Every once in a while you get to test a car that really piques your interest. Like the latest V10 supercar or an indecently quick family hatch. However, testing an all-new version of a car you actually own can be just as intriguing. Take for instance the Renault Scenic we bought in 2005, back when MPVs were hot family property. Despite not being much fun to drive, it’s still the number one weekday Batty-people mover and a favourite of the ladies in the house. Does the new one build on the old version’s strengths, while simultaneously ironing out some of the wrinkles? Only one way to find out. ‘Ladies...’

‘Jeepers, how big are those headlights,’ followed by ‘it seems much longer,’ says my observant wife as she climbs aboard. Yes dear, that’s because it’s the seven-seat Grand Scenic model. ‘Yay, two more seats in the boot,’ whoops my seven year old, racing around to the rear. The extra seats sprout from the boot floor with an easy spring-loaded pull of the straps as she enthusiastically scales them from what remains of the luggage area. I move around to slide the middle row of seats forward, finding familiar levers and a simplified tilting mechanism. In any of the arrangements, the floor is never flat, so it’s still not as convenient as the Verso’s disappear-into-the-flat-floor seating arrangement, but Renault probably figures that having three ‘proper’ seats is preferable. To be honest, in five years we’ve only ever had to remove our Scenic’s seats once, so it’s never been a problem. Other owners might have had a very different experience.

‘Oh I do like the darker interior. That’s much more practical than our hospital beige trim.’ Mom sounds impressed, for now. ‘Is this where you put the keycard?’ she asks, pointing to the slot just below the gear lever. ‘Well, that’s no good. It’ll fill up with yoghurt in no time.’ Maybe not yoghurt, but she has a point. Renault’s very convenient hands-free keycard never has to leave your pocket, exposing the cavity all the more. The previous position was a vertical slot higher up the dash – much less prone to dust, crumbs and coffee spills. I take a moment to study the dashboard architecture. It’s a real surfer’s paradise of soft-touch plastic waves and a big step up in sophistication from the old car’s once avant-garde design. Two colour TFT displays take centre stage atop the dash, one for the fully integrated TomTom navigation system, the other replacing traditional instrument dials. The graphics are sharp and easily readable but could’ve used punchier colours. I did notice that the ledge of soft dash which shades the screens wobbles on the go. Park it in the hot African sun for a while and it can be quite a distraction. Probably useful in an accident though.