Road Test: Mini Cooper S All4 Countryman

To understand the context of the Mini Countryman, one has to delve back into the murky past of Britain’s crumbling automotive prospects in the late 1960’s. Lord Stokes, the new chairman of the then named British Motor Corporation (BMC) was desperate to leverage the success of Alec Issigonis’ complete brilliance that was the Morris and Austin Mini.

Over fish and chips, brown ale and cigarettes, BMC management worked out that they needed a more profitable brand extension to the fabulous and wholly worthy Mini. So they wheeled Alec Issigonis’ to create homage to the Mini. He created a monster called the Maxi.

This beast was launched in Oporto, Portugal, on 24 April 1969, in an expensive blaze of futile publicity and had the dubious accolade of being one of the first cars to appear on the BBC’s new car programme Wheelbase, a forerunner to Top Gear. It boasted a front wheel drive chassis and a five speed ‘box. It was a truly horrid thing, beset with more than its fair share of problems. On the positive side though, it was known as the 100 mph bed, because it topped out at a wheezy 160 km/h and the front seats folded flat to create a bed like experience. Nightmares and loss of virginity being an almost standard feature.

Fast-forward 40 years and BMW, the new owners of Mini, are keen to leverage the success of the their highly regarded new Mini. So they have also had meetings, this time at the BMW Tower, over Sauerkraut and Weizenbier and they have come up with the Mini Countryman.! This too is meant to leverage the success of Alec Issigonis’ completely brilliant Morris and Austin Mini. Sound familiar, anyone? This Austrian built derivative of the Mini is something that Mini South Africa believes will attract people whose lifestyle didn’t fit in with their ‘new’ Mini or its niche Clubman sibling. The Countryman is aimed at trendy, affluent families and we have to hope that it’s the biggest Mini there will ever be. Please.

The Countryman that BMW sent me to sample for six days was a range-topping, four-wheel-drive ALL4 Cooper S, costing a bond-extending R393 000. It feels immediately bigger than the new ‘regular’ Mini, and you feel like you’re sitting in a higher position than normal hatches like a Megane or a Golf. The taller tyres help to make the ride slightly more compliant and it’s mostly successful in achieving a better ride than the Mini Cooper S. The engine is very willing and if you have never experienced the normal Cooper S, you’d never know that the weight of the four-wheel-drive technology has blunted the cars performance. The car does feel smooth and very urgent when it is called upon to perform.

Do you need four-wheel drive with this chassis and engine combo? Nope. Not unless you live in the Ceres mountains in the winter, trapped in a “Ground-Hog Day” kind of scenario. I found the car to be a bit skittish on straight, pockmarked roads, although this is a characteristic of the ‘normal’ Mini. But yet the handling is superb. It grips tenaciously and allows hooligan behaviour to be rewarded with indecently quick progress along twisty roads.

Inside, the car is not that convincing for my tastes. The switchgear is over the top; the speedo is bigger than a dustbin lid, the evocative rocker switches are located low on the centre console and difficult to locate without taking your eyes off the road. Oh, and the handbrake! It looks like a Mr. Price inspired aircraft throttle and your elbow collides with the centre arm-rest/oddments bin every time you use it. That, together with the useless sliding sunglass casket mounted on the central slider is an ergonomic basket case. Yet I wonder if that is going to matter one jot to the people that buy it?

If you had considered a Clubman and not bought it because of practicality issues, you’ll be a whole lot happier in the Countryman. The car will happily fit at least four burly men (or women for that matter) in the car and drive reasonable distances in manageable comfort. But tell your mates to leave most of their luggage at home. This car is 4 097 mm long, pretty much on a par with your typical supermini and its boot is just 350-litres. Small overnight bags at the ready, then.

Should you drive a fair amount, like I do, you will probably engage the services of a satellite navigation device. The Mini’s system is really superb, with the screen nestling inside the giant central speedo dial. The high tech device feels strangely at home with the ‘old-school’ switches and dials. Employing the little joystick down behind the gearstick, it condenses BMW’s iDrive into the size of a Mont Blanc pen. It works perfectly well and points the way to future BMW navigation ideas.

I do wonder about the cars’ exterior and interior trinkets lasting over the long term, but we’ll have to wait and see the results of long-term tests. The weaker and cheaper bits and bobs here and there may suffer, but the overall impression and perception is one of high quality. But Marc Girad’s (head of Interior Design at BMW Automobiles) obsession with circles made me feel like I was trapped inside a giant Aero chocolate bar. Too many bubbles for my liking.

As much as this Mini has split opinion in our motoring family and those we have polled, there’s no doubt that this car has moved the game on from the Clubman. Is it a perfect family car? It’s not and it’s very expensive, particularly as the entry level Mini Cooper Countryman in the United Kingdom is around R195 000, whilst it starts at R287 500 here. Mini will tell you that the South African Mini is far better specified than its equivalent British version. Granted. But it would be nice to have the choice of buying an entry-level car, opening the marque up to a bigger market. After all, part of the Mini experience is choosing your chosen options available thereby personalising your car.

The Countryman is a strikingly well designed and bolted together product, but it is being rapidly caught up to by Renault, Hyundai and other, perhaps unlikely competitors. So has Mini created a monster worthy of its Austin Maxi grand dad? No, the Countryman’s not a bad car. This time Mini have managed to keep much of the Mini zest in place. The steering is direct and responsive, making the Countryman a keen performer, and while the ride is sometimes unsettled on South African roads, it does settle down nicely at higher speeds, particularly in sixth gear. It’s costly but oh so trendy and the pretty yummie mummies will absolutely love it. With this, I believe that Mini will sell every one they can lay their hands on.

What we like…

• Modern interpretation and bold re-imagining of original concept.
• Swift and chuckable.
• Seriously cheeky persona. “Cool Britania’ in a Germanic kind of way.

What we would like…

• Proper entry-level versions. Steel wheels, bereft of expensive options.
• Go easy on the circles, dude.
• No bigger Mini’s, please. Remember the Maxi!

Richard Webb is the publisher of Blower, South Africa’s longest running car magazine and contributor to SACarFan.

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