On this page you can read Parkers long-term test of the Mazda CX-80. We’re testing the plug-in hybrid electric vehicle (PHEV) version of this large seven-seater SUV to see how it copes with four generation of family life and what it’s like to live with every day.

Tested by cj hubbard

Report 1: An eventful start to life with a Mazda CX-80 seven-seater PHEV

Crash-bang-wallop, and we’re off…

The opening report on a long-term test car isn’t usually packed with excitement. It’s important, sure, as we need to lay out exactly what we’re testing and why, the key spec details and those vital first impressions. But suffice to say, things didn’t entirely go as planned with our proposed Mazda CX-80.

Having been setup for quite some time, I’d been able to choose from a list of potential long-term partners here. All were powered by the 327hp plug-in hybrid drivetrain, which ought to suit my usage – which combines ultra-short hops ferrying the kids around town, a weekly long-distance commute of over 160 miles each way and travelling to various airports – but beyond that it was like being in a sweet shop in terms of trims and colours.

Being quite near the head of the queue, I selflessly went for the fanciest model I could get: Takumi Plus specification in Melting Copper paint with a white leather interior. Not for me, you understand, but for the way it would look in the pictures.

Decision made, I just had to run around in the outgoing Mazda3 long-termer for a couple of weeks and wait for the CX-80 to arrive. Since I’d previously been driving a seven-seater Skoda Kodiaq, the 3 was a bit of a squeeze and I couldn’t wait for my new seven-seater to arrive.

And arrive it did, one fine and sunny Thursday morning. Resplendent in its glinting browny-orange and with a cabin made spectacularly premium by the light upholstery and associated trimmings. The delivery driver parked it up outside my house, transferred himself to the Mazda3 and I went back to work.

Less than two hours later, a van hit the CX-80. Before I’d even sat behind the steering wheel.

WHAT?!

The only reason I know it was a van is because a passer-by witnessed the whole incident and kindly took the time to leave a note on the windscreen. Which was of course the last thing I expected to come out to at lunchtime. Sadly they didn’t get the numberplate, but if you run the fleet of a nationwide medical supplies firm and recently had a driver report mysterious damage to their vehicle in Darlington, well, let’s just say the Mazda press office would like a word.

The damage to the CX-80 was, as you can see, a nasty set of scrapes – including one from the offending vehicle’s door mirror on the pillars, for goodness sake – but no underlying engineering issues as far as I could tell after driving it about a bit to check. But with time pressing, Mazda elected to replace the CX-80 rather than ask me to wait for it to be repaired. Which meant choosing another from the list, an incredibly privileged position to be in.

By this point, however, all the really tasty-sounding examples had been snaffled by other outlets. So I elected to go in completely the opposite direction and opted for an entry-level CX-80 Exclusive-Line. In Machine Grey. I think mentally I was imagining battleships, and hoping this significantly less eye-popping paint would be less attractive to idiots. But my word, I was worried the plain black interior would be a come-down.

Entry-level doesn’t mean bad – and this car is the proof

I needn’t have been concerned, and in the brilliant way that fate or karma works, the CX-80 I’ve ended up with is actually a much better car than the Battered Copper example.

For starters, the interior still looks great in black – which is testament to a fundamentally excellent design. Being absolutely basic, with not even any of the available upgrade packs, it does miss out on a wireless phone charging pad, and there’s no 360-degree parking camera system (just the single reversing camera instead) nor a panoromic roof (which did disappoint the kids a little). But this aside there’s plenty of kit and the build quality is superb. And I’m not at all concerned about no longer having adaptive cruise control as the standard system works just fine for my purposes.

Besides, let’s face it: a light-coloured interior and two young children was always going to be a disaster that this unexpected change to dark upholstery has seen off before it happened.

I also personally really like the grey. Some of my colleagues (Ted) have accused it of making the car look like a hearse, but to hell with them. This more sombre hue helps disguise the CX-80’s sheer size somewhat – there’s a red one round the corner here that looks positively obese – and lends an air of subtle menace that’s helpful in multiple ways when I’m, shall we say, pressing on during longer journeys.

My absolute favourite part of this transition, however, is the alloy wheels. Not only do these appear to be colour-matched to the bodywork – generously, this gives me Porsche paint-to-sample vibes, on a socking great Mazda SUV – they’re also only 18 inches in diameter.

On every other CX-80 except the entry-level Exclusive-Line, you’re forced to have 20-inch alloys. Which might be more visually pleasing to some (given the proportions, even on 20s this Mazda seems under-wheeled; I’m not bothered) but most definitely contributes to the CX-80’s brittle, uncomfortable ride quality. Compared with the Takumi Plus, the Exclusive-Line feels like a limo over broken surfaces.

Result?

So, the accident-al incident is going to make life with the CX-80 massively more pleasant. The small amount of post-crash driving I’d done in the Takumi Plus variant had me genuinely worried the vehicle would be unbearable. The Exclusive-Line is much more family friendly.

Sometimes, going straight to the top isn’t the answer. After all, there’s a reason carmakers offer variety across a model range, and it isn’t just to make bigger margins. More on life with my comfort-enhanced CX-80 coffin-wagon soon.