hand back the key. And do you know what? I’m going to miss it.

I’ll admit, when the Duster first arrived, I sensed a bit of snobbery about myself. I’d spent a lot of time in cars surrounded by soft-touch materials, temperature-controlled seats and mood lighting, and I’d lost touch with the fact that you just don’t need all of that. Of course you pay the premium for the nice stuff, but the Duster is the antidote to brands that feel the need to cram as many features as possible into their cars. Here’s looking at you, Hyundai, with your UV sterilisation chamber. Who actually asked for that?

Anyway, I’ve driven 4,269 miles in the Duster, and it’s averaged a respectable 49.4mpg. That’s not far off the official WLTP figure of 56.5mpg, and given most of those miles were done with a boot full of camera gear, I’ll take that as a win. It’d definitely not fast, but at least it’s frugal.

Speaking of camera gear, the Duster’s not let me down on practicality. One quick tip though: the boot comes with a removable false floor to help level out the loading area, but I took that out almost immediately, and it’s lived under my sofa ever since. Having full access to the extra space beneath is far more useful day-to-day. Then there’s the rubber floor mats that have been great for messy days, and the YouClip system (which if you’ve read my previous reports, you’ll know I’m rather fond of it) which is still going strong.

The infotainment, which initially suffered from the occasional glitch, has thankfully sorted itself out thanks to an OTA update and the multiview camera remains great for threading through width restrictors and kerbside parking.

As for the full-hybrid drivetrain, since it’s the only one with an auto box, it’s the one I’d go for despite the heftier asking price. Living in London with a manual gearbox is just painful, making the hybrid’s auto box and nippier acceleration off-the-line worth the extra spend. But more importantly, it’s been mechanically flawless.

Out on the open road, it rides as well as you’d hope, but it gets noisy on the motorway and the traffic sign recognition system is woeful, resulting in lots of irritating bongs. But these are minor gripes, especially when Dacia gives you a dedicated button to turn off all those bongs. After spending time in the new Audi A5 Avant recently, I cannot stress enough how refreshing it is not to have to navigate through multiple layers of touchscreen menus just to stop the car’s safety systems shouting at you. One button, two presses. Sanity restored.

As it turns out, I’m not the only one who’s come around to the Duster. Dacia announced earlier this year that it’s now sold over 2.5 million Dusters since 2010. That’s enough to give every single person in the Bucharest metropolitan area their very own Duster. Imagine that, a weirdly appealing sight to behold.

So yes, the Duster might be simple. But it’s honest. And these days, that counts for a lot. In a world of overly complicated cars stuffed with features nobody really asked for, simplicity is something I’ve come to genuinely admire. Would I recommend one? Without a doubt.

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Time's up with the Dacia Duster: would we recommend this simple and honest crossover?

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After eight months of daily driving, video shoots, nursery drop-offs and road trips, here's what we've learned...

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Time's up with the Dacia Duster: would we recommend this simple and honest crossover?

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Usage and meaning of the 'virtual' resource identifier.