BMW i5 Touring vs Mercedes E-Class Estate
If it’s a large electrified estate you’re after, it’s been slim pickings... but now the BMW i5 Touring and Mercedes E300e have entered the fray. Which should you choose?
What's odd about the picture up top? No, not Geronimo (but we'll come to our inflatable unicorn friend in a bit), you’re looking for something that’s missing. Yep... where is Volvo? Scandinavia’s finest left the estate car family group chat last summer, having mercilessly purged anything that wasn’t an SUV from its UK line-up. Middle England mourned. But no sooner had we resolved to pitching BMW and Mercedes’s would-be heirs to the big posh wagon throne head to head, Volvo reversed its plan. You can now order a V90 again. Order is restored.
No fully electric Swedish wagons yet, mind. Porsche’s got the Taycan Cross Turismo, but it’s more lifestyle than substance, and as far as electric goes, that’s it. Until you scroll down to the MG5 end of the menu. Not today, thank you. There’s a smattering of plug-in hybrids of course, but all come with compromises. Usually in the boot. Hold that thought...
Which brings us to these two: the new BMW i5 Touring and Mercedes E-Class Estate, two very different attempts at keeping the genre alive. The BMW’s the EV – embracing all that comes with instant power and a whopping battery – and the Merc's PHEV, having its cake and eating it with both combustion and e-propulsion. So let’s get one thing straight from the outset: we’re not comparing like for like. There’s more than one route up the Matterhorn, we’re here to find out which gets us closer to the summit.
Photography: Jonny Fleetwood
The BMW’s the newest, so we’ll start there. This is the eDrive40 and it’s the pick of the litter (... of two), sending 335bhp and 295lb ft to the rear wheels. In the context of today’s head to head (and its bonkers M60 sibling with its near 600bhp), that’s plenty. And it’s in this configuration that you get the most out of the 81.2kWh battery – 332 miles by the WLTP book. Real world? Chop 100 off that number. And that’s before you start loading it up. Peak charging is 205kW, so 10–80 per cent top ups take half an hour.
With twice as many power sources, the E300e takes twice the explaining. Under the bonnet there’s a 2.0-litre 4cyl petrol good for 201bhp on its own, but combined with a 127bhp motor headline output jumps to 308bhp and 406lb ft. No trying to use the motor to fashion AWD here, everything goes to the back axle. Then there’s the battery – 25.4kWh is pretty chunky by plug-in standards, and 59 miles of electric driving is far more than the average middle manager needs to get to work and back. You have to wonder if Mercedes was desperate to keep the BiK rate low (more e-range means less tax), and so just chucked lithium-ion at the problem.
Credit where it’s due though, Mercedes has nailed the hybrid integration. The blending of hydrocarbon exploding and electrons flowing is so seamless that a nuclear sub would struggle to sniff it out, and the brake pedal – though a bit spongy and long in travel – doesn’t let on when regen hands over to pads and vice versa. All of which leans into the E-Class’s already relaxed, easygoing nature.
But that’s modern Mercedes all over isn’t it? At some point it decided that making dynamics a top priority was a waste of time, and shifted even further towards isolation rather than involvement of the driver. Don’t get me wrong, you can hustle the E-Class and it’ll pivot sharply about its centre if you grab it by the haunches. But why would you want to? The four-cylinder engine sounds harsh – so no aural reward to be had there – and it’s so pillowy and removed from the road that eventually you stop looking for the encouragement to take things up a notch.
The i5 doesn’t need a second invitation. Its vastly firmer ride and immediate throttle response tell you it’s good to go the moment you are. That ‘Boost’ paddle behind the wheel (for bursts of max output) is a constant temptation, staring at you like a toddler who wants you to come and play. Now. When the road opens up I give in, and it vaults forward with such force that the Mercedes disappears in the rearview mirror. Straights, corners, it doesn’t matter: it simply can’t keep up.
What I will say is that the i5 feels less planted as an estate. BMW points towards ‘almost’ perfect 50:50 weight distribution, but while the saloon is unshakable, this gets skittish at seven-tenths. Like being slightly more top heavy has taken it out of its sweet spot. Our first impression of the Touring was immaculate, but that was on glassy European roads and with the benefit of fancy adaptive suspension. Beachy Head is a bit more, um, rugged, and here we have BMW’s M Sport setup riding 5mm lower, albeit with air chambers on the rear axle for self-levelling. Just the same as the E-Class, come to think of it.
The difference is the Merc is consistent, the BMW isn’t. At speed its suppleness over bumps is uncanny, but at a slower pace it’s fidgety. Bothersomely so. Photographer Jonny – the proud owner of a G31 5 Series, no less – jumps in for a tracking shot and within seconds his verdict is, “Ooh, that’s very pingy". Question the judgement of a man fine-tuned to detect camera shake at your peril. And the longer we spend wafting along the coastline in these two side by side, the more it dawns on us that the BMW... can be hard work. The Merc is far more liveable.
You can see this in the cabins too, although much less vividly. Mercedes has made some inexplicable choices with its interiors of late (there’s a reason TV remotes don’t have haptic buttons), but none more so than the huge real estate given to screenage nowadays. You see, Merc thinks the next automotive wrestling match will be fought over tech and software, so it’s going all in with apps, selfie cameras and AI learning before someone else does. The result is information overload. Distraction City. OTT ‘R’ Us.
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But when it comes to the fit and finish it treads a much more familiar path. The chrome has been dialled back and the leather – on account of not being black, more than anything – lifts the mood in this trim. The use of wood in the centre console to tie everything together is – dare I say it – very Volvo. It’s almost enough to make you forget about the 1:18 scale Piccadilly Circus glaring back at you.
BMW is also making mistakes. Its last generation of cars arguably had the best ergonomics in the world, but as things have got even more digital and connected, it’s stumbled. The touchscreen now takes centre stage: in a car that should want you to focus on driving, it gets too much of your attention too often. Exhibit A: notice how the vents have been engineered out of view. Less visual clutter, fair enough. But that means you have to aim them via a sub-menu, and they’re opened/closed with – drumroll please – touch sensitive sliders. Who signed off something so darn fiddly?
Anyway, time for the elephant in the room. Or unicorn in the estate. Above all else these things are movers of people and stuff, ergo this is the key metric. Fail at this, and you’re toast.
People first. As you’d expect, the E-Class has the more enveloping seats, but even these could be more shapely to brace against lateral movement. But in terms of outright comfort, no complaints. In the i5, the seat bolsters give you a hug (for physical support, not emotional) when you engage Sport mode. Nice touch. Out back, the Mercedes again has the upper hand; with no battery under the floor, foot room is more generous and your thighs aren’t angled as high. The slopier roofline has pinched a bit of headroom, mind. Both cars suffer from a tunnel under the middle seat, so it’s children or contortionists only there.
Poor Geronimo has to have his head deflated so he and 60 beach balls fit in the E-Class
Stuff next. The i5 Touring makes a strong opening argument: with 570 litres of space in the boot or 1,700 with the seats down, it’s exactly as practical as every other version of 5 Series estate that’ll follow it. That’s some feat of packaging. What you see is what you get: there’s no frunk, and while there’s some space under the boot floor, you’ll get a charging cable in there and not much else. The loading sill is wide and the floor flat, the back seats easily dropped with a pull of the levers. There’s a button back here for the towbar if you’ve specced it, and it’s locked and loaded in seconds. Impressive. The big miss is that the split tailgate is no more, scrapped because BMW reckons owners weren’t using it. For shame.
But the E-Class... deary me, what happened here? It can only muster 460/1,675 litres seats up/down because Mercedes had to plonk the battery under the boot floor. That’s a 155-litre hit over the petrol and diesel. Which were already down on the old W213. What’s worse is the boot wasn’t deep enough for the hybrid gubbins, so what you actually get is a raised floor with a bump above the load lip. That puts a serious dent in its tip run credentials. And clearly no one was thinking of poor Geronimo, who has to have his head deflated so he and 60 beach balls can be made to fit back there with the lid shut. Don’t look, kids.
Can people be lured back to estates, or is it too little too late? Let’s be honest, this is a question for the i5, since full electric (but for a sudden bout of pragmatism among lawmakers) is where things are going. Clearly BMW is onto something: it’s shown that you can arrange a leccy estate in a way that makes sense, and will surely improve as batteries get denser and lighter. But in the here and now, that’s the problem isn’t it? Who’s going to sign up for a sub-250-mile i5 Touring and its half-hour turnaround when an old 520d will do three times that and be ready for Round 2 in a matter of seconds?
Audi’s A6 Avant e-tron is coming later this year. There’s a lot riding on it, because this flawed first generation of electric estates is in danger of being the last. Back to you, Volvo...