Let's be frank: there's no question that minivans are among the least sexy vehicles on the planet. Yet I have nothing but respect for them. When it comes to hauling a crowd, I find their low step-in, roominess, headroom and car-like handling far preferable to SUVs or crossovers. Critics have long heralded the Honda Odyssey as the minivan benchmark. After both short and long hauls in it, I have to agree, although that yardstick doesn't come cheap. Odyssey starts at $33,300, and climbs to my top-line Touring tester's hefty $48,100 sticker. All Odyssey models use a 3.5-litre V6, mated to a five-speed automatic, but they are "two-engine" versions. While the horsepower and torque numbers are the same for all, the EX-L and Touring models feature variable cylinder management, which shuts off half the cylinders under light load, such as highway cruising. The transition is seamless, and it pays off at the pumps, where this van turned in an average 9.9 L/100 km for me. Despite that relatively miserly fuel consumption, it's a powerful vehicle, merging seamlessly into highway traffic even with seven adults inside, while remaining quiet and well-refined. Handling is above-average for this type of vehicle: light but very responsive, and with a fairly tight turning radius. I found the brakes somewhat squishy, but they still did an adequate job of bringing it all to a halt. The Touring's high price includes a raft of luxury features. Even the base model comes with a/c, anti-lock brakes, stability control, front seat side airbags, three-row curtain airbags, and power windows and locks. The EX and EX-L models add such things as power sliding doors, sunroof, leather seats and six-CD changer. The Touring tops all with tri-zone automatic climate control, navigation system, backup camera, power-adjustable pedals, power liftgate, and rear DVD system, including a remote that cleverly snaps into the ceiling for storage. It's a lot of stuff, and subsequently, a lot of buttons – more than 40 of them across the dash and centre stack, so be sure to watch the road. The navigation system could be a bit more intuitive, and some of its controls are hard to reach behind the shift lever, which is mounted on the dash. You'll want to spend some time in the driveway mastering all of the systems before you get out on the road, since there's too much on the complicated stack to be learning on the fly; even the climate control has a bit of a learning curve. Interior quality is top-notch, and there are all kinds of little touches: zippered pockets on the seatbacks, a 115-volt power outlet, fold-down table between the front seats, opening second-row windows with sunshades, and plenty of small-item bins and cubbies. The Touring includes a removable console between the second-row seats; take it out and you can move the passenger-side seat against its neighbour, which opens a wider space by the right-hand sliding door for easier access to the third row. It's a great idea if you consistently fill the rear seats with adults (if you carpool, say) and three will fit easily and comfortably in it. The EX and EX-L trim lines include a small seat that fits between the two larger ones, giving the seven-passenger Odyssey an eighth seat, doing double duty as a console tray, or stowing away entirely if not required. All models have in-floor storage bins ahead of the second-row seats – the floor mats are shaped so they don't have to be removed to access them – and on the Touring, there's a removable Lazy Susan bin inside that will hold up to 10 kg. The second-row seats don't fold into the floor – that's still a Chrysler exclusive – but they are removable, and once the third row is stowed, you've got a flat cargo floor that's easy to load, thanks to a low rear liftover. Dropping and raising the third row is extremely easy, and is done in a single motion. Minivans have gotten a bad rap in recent years, dismissed as "soccer mom" vehicles, dropped entirely by some auto makers, and aggressively pushed out by "crossover" vehicles – which are, in effect, small minivans that don't want to be called minivans. But there's still some life to them, and with reason. If I have to be the one in that third-row seat, I'll take the stigma over stuffed-in any day of the week. |