Mercedes-Benz C 250 Estate 2015: Long-Term Test Update 3

The punters on the street can instantly identify our long-term test C 250 Estate as a Mercedes-Benz. There are plenty of tell-tales, not least of all the big three-pointed star in the grille.

What they don't see is how inconspicuously the C-Class wagon in this configuration punches above its weight. Even those on-board – including the driver – often fail to appreciate just how competent this car is across a range of criteria.

Examples abound, if you look for them. They're everywhere, whether it's the way the doors close, how the engine can produce the goods whatever the prevailing need, or even just the intriguing design of the audio speakers.

You would struggle to find any car that can match the 205-series C-Class for the simple process of closing a door. A gentle thrust of the hand will be enough, and the doors feel incongruously light AND solid as they latch.

As for that engine, it's subtle. There's no sudden surge of turbo boost in the mid-range, no untoward coarseness or fainthearted performance in the higher rev range. Irrespective of whether hauling up a long hill at low revs or screaming through a series of hairpin bends, the turbocharged four-cylinder is always up to the task.

Displacing 2.0 litres, the engine produces V6-like torque, but it never feels as stodgy in its power delivery as undersquare four-cylinder engines often do. And the C 250 certainly is an undersquare design – with a bore measuring 83mm and stroke of 92mm – yet it spins up to the redline freely and without labouring.

In character the engine feels like a smaller-capacity unit when working hard, but also lazier and unfussed when it's cruising along. Acceleration is linear from almost anywhere in the rev range, and it's equally refined at low and high revs. All that said it's not an especially sporty-sounding powerplant – presumably as a concession to efficiency and emissions legislation. It frankly sounds just a little sanitised.

Posted fuel consumption was 9.0L/100km during a week that included the Easter break and saw us on the open road more often than commuting. More time spent driving around town would have resulted in a figure above 10.

The C 250 Estate turned out to be a rather quiet car, with virtually zero drivetrain noise evident at speed. While cruising, a light rustle of wind over the bodywork was audible, but tyres were (a little) noisier on country roads. They were still pretty subdued, all the same.

Speaking of country roads, the ride comfort was largely as described by Bruce Newton in his introductory piece for this car. Over lumpy bitumen the C 250 didn't exactly iron out the ride, and the suspension was overdamped for the job, but the C 250 rode easier at lower speeds absorbing the smaller bumps likely to be endured around town.

For a wagon the C 250 felt lively and agile cornering. It turned in promptly – just like the sedan – and provided steady roadholding with handling eerily close to neutral. And it remained close to neutral, even after applying more power. The steering conveyed excellent feedback off-centre, allowing the driver to place the car very precisely in bends.

Heading off for a night away on Good Friday, the C 250 was loaded up with four overnight bags/back packs, a football, a couple of bags of wine and beer, plus sundries. Only half the luggage compartment was occupied, and the cargo blind was left in place. Although it was not called upon, the finger pull levers in the luggage compartment did allow the rear seats to fall flat for more luggage volume.

As with other C-Class models driven in recent times, the C 250 Estate is comfortable, well finished and stylishly presented. Upholstered in a sort of mulberry-coloured leather, the seats were extremely comfortable and readily adjusted for optimal driving control. A tablet-style infotainment display sits proud above the centre fascia, and has not garnered universal praise. But it's easy to read and manages to relay the information required without the driver endlessly twiddling the Comand knob to drill down through a different menu.

If I had one concern – and I acknowledge not everyone will agree with this – I would prefer it to be a touch screen. Yes, the fingerprints in the midday sun can be unsightly, but it would be faster and involve less time distracted from the job at hand – driving – to find the information or setting needed. 

The relocation of the gear lever to the right side of the steering column has certainly liberated a lot of space in the bin where the centre fascia and console meet, plus there's more storage space in a deep bin under the centre armrest. 

However, as an aside I note that switchgear placement and operating method are changing from the traditional practice at Mercedes-Benz. No longer is there a foot-operated parking brake – which is a point scored – and the engine starts with the push of a button, rather than the turn of a key. But the major seat-adjustment controls remain where they've long been, on the door cappings. 

Comfort and convenience features were up to scratch, with Bluetooth quickly connecting to a smartphone on start-up and streaming audio by the time the car was leaving the driveway, and the satellite navigation was capable of accepting input of a new destination while the car was on the move. If you have a front-seat passenger who can punch in the information, it saves time without distracting the driver. 

The young ones were well catered for with their own vents and adult levels of headroom and kneeroom in the rear. 

Primary safety systems worked in accordance with specification, but more importantly, most of the systems kept the driver informed without being an immense distraction. If the Mercedes was too close behind a car in front, a subtle red warning triangle would illuminate in the left gauge of the instrument binnacle. An audible warning from the blind spot information system left me nonplussed on a couple of occasions, possibly with the system fooled by negotiating multi-lane roundabouts. 

The Adaptive Highbeam Assistant ensured that even dark country roads were always properly illuminated, which saved the life of one errant rabbit running across the road less than 40 metres ahead of the Benz, bearing down on said rodent at about 60km/h. Hitting the anchors hard woke up the anti-lock brakes, which sounded a series of thumps that left me uncertain whether Peter was lying on the road behind in an unfit state to deliver chocky eggs.

There was no sign of mangled rabbit meat in the road, so chalk one up to Mercedes-Benz for briefly turning me into a practising Buddhist during a major Christian holiday.

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