Some things mystify me. Such as who puts the ice cubes in the urinals of your more upmarket hostelries? And more importantly why?
How is it that South Africa not only has a communist party, but it’s taken seriously, yet in more grown-up countries communism is a thoroughly discredited, vilified and slightly hilarious ideology?
What does the queen keep in her ever-present handbag?
And why has Nissan gone the V6 turbodiesel route when so many other manufacturers such as VW – and its superlative 2,0-litre Amarok comes to mind – are going the small-capacity, high-output route?
I suppose part of the answer might have to do with the fact that Nissan is the most prolific producer of V6 engines in the world, making more than a million a year. These find their way into the likes of the Murano, the Pathfinder and the 370Z, as well as the GT-R, which has always struck me as bad, bad, bad in the best sense of the word.
But never mind the rationale.. The fact is that that V9X diesel motor is a marvelous slugger, making 170 kW and, much more importantly, 550 N.m at 1 750 r/mIN. So it pulls like a pop star in a VIP bar, yet it is remarkably refined.
I had the Pathfinder and then the Navara 3.0 V6 dCi for a week each recently – “recently” by the way being a word that my first news editor once banned, on account of it being ineffably vague.
And I adored both, giving further credence to the claim that it’s ever more difficult to be a credible, critical motoring journalist in the 21st Century as cars today vary between really good and outstanding, with the exception of some of the Indian and Chinese whipping boys. And even then, they’re not as bad as they used to be.
Adding to that V6’s appeal – aside from the fact that under acceleration it sounds like a WW2 torpedo boat off to intercept a convoy – is the fact it’s made from Compacted Graphite Iron.
In Nissan’s words, “CGI was selected for its ability to deliver all the strengths of cast iron, including high levels of stiffness and excellent noise absorption qualities, without the significant weight penalty of this more traditionally-accepted construction method.”
Things like NVH and friction are also vastly reduced, and the V9X is a reminder of the massive strides made in oil-burning technology in just a few years.
That it runs through a seven-speed auto box in both the Navara and the Pathfinder just enhances the package, as does the presence of optional leather in the former (a bit cheeky, considering the price), the whole alphabet of electronic driver and safety aids, and a level of interior luxury that would make a Pasha smile.
On a weekend trip up to the Berg in the Pathfinder in torrential rain that savaged dirt roads and necessitated using the Intelligent Driving Control 4WD setup to switch from two-wheel to all-wheel drive, but not low-range, I couldn’t think of many vehicles I’d have preferred to be in.
The Pathfinder and the Navara test cars also came with the optional Nissan Premium Connect infotainment system, which just enhanced their appeal.
But – and there’s almost always a “but” isn’t there? – this does all come at a price. As tested, the Pathfinder weighed in at R644 900.
That’s over 20 grand more than a Discovery 4 3.0TD V6 S and while the Nissan is a premium product, I’m not entirely sure that it carries quite the same brand cachet and braai-side bragging rights as the Disco. And as everyone knows, but perhaps doesn’t always admit, once you get past the price level where vehicles are merely interchangeable and anonymous white goods, considerations such as these are as important as dynamic prowess.
The Navara as tested cost R533 400. While the notion that it’s anything less than excellent cannot be debated – nor can the fact that it’s the first one-ton LCV with a seven-speed slushbox – that price tag did cause some interested parties to vociferously enjoin, “How much?!”
And for a double-cab that is quite a lot, especially if you care to glance through the CAR Guide and do a bit of comparative shopping, although it could be argued that nothing quite compares to the Navara.
But on the flipside, if you look at the Navara not as a bakkie but as an extraordinarily powerful, sophisticated SUV with extra load space, practicality and versatility, as well as bicep-bound bad boy appeal, then it suddenly makes some sense…
