Mini Countryman JCW - long-term review

Ooh, it’s an eager beaver, this Mini. The kind of chirpy, chirruping character that never pipes down. I’m not even talking about the warning bongs and beeps (those can be stifled pretty easily it turns out). No, it’s the constant, ceaseless reminders that you’re driving a Mini that bug me.

I just want it to settle down, but instead it’s a barrage of distraction. ‘Look at my circular screen!’, it shouts, ‘and have you seen one of my steering wheel spokes is actually a fabric strap?! And look at my knitted dash, see how it looks like it might be on fire? That’s cool isn’t it? Just as well it isn't, because it's made of recycled polyester. And at night there’s lights behind it which is even cooler. Or hotter. You can change the colours too, there’s loads to choose from. And look down here, did you see the jazzy clutch bag cubby between the seats? What’s that? No, you can’t remove it! Or lock it! Why don’t you try another experience, there’s loads to choose from! There’s Trail and there’s Vivid and there’s Timeless and there’s Core and there’s Go Kart and there’s Green and there’s Bala…’

And so on and so on. It’s the car that’s been bought up on a strict diet of Haribo, so it behaves like it’s sat behind you, gripping the headrest pillars, shaking the seat and yelling in your ear. You try to concentrate on the road, which shouldn’t be too difficult because the seat is comfortable and the driving position is good, but the cabin is always jiggling at the periphery, trying to catch your eye.

I suppose in some ways this is a good thing. This new Countryman is less chintzy than the previous two generations, less self-consciously retro, which is a good move. It wants you to engage with it and enjoy being sat in it and occasionally I feel curmudgeonly for rejecting its boundless enthusiasm.

But ultimately all it is doing is steering you back to using that central screen. Everything lurks in there. Somewhere. I’m not quite sure where exactly, because the layout is so breezily upbeat that it's as if it’s playing games with you. Off you trot into the menus maze and it’s all ‘not there, silly!’ and ‘warmer, no colder. Ooh, you’re getting hot now!’

Then I discovered two very helpful things. A plain button on the far left of the toggle row that, when pressed, brings up the ADAS settings, allowing swift disengagement of the bongs, beeps and helping hands. And there are shortcuts. Yes, you have to spend time setting up your preferences, but then a swipe up from the bottom of the screen brings up navigation destinations, music choices, phone numbers and so on.

I know what you're thinking. Just use CarPlay. About that. The screen is circular. It doesn't play nicely with CarPlay, which is forced into a small central square, which works for no-one. It’s turned me back to using the built-in sat nav. And you know what? It’s good. I don’t get Waze’s useful speed camera warnings and crafty back road route plotting, but it’s good enough. And it doesn’t dazzle in the dark like CarPlay always seems to. And those shortcuts do work into CarPlay if you want to pull up Spotify and Waze.

But a final gripe: those Experiences. There are nine of them and none of them does anything to the suspension. Yes, Go Kart adds a bit of steering weight and sharpens the throttle, but really they are not about the driving, they are about ambient lighting, calming thoughts, screen displays, on board wellness, chakras, personal mindfulness and spiritual awakening. Select one and its arrival is heralded with a whoop, birdsong, jungle beat or whale fart, interrupting my podcast and making me grind my teeth.

Look Mini, the bubbly personality stuff is bad enough, but the whole wellness vibe? If you’re going to do it, go the whole hog and give me a joss stick holder.