Truckin’ About

A few years ago a good many of Europe’s automotive hacks were invited to Turkey to drive the second generation range of Mitsubishi L200 2.5 litre diesel pick-up trucks. A number of us were a little surprised to have been included , as we didn’t represent publications that specifically dealt with commercial vehicles such as, um, Loads ’n’ Lorries, Vantastic or any other indubitably dull magazines of that particular genre. Yet this was, essentially, to miss the point; Mitsubishi had been truckin’ clever, because back then four door pick-ups (crew cabs) with four-wheel-drive were rapidly becoming a lifestyle accessory that could, especially for non urbanites, double up as utility vehicles. From memory, one or two so-called lifestyle scribblers had joined us in the Torros Daglari mountains for what was to become, rather unexpectedly, about the most memorable and exciting vehicle launch that I have ever attended.

The heavens opened to greet the UK flight. Way up in the mountains rivers washed bridges away, rocks the size of chesterfield sofas crashed about us as we nursed our L200s along precipices and forded bonnet-washing torrents. What was a potential public relations nightmare morphed into a triumph as all journalists and most of the trucks finally made it back for a very, very late dinner in Antalya. I have never before or since put any vehicle through such torture. My respect and admiration for the L200, especially in luxury Barbarian specification, remains forever undiminished. |n fact, the halo effect shines positively over the entire Mitsubishi range. It’s why I drive ’em.

Australians know the as utes, in South Effrikka they answer to bakkie; in other parts of the World half truck or even tender. Ford invented them back in 1925 with a version of the Model T. In God’s own Country the pick-up has stuck for good ol’ boys, moonshiners and ranchers.

Back in Blighty, where VAT registered owners can make a twenty per cent saving, they’ve become a viable alternative to the Range Rover and its ilk. For the horse-box and gymkhana slaves, not to mention - at the other end of the social spectrum - those involved in the nebulous world of fanfares and the like.

Ford, Isuzu, Nissan and Toyota all build their own versions of these ruffty-tuffty work horses, but none can match the L200 for sales, reliability or even, dare I say, credibility.

...until now? Already shifting plenty of commercials, Volkswagen, with its elevated brand image, has picked up the cudgels to join the skirmish with its interestingly named Amarok 2.0 lire diesel. It’s a big mutha and a handsome one, boasting ingenious fly by wire trickery to haul it in and out of very big holes. Taller, longer, wider and arguably as capable and slightly more luxurious than the L200 Barbarian the Amorak will - I think - win the hearts and wallets of those, and there won’t be that many, who put style over substance. Spec for spec the Volkswagen will cost you a grand more than the Mitsubishi. Yet it feels a teeny bit too precious to be hurled off a Turkish mountain. More at home in the centre of Bath, if only it wasn’t quite so broad in the beam.

Volkswagen Amorak Highline Bi TDI 2.0 litre diesel - £26,839
Mitsubishi Barbarian L200 Di-D 2.5 litre diesel - £25,979