OF all the consequences emerging from BMW’s short-lived ownership of Britain’s Rover group of car companies, its acquisition – and, more to the point, retention – of the Mini brand will be seen by most as the single highlight of the ill-fated affair. The Bavarians looked at the iconic Mini, which had first appeared in 1959, and recreated it at a time – 2001 – when retro appeared to be the fashionable way forward in car design. That trend was not to be, however, yet the Mini not only survived the fad, but proved to be the exception that proved the rule. New Mini steadily became a cult marque, so much so that when the time came to give it a freshening – 2006 – its looks were merely enhanced rather than altered in any significant way, and, riding on the back of a clearly focused marketing campaign, its status amongst young motoring cognoscenti grew ever stronger. Clearly, then, an opportunity existed to increase the brand’s appeal. Enter the Clubman, a stretched Mini if you will, reviving the name given to a squarenosed version of the original Mini saloon: this, rather than the trademark Traveller/Countryman monikers that denoted a station wagon version body of which this new model represents a variation on the theme. And a striking variation it is, too. Look on the left: a single side door. Look on the right: one-and-ahalf doors. Look at the rear: two doors. So, practically a five-door it is. Conventional it is not… From front bumper to B-pillar, the Clubman is unchanged from the Mini hatch. From the pillar backwards, it is all different. For starters, the wheelbase is stretched by 80 mm, and, in total, the body is 240 mm longer. On the passenger side, behind the single door, the bodyside, including the onepiece window, stretches back uninterrupted save for the fuel filler. And thereby hangs a tale.
In order to develop a station wagon version of the Mini, the engineers were faced with an extensive re-tooling programme to accommodate a re-design and relocation of the fuel tank, the costs of which could not be justified. So, a compromise was reached. Leave the tank and filler as is, and alter the other side to incorporate an extra door. But not just any ordinary door, rather a rear-hinged half-door (dubbed Clubdoor), big enough to aid entry/exit to the rear seat without necessitating making the body any longer than planned. And that was how it was done. There are pros and cons to the layout: it is convenient in most parking situations except when stopped at the side of the road, where entry/exit takes place in the traffic stream. The Traveller/Countryman-style side-hinged rear doors are as practical, in a different way, to a one-piece top- or side-hinged tailgate, and the design suits the Mini Clubman’s character perfectly. The result is a Mini that still cannot be rated as spacious, but at least there is some usable space to exploit, both for passengers and cargo. Depending on the size of those sitting up front, four adults can now be accommodated in reasonable comfort for journeys longer than a trip to the end of the driveway. Overseas, there is a dedicated two-person rear seat, but SA is, apparently, obliged to take the alternative three-place seat, the middle of which, though, is of little use because of it being so narrow and lacking any form of support, as well as straddling the joint in the 50:50 split backrest. Boot/utility space measures 184 to 704 dm3, by comparison with the saloon’s 136-592 dm3, and the loading height is 650 mm. Run-flat tyres preclude the necessity for housing a spare wheel. The multi-position cargo cover is unconvincing in its usefulness.
Commensurate with its bigger size, the Clubman is heavier than the saloon, too, by 68 kg, the equivalent of an average adult. So, performance is a tad down as well. Compared with the Cooper S saloon tested in May 2007, the Clubman S takes 0,36 seconds longer to reach 100 km/h (8,43 vs 8,07 seconds), 0,78 seconds longer to the kilometre marker (29,37 vs 28,59 seconds), and is 4 km/h down on top speed (224 vs 228 km/h). Both vehicles, incidentally, were riding on optional 205/45 17-inch rubber. Fuel economy is slightly worse, too, the Clubman recording a CAR index of 8,7 litres/ 100 km (vs 8,49). In effect then, there is no great sacrifice in performance from the 128 kW/ 240 N.m turbocharged and intercooled motor for the extra practicality that the Clubman body affords.
Better still, there is no loss of driving entertainment, either. We have noted before that the Mini is one of the best-handling super-hatches around, and the Clubman version is none the worse for having been stretched. The increased length has actually improved the front/rear weight bias over the hatch’s, and revised spring rates have fully compensated for the extra mass and overhang. So, we still have harsh low speed ride (thanks to the run-flats) that smoothes out as speed rises, sharp but reasonably communicative electric-assisted steering, easily provoked – but controlled – torque steer (floor the accelerator, and an additional 20 N.m of torque is liberated), and handling that is inherently neutral but which can be toyed with if the mood takes, even with all the stability and traction control electronics active. A deep glasshouse means all-round vision is excellent, but some testers found the centre join of the rear doors an irritating obstruction in the rearview mirror. Oh, and the facia layout is a love or hate affair. For most of the test team, it is the latter, especially of the speedo pointer that runs around the rim of the large centre pod.
Test summary
It could be argued that the Clubman is the best Mini derivative to date because it adds a measure of practicality to the hatch version’s established style and dynamic prowess. It represents a variation on the hatchback/ wagon crossover theme, delivered with considerable panache. Our test unit drew lots of attention, but, then again, with R76 450-worth of options fitted, you would expect it to stand out… Nevertheless, Clubman adds an extra – and pleasing – dimension to the Mini brand, which has developed into a clearly defined (and pricey) motoring status symbol that is a far cry from the classless original.
