There are no tie-down anchor points fitted and there's no synthetic flooring to cover the expanse of painted steel.
Load area accessibility is limited compared to the Kangoo or the Berlingo: the top-hinge rear door requires greater clearance to open thank its competitors. The rear side doors are conventionally hinged like a passenger car. However, the latter still offer a leading 770mm of aperture width – 150mm more than the Kangoo or the Berlingo.
The APV's 1130mm-wide cargo bay (between the wheel arches) won't accept a standard Australian pallet.
The APV does have the best payload of 785kg, but given it seemed to be the most affected by our 400kg test weight, the claim should be viewed as academic.
The cab is basic in the extreme. The masonite (or similar) door cards means there are no sidepockets and in general there's no storage of any kind bar the compact glovebox.
Because the driver and passenger seats are on top of the engine bay the seats themselves are thin and firm; they offer no support when negotiating corners and their vinyl covering will lead to many a sweaty session in warmer weather.
Seat adjustment is limited to forward/aft rails and there's no adjustment for the steering column.
The APV is the nosiest of the trio by some 7dB, displaying both significant road and engine noise.
On a more positive note, the APV has the shortest turning circle (10.0 metres) and the best visibility, with glass all round. And, of course, it's $10,000 cheaper than the Kangoo and $7000 cheaper than the Berlingo.
The engine is accessed by lifting the front seats, and though most daily inspection items can be found under the traditional front bonnet, you must raise the passenger seat to access the (engine oil) dipstick.
We noticed some wiring loose of the harness and at least one uninsulated end, though, at this price, some short-cuts are bound to be expected.
The panel gaps across the APV's boxy body weren’t as consistent as those found on the Kangoo or the Berlingo, and the paint was heavily applied with 'orange peel' consistent across the Superior White non-metallic finish.
Inside, the APV's finish is of a basic nature with vinyl-wrapped Masonite door cards, low-grade plastic on the dashboard, felt carpet, wire and vinyl hood lining and sun visors, and cheap-looking PVC upholstery. The switchgear, what little of it there is, was of an acceptable quality, however.
Up back, the cargo bay was free of any unfinished areas though the paint-and-sealant floor could do with a rubber liner, or at very least some tie-down points.
The only petrol engine on test, the APV displays a surprising turn of speed from a standing start, where it trumped the Berlingo and was only 0.2sec adrift of the Kangoo from 0-60km/h.
Get involved with the throttle and five-speed gearbox and the APV responds, but its performance tails off after 80km/h, and its naturally aspirated engine feels a payload when tackling climbs. It gets the job done, but the engine is obviously working hard. The Berlingo, and especially the Kangoo, are less affected.
The APV was also the thirstiest of the bunch, slurping down 10.1L/100km on test versus 9.6 for the Kangoo and 9.8 for the Berlingo.
The clutch is extremely light with a short amount of travel and a narrow take-up band, while the shifting action is nice and precise – it's anything but arduous to drive the APV in stop/start traffic although (unlike the Kangoo and the Berlingo) there's no hill-start assist.
Like the Berlingo, the APV's steering is light and on the road it's quite nimble. Its suspension irons out the majority of potholes and bumps in an adequate if unspectacular fashion and, while it displays a bit of roll with a load on board, this aspect is accentuated by its flat, unsupportive seating, which requires the driver to strain against centrifugal force to remain in place.
Despite its comparative lack of refinement, there's little in the way of intrusive vibration and its ride stops short of being harsh. The APV's short snout and wheelbase and tight turning circle make it an easy proposition in tight confines.
It's pricing reflects its no-frills philosophy; for buyers who aren't concerned by its lack of comfort or features, the APV remains a practical tool for shifting payload without incurring major expense.
The petrol engine is thirstier than its turbo-diesel rivals and key safety items such as anti-lock and stability control are unavailable. It does have driver and passenger airbags, however.
On the upside, Suzuki has given APV comprehensive after-sales support with a capped-price servicing plan covering the first 60 months/100,000km (whichever comes first). The cost of a service at the first six-month/10,000km interval is $249.00 and the warranty period is three years/100,000km.
Metallic paint is inexpensive at $475, though is only offered in one colour – Silky Silver.
www.redbook.com.au lists a 2011 Suzuki APV as having a new price of $18,990. The median price for a model today with between 60,000-90,000km on the odometer is $10,350, a retained value of 55 per cent.
This is a no-nonsense light commercial vehicle at its most basic, offering limited technology levels such as air-conditioning, remote central locking and a two-speaker single-CD tuner... and that’s about it.
The APV’s Clarion head-unit appears to be Bluetooth-ready, but that remains an option. Further, there’s no power windows, no dimming rear-view mirror, no cruise control and no trip computer.
It’s a Spartan cab, and the APV’s controls extend to only what you need to get by.
Whether the lack of Bluetooth telephony and powered windows and mirrors will perturb buyers at this end of the market is, however, a question we can only assume to answer.
What we liked: | Not so much: |
>> Accessible pricing | >> No tie-down hooks |
>> Basic yet functional ergonomics | >> No electronic driver aids |
>> Included capped-price servicing | >> Basic fit-out and finish quality |