Land Rover Defender 130 - long-term review

My Dad always carries a tiny Swiss Army knife in his pocket, not for self-protection, but for those just-in-case moments when he produces it proudly like Excalibur… and cuts a loose thread off my mum’s sock. Point is, he never knows when he’ll need it, so he makes sure he’s never without it. The Defender 130 has become my Swiss army knife. I never want to be separated, to be caught short without several thousand litres of boot space, space for eight or the ability to ride wherever the road doesn’t take us.

Take our recent hot-hatch uber-test on the Anglesey track in Wales. I cruised up from Sussex, pulling a very smug face as the average consumption tickled over 20mpg, and arrived at the track, prepared for the Defender to be totally ignored while I swapped tank-handling for a day of hot-hatch agility. Wasn’t long before it was called into action.

Andy Franklin, creative director and prize turnip, had inched his BMW i5 Touring onto the sodden grass barely metres from the tarmac… and promptly got buried in the mud. A hastily procured trailer strap, one wildly over-engined Defender and the BMW was back on solid ground. No dramas when you’ve got a Defender.

Cut to a few hours later and Mark Fagelson is getting ready to shoot the cover image. Thing is to get 10 hot-hatches all visible in frame, you need elevation. Nowhere higher than the Defender’s roof, so up he goes with his tripod looking like Hilary on the summit. At this point I’m practically bursting with pride.

You see, I’m a bit worried this Defender has spoiled me forever because how could whatever comes next possibly measure up? Yes, its extra length looks ungainly, and the chassis can only fight the fact that it’s a massively heavy, high-riding box up to a point, but I’m yet to find a situation where it’s not impressed.

Friends coo over the interior, my five-year old son who equates size with quality has branded it the world’s best car, it’s as brilliant on the tip run as it is a five-hour motorway slog, there’s always boot space and seats to spare, and firing the V8 down slip roads makes up for the lumpiness in the corners.

Apparently the 130 only makes up around 10 per cent of UK Defender sales (90s are also 10 per cent, the rest and overwhelming majority are 110s, hence the decision to make the full-fat OCTA 110 only) but I’m baffled by why that’s not higher. Come to terms with the odd proportions and you’ll find big is beautiful.