‘It’s the perfect family vehicle!”
My almost 60-year-old dad chortles this while standing at the top of his driveway, head cocked, grin smug, arms raised in a “told-you-so” shrug. His eyes sparkle with the clear enjoyment of being right as he waves us off, kids’ arms flapping wildly from the windows, their ears covered with massive headphones, as we slowly back a loaded 2016 Honda Odyssey onto the long road home.
He’s not wrong, although I’d so like for him to be.
Over the years, as my little family grew from two adults and one dog to two adults, two dogs and one child and then morphed again into a two-adults-two-kids-one-dog configuration, dad has watched us treat a slew of vehicles as if it were a ridiculous, real-life game of Jenga.
This is owing partly to the fact our extended family lives three hours north of my Toronto home. Twice a month or so, we make the trip home. It’s work to get there, cramming in duffels, coolers, bikes, snowshoes, golf clubs, the dog, kid snacks, laptops and whatever else can fit. But the spoils – biking, golfing, not hearing the rumble of streetcars from your bedroom, water views, free child care – are worth it if we can get past the domestic dispute packing tends to cause.
No matter the vehicle – BMW X5, Acura MDX, Volkswagen Touareg, Audi Q3, Audi A4, Porsche Macan, Nissan’s Pathfinder and Rogue and the Toyota Highlander have all made the trip – we feel cramped and out of sorts. The front passenger’s legroom is given over to extra bags with snacks, iPads, colouring books, art projects and the inevitable fast food garbage. In the rear, the dog is panting and stressed under the threat of the duffel-bag wall, her instincts rightfully mistrustful of the spider web of bungee cords used to stop them from spilling over onto her bed.
In the Odyssey, there is none of this crazy.
With eight seats, 21 potential cupholders (for real – I counted twice) and more seating configurations than I can do the math on, the Odyssey works hard to make everyone comfortable. Even Ruby the Labrador had so much space in the back that we could have stuffed two full hockey bags beside her and she still wouldn’t have been crowded.
On this trip, we had four duffels, two large canvas grocery bags, two boxes of diapers, a garbage bag of clothes to donate, two scarecrows (don’t ask), three stuffed animals, more Happy Meal boxes than I care to admit publicly. And two small kids, who were beside each other and yet far enough apart that they couldn’t really whack one another when crabbiness set in. It was the closest to bliss I’ve ever been outside a V-8.
Helping stave off the inevitable “are we there yet?” whines was the 16-inch widescreen with on-board DVD player that’s standard in the top-of-the-line Touring trim package we were testing ($48,890 before taxes and fees). Remarkably, it comes with four sets of wireless headphones that store neatly in the back-seat pockets. The vehicle is also littered with USB sockets, meaning there is no end to options for kids to amuse themselves – and quietly.
The devil is in the details, though. The infotainment system, glorious in its technical capacity, wasn’t intuitive enough for my mom-fogged brain. Its touch screens were sluggish and simple tasks such as figuring out how to operate the rear speakers so we could listen to our own music up front (to tune out the kids’ movie) forced us to break out the manual.
If you happen to be at the stage where small, impatient and incessantly hungry people are yelling at you from the back seats to immediately turn on Dora/Thomas/PAW Patrol/The Wiggles, let me tell you … there is no time to flip through the damn manual. By the time you get to the right page – if you can even think straight to navigate there – your kids will be ready to eat you.
So, subtract a few points for showing promise on the infotainment front, but botching hopes of a seamless delivery. We didn’t have to play family Jenga, so we’ll add back some points there.
And there is a huge stack of megapoints for this: the Odyssey has an on-board Shop-Vac. Yes. For real. That means you can vacuum out all the goldfish/Cheerios/errant french fries without having to go to a gas station coin-operated machine or haul your large Shop-Vac out of the garage. Using it is oddly fun.
If reading this is balm to your soul, then maybe a minivan is the perfect vehicle for your family. It is built so you can just let it all hang out inside. I came to think of it as the automotive version of the wide, stretchy pants I keep tucked at the back of my closet for the days when my regular jeans feel too snug. There’s no sleekness or sexiness in them. In fact, I hope no one notices when I have them on. But I’m glad to have them nonetheless.
Did your inner flame go out with that analogy? Then steer clear of the Odyssey. However, if you’re rich in kids and strapped for space, you’ll probably really like it. Instead, go practise your Jenga.