A mere decade ago no one would’ve dared to even think the words. However, these days I suspect it’s finally safe to hold one’s head up high and — without irrecoverable loss of face — say, “Nissans are cool!” I have surprised even myself by developing a growing affinity for this hitherto bland brand of motor cars.
As crucial and long-lasting as any formative years are, my automotive ones unfortunately coincided with the Nissan Exa, the Sentra, the Sabre, and the Almera. All perfectly decent, honest and reliable cars — and all as about as exciting as Riaan Cruywagen reading the news.
In fact, one of the seminal cars in my four-wheeled education was a Nissan. Actually, a Datsun to be factually correct. It was a Datsun Pulsar owned by Grandpa Trev. It was an exec model with velour seats that were still covered in the factory plastic because Grandpa Trev wanted to make sure they never got dirty. Which was kinda weird considering Grandpa Trev sometimes used the car’s hatchback to transport pig shit. He owned a smallholding in Benoni and did a bit of farming. Interesting car, the Datsun Pulsar Executive. Metallic gold paint, mags, big bulbous front headlamps, a pristine, plastic covered interior — and the unmistakable odour of pig poop.
Right, so my formative years coincided with some fairly crappy Nissans. And that stuck with me. Not even the occasional gem like the Skyline GT-X and its signature “hot stove plate” rear lights could shift an ingrained perception of uncoolness. (At this point I should mention that, being the city boy I am, bakkies and 4x4s never really made it on to my radar and Nissan’s rep in these areas was right up there. Naturally, harping on about that would just let facts get in the way of a good story, so I won’t.)
I guess it changed about five or six years ago when South Africans first began to see the effects of Nissan chief Carlos Ghosn’s miracle turnaround of the ailing Japanese giant. The Micra, the X-Trail, and the Murano began to transform Nissan into a brand that approached desirable. A status finally cemented by the brilliant 350Z.
So it’s all peachy over at Nissan then, is it? Yes and no. Which finally brings me to the two models I’d like to talk about — the Livina X-Gear and the Qashqai 2.0 n-tec 4×2 Limited Edition. It’s not a comparative test — these cars may both have 1.6 engines but they’re clearly in different segments. Rather, it’s more an examination of how accessorising a car does — and does not — work.
Being the Cup Half Full bunch we are here at the M&G, let’s start with the “does work” bit.
The Nissan Livina X-Gear. Yes.
It’s not entirely accurate to call the X-Gear package an accessory — it’s listed as a separate model to the standard Livina — but the reality is that they’re the same car except the X-Gear has some plastic bits bunged on the sides, butch alloy side-sills, and a roof rack.
And what a difference it makes.
Not to the performance of course. With the same 1.6-litre engine and five-speed manual box, both the standard Livina and its X-Gear sibling have the same surprisingly zesty approach to life. The Livinas are a lot nippier than I expected, and together with the interior space and their competitive pricing (R147 000 to R177 0), they would be at the top of any family’s shopping list should they be looking for a comfortable budget-priced little MPV.
What’s way more interesting for our purposes is what a difference a few bits of plastic can make to a car. The normal Livina is, well, pretty boring. Not dull in a Nissan circa-1995 way, but it’s still a bit of a wallflower isn’t it? The X-Gear, on the other hand, looks pretty good — a little sporty, ballsy even — an upstart ready to punch above its weight. To be honest, the X-Gear looks like what the designers originally had in mind — whereas the standard Livina appears a tad naked, stripped of its original clothes. So, yup, Livina X-Gear, thumbs-up.
(Still not convinced by the name, though. “Livina”. Sounds like some batty old spinster who scares the hell out of small kids)
The Nissan Livina X-Gear
The Nissan Qashqai 2.0 n-tec 4×2 Limited Edition. No.
The Qashqai. Great car. Sitting somewhere between a mini-SUV (if you choose the 4×4) and a beefed-up hatchback (if you go for the 4×2), it’s been a huge success. Pity they cocked it up with this limited edition.
Again, outside of a little more grip thanks to those 18-inch wheels, there’s no real performance difference between it and the standard 2.0-litre 4×2. And again, we’re talking strictly aesthetic cock-up here. Nevertheless, aesthetic appeal is a major motivator when choosing a car, which makes it as a major a cock-up as any other kind of cock-up. Just ask SsangYong.
Unfortunately, this Qashqai has sadly gone from understated urban plaything to mouthy ‘hood blingster. Subtle five-spoked brushed alloys have given way to multi-spoke, scalloped and shaded new mags sporting low-profile tyres. A classy matt-black grill has gotten a silvery coat of paint. The leather seats now have colour inserts — red and black in the case of my test car. And worst of all, they’ve gone and put in a truly awful aftermarket nav/entertainment system. Including what I suspect was an interior antennae stuck on to the windscreen with double-sided tape (fell off three minutes after I climbed into the car. Dead honest), and a mic plakked on with velcro. It didn’t help that the system displayed only Japanese script —
The Nissan Qashqai 2.0 n-tec 4×2 Limited Edition
To sum up then —
Nissan Qashqai 2.0 n-tec 4X2 (Limited Edition)
Looks like its been hanging with Paris Hilton. Should soon be appearing in a grainy YouTube clip.
Price: R289 500
Engine: 1 598cc, 4 cylinder petrol
Power: 102kW at 5200
Torque: 198Nm @ 4400
Transmission: 6-speed manual
Nissan Livina X-Gear 1.6 Acenta
Looks like it’s been to the gym and butched up nicely
Price: R177 000
Engine: 1 598cc, 4 cylinder petrol
Power: 80kW
Torque: 153Nm
Transmission: 5-speed manual