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Ineos Grenadier - long-term review | Top Gear

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A car built for real jungles rather than urban ones - time to find out if its individuality can win us over

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A car built for real jungles rather than urban ones - time to find out if its individuality can win us over

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A car built for real jungles rather than urban ones - time to find out if its individuality can win us over

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Test one: is it possible to lose an Ineos Grenadier in long grass? It might be 2050mm tall but, yeah, just about. Test two might be trying to fit a two metre tall off-roader into a multi-storey, and you could argue that would be a much more valid experiment, but you’d also be missing the point of what the Grenadier is about. This is a car for real jungles rather than urban ones.

Which in the twisted outlooks of many urban dwellers means it’s the ultimate car for cityscapes (once clad with giant diamond cut alloys). This is mobius band thinking: take two polar opposites and connect them into a continuous loop of pointlessness.

But even used as intended, is the Grenadier out of step with current times? I guess that’s one of the things we’ll be finding out over the next few months. After all, with its clanking mechanicals and churning diesel this ain’t exactly in step with the identikit crossovers that dominate our road network. It’s heavy, vague and brutish to drive.

But thank god for a bit of individuality, even if the individuality in question is largely lifted wholesale from an old Land Rover Defender. That iconic machine looms large over every aspect of the Grenadier. It’s an unenviable task, following in the footsteps of a legend, but the Grenadier isn’t here for whimsical reasons. It’s pragmatic. There’s business to be done. Jim Ratcliffe, the man who set up Ineos Automotive (and also owns Manchester United and sponsors all sorts of top line sports teams including Mercedes F1), created it because he spied a business opportunity. He believed he could nurture new life from old roots.

To what end though? Reinvigorating old ideas isn’t typically a way to attract new customers. Vinyl records might be a success story, but look at telephone boxes, cheque books and other pieces of antique technology. There’s a reason they’re not around any more. Which means that although the business was set up for pragmatic reasons, the product’s appeal is mostly romantic. And limited to a small audience. Smaller still now that Ineos has announced the all-electric Fusilier, due 2027, has been shelved for the foreseeable. I haven’t worked out where Ineos is going to draw new buyers from.

However, while I don’t have the Grenadier at the top of my wish list, it does stir something within me. Soon I'll be rumbling off to the Alps in it. I’m already concerned about wind noise, comfort and family complaints, but laden with kit, it will at least look the part. And it comes across as durable and robust and tough. When I drove a Defender to the Alps a couple of years back the aircon packed up.

So what have we got here? Well, see the little flank badge, with the Union Jack and German flag awkwardly conjoined? That’s a nod to its British roots and design, combined with its BMW powertrain. Then you've got the French flag on the passenger side to reference the old Mercedes factory in Hambach that Ineos bought to stick its Grenadiers together. There’s a chunky ladder frame underneath, supporting either a 3.0-litre six cylinder petrol or diesel mated to an eight speed auto gearbox. This one’s the B57 twin turbo diesel.

All models come with permanent 4WD with a centre diff and low ratio ‘box. You can choose between Trialmaster and Fieldmaster versions. They’re the same price, but the former gets off-road goodies (knobbly tyres, front and rear diff locks), while this Fieldmaster gets more of the ‘luxury’ stuff. Although I’m pretty sure you can get alloy wheels, heated leather seats and carpet mats on a Dacia Sandero, so we’re a long way from real lux here. The safari rooflight windows do bring a nice bit of light in though.

As far as options go, all we have added here is the £1,060 Donny Grey paint, the £630 towbar, side runners for £958, the £241 load space partition net and roof cross bars (£452). All of which adds up to less than the £3,515 winch I was so tempted by and sees this Grenadier come in at a whisker under £80k.

I could have fitted diffs, raised intakes and more, but I reckon this will still be awesomely capable without all of that fitted. After all it’s got masses of ground clearance, has 800mm of wading depth and looks like it could batter its way through anything. That grass didn’t stand a chance.

It’s not for everyone, the Grenadier – I’m not even sure at this stage it’s a car for me – but I do love quirky, interesting cars, and if it turns out to be an enabler, to encourage me to get out there and do more, then it will have been a success in my eyes.

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Test one: is it possible to lose an Ineos Grenadier in long grass? It might be 2050mm tall but, yeah, just about. Test two might be trying to fit a two metre tall off-roader into a multi-storey, and you could argue that would be a much more valid experiment, but you’d also be missing the point of what the Grenadier is about. This is a car for real jungles rather than urban ones.

Which in the twisted outlooks of many urban dwellers means it’s the ultimate car for cityscapes (once clad with giant diamond cut alloys). This is mobius band thinking: take two polar opposites and connect them into a continuous loop of pointlessness.

But even used as intended, is the Grenadier out of step with current times? I guess that’s one of the things we’ll be finding out over the next few months. After all, with its clanking mechanicals and churning diesel this ain’t exactly in step with the identikit crossovers that dominate our road network. It’s heavy, vague and brutish to drive.

But thank god for a bit of individuality, even if the individuality in question is largely lifted wholesale from an old Land Rover Defender. That iconic machine looms large over every aspect of the Grenadier. It’s an unenviable task, following in the footsteps of a legend, but the Grenadier isn’t here for whimsical reasons. It’s pragmatic. There’s business to be done. Jim Ratcliffe, the man who set up Ineos Automotive (and also owns Manchester United and sponsors all sorts of top line sports teams including Mercedes F1), created it because he spied a business opportunity. He believed he could nurture new life from old roots.

To what end though? Reinvigorating old ideas isn’t typically a way to attract new customers. Vinyl records might be a success story, but look at telephone boxes, cheque books and other pieces of antique technology. There’s a reason they’re not around any more. Which means that although the business was set up for pragmatic reasons, the product’s appeal is mostly romantic. And limited to a small audience. Smaller still now that Ineos has announced the all-electric Fusilier, due 2027, has been shelved for the foreseeable. I haven’t worked out where Ineos is going to draw new buyers from.

However, while I don’t have the Grenadier at the top of my wish list, it does stir something within me. Soon I'll be rumbling off to the Alps in it. I’m already concerned about wind noise, comfort and family complaints, but laden with kit, it will at least look the part. And it comes across as durable and robust and tough. When I drove a Defender to the Alps a couple of years back the aircon packed up.

So what have we got here? Well, see the little flank badge, with the Union Jack and German flag awkwardly conjoined? That’s a nod to its British roots and design, combined with its BMW powertrain. Then you've got the French flag on the passenger side to reference the old Mercedes factory in Hambach that Ineos bought to stick its Grenadiers together. There’s a chunky ladder frame underneath, supporting either a 3.0-litre six cylinder petrol or diesel mated to an eight speed auto gearbox. This one’s the B57 twin turbo diesel.

All models come with permanent 4WD with a centre diff and low ratio ‘box. You can choose between Trialmaster and Fieldmaster versions. They’re the same price, but the former gets off-road goodies (knobbly tyres, front and rear diff locks), while this Fieldmaster gets more of the ‘luxury’ stuff. Although I’m pretty sure you can get alloy wheels, heated leather seats and carpet mats on a Dacia Sandero, so we’re a long way from real lux here. The safari rooflight windows do bring a nice bit of light in though.

As far as options go, all we have added here is the £1,060 Donny Grey paint, the £630 towbar, side runners for £958, the £241 load space partition net and roof cross bars (£452). All of which adds up to less than the £3,515 winch I was so tempted by and sees this Grenadier come in at a whisker under £80k.

I could have fitted diffs, raised intakes and more, but I reckon this will still be awesomely capable without all of that fitted. After all it’s got masses of ground clearance, has 800mm of wading depth and looks like it could batter its way through anything. That grass didn’t stand a chance.

It’s not for everyone, the Grenadier – I’m not even sure at this stage it’s a car for me – but I do love quirky, interesting cars, and if it turns out to be an enabler, to encourage me to get out there and do more, then it will have been a success in my eyes.

# data.attributes.field_car_headline
Living with an Ineos Grenadier: is it out of step with current times?

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A car built for real jungles rather than urban ones - time to find out if its individuality can win us over

# data.attributes.field_sub_title
Living with an Ineos Grenadier: is it out of step with current times?

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Ineos Grenadier long term review Top Gear