The nicest part about our Dodge Journey test car has to be its interior. No, we're not talking about the horrible plastic surfaces and the atrocious build quality, but about the habitability and overall ergonomics. You have enough storage spaces to hide almost anything that fits into a car. The rear seats move and adjust in almost endless configurations, making the whole interior of the car feel like a toy in itself.
We couldn't agree on the worst stuff about the Journey. Could it be its horrifying build quality, the hard surfaces of the dashboard, the whole cheap look of the cockpit? Or could it be the snail-like acceleration induced by the tiny diesel engine? Honestly, in a few at-the-limit overtakes we almost felt like instead of a diesel turbocharged four-banger under the hood we had the little engine that could. "I think I can pass this truck! I-think-I-can, I-think-I-can!" And it finally did, but at the cost of precious seconds.
The ugly part about the Journey is definitely the way it manages to enchant you on one side and totally disgust you on the other. You can turn the interior into a hide-and-seek playground (especially if you're the size of a chipmunk) but if you have any sense of beautiful you will absolutely detest it. It's full of rugged edges, ruff materials and everything moves and jiggles when it's not supposed to. The engine can keep you going for hundred of miles without refueling but with no power reserves and with a horrible soundtrack. In other words, the way this car wins points on something and then loses them on another is mind-boggling. Continue reading