There are so many storage spots inside Renault’s Master that you’ll never be short of somewhere to put pens, sunglasses, anoraks and even laptops, writes Steve Banner
In previous reports we have referred to the presence of a large void beneath the Master’s twin passenger seat, which can be accessed by folding back the cushions. Thinking about it, perhaps we shouldn’t have.
After all, that space is somewhere where you can stash power tools, laptops and other items you would be wise
to keep safe from prying eyes, and if thieves know it is there then that’s the first place they’re going to look.
Having reflected on it, however, we’ve decided that the majority of villains are probably too stupid to read What Van? and so wouldn’t be aware of what we’ve written anyway, and the minority are so van-savvy that they are well acquainted with all the hiding places in each and every LCV on the market without turning to us for help.
Not that the space beneath our Master’s passenger seat contains anything of great value. Instead, it has become a useful receptacle for a selection of mud-spattered wet-weather gear (boots, anoraks, high-visibility jackets and so on) that you don’t want to have slithering around your cab.
One of the Master’s big plus-points is in fact the amount of in-cab storage space it offers. There are pockets, shelves, bins and other nooks and crannies of all shapes and sizes just about everywhere you look, so you will never be short of somewhere to put your pens, a clipboard with a sheaf of delivery notes attached or your sunglasses.
Complaining as we have done in the past that there are so many places to put things that you end up not being able to find them seems in retrospect a little churlish.
We make no apologies for praising the Master’s comfortable driving position once again. The seat provides support in all the right places and whoever is at the controls enjoys clear lines of vision ahead and to either side. That’s a definite plus-point given the number of pedestrians and cyclists who seem hell-bent on committing suicide beneath our wheels every time we venture anywhere near a city centre.