After two separate long term stints in a black Citroen C5, Calvin wraps up his experience with La Baguette Deux
WILL YOU LOT please stop buying my baguettes? Seriously, twice during this year I’ve gotten a call from the friendly folks at Citroën saying, ‘Oh, about that C5 we lent you, we’ve accidentally sold it so… cheers!’ Oh dear, have I done too good a job selling you lot my C5 experience? Let’s see what we can glean from my final wrap-up.
EXTERIOR While its many ornate details have been bolted on correctly and nothing has fallen off, the C5 is still very much a love-it-or-hate-it design. Personally I love it, I’ve been a fan ever since I saw a silver example roll into a rainy parking lot two years ago. It’s muscular yet elegant, pumped up but pared away in the right places and in black retains that old school gangster element that’s now fading from modern BMW saloons. It’s not everyone’s cup of coffee, which brings me neatly to the interior.
INTERIOR The bane of my existence with both cars has been an almost total lack of cup holders! Seriously, at this price and with this much kit on board, why is there no plastic hoop to hug my java? I say almost because if you look in the armrest you’ll find just such a stowaway ring, but it really is perfectly useless. Elsewhere it’s Starship Enterprise spec: cruise control, Bluetooth, USB and Aux inputs and cellphone syncing to a lavish sound system as a start. Leather abounds and in the comfy driver pew (electronically adjustable and heated, as is the front passenger’s) you even have an electronic masseuse. Ergonomics felt quirky initially but feel second nature now, and that fixed steering boss at the centre of a twirling rim remains the car’s retro party trick harking back to Citroëns of the past. The dash is a drab chock of plastic and lets down the cabin’s posh levels somewhat . The Germans do this bit rather better. Fit and finish is okay – good in places, not so
lekker in others, most notably the door pulls which creak and squeak in protest when grabbed. Overall the premium feel is just short of the Teutons.
PERFORMANCE AND HANDLING Both my C5s have been the 2.0 HDI turbodiesel model with conventional suspension (double wishbone front, multilink rear) and front-wheel drive versus the 3.0 HDI’s adaptive air suspension and all-wheel drive. A 1.6THP turbo petrol C5 is now also in the line-up. The 2.0 HDI puts out a boosted 120kW and 340Nm, accessed via a smooth six-speed auto. The drivetrain lacks the resolve and refinement of a similar Audi and the car is nowhere near as pointy, offering master class wafting instead, thanks to unhurried power delivery and a cushioned ride that irons out corrugated dirt and gravel and covers good Tarmac as though it were polished glass. The downside? Look for your adrenaline fix elsewhere. My fuel economy matched the Citroën brochure with a frugal 6.8ℓ/100km, and that included a recent across-country jaunt to Pretoria and back – exactly the kind of travelling the C5 was built for.
WHAT WENT WRONG? We’re a family of five including three boisterous young lads so by default life can get hard for a long-termer. Still,
La Baguette held up fantastically with collateral damage limited to a pair of clips that hold up the rear window blinds. Beyond my control was a cracked passenger side window caused I suspect by a stone flung out by a hard charging passing truck. A week after delivery of the original car the air conditioning packed up which necessitated a two-day visit to the dealership. Its first service saw it missing in action for the same period. On the second car, the massaging seat has stopped working and it seems to think it is due for a second service at 30 000km, which it isn’t. Nothing fell off in these 12 months. At no point was I left stranded. Nice one, Frenchie!
VERDICT At R374 045 the Citroen C5 2.0 HDI is not cheap, but look at the list of kit you get and the handsome metal it’s rolled into and you’ll agree it represents value for money. It has character too, in Gucci bagfuls. It also straddles the line between the D and E segments, effectively giving you big car dimensions and kit for D segment money. It’s rare too, since only two or three have been sold monthly over the last half year. Also, I’d be worried about the terminal depreciation on a two-year-old French car. Despite this, over our one-year loan period it has been a pleasure to return to. It’s the ultimate family man companion thanks to its easygoing nature and quirky charms.
Bon adieu La Baguette Deux!