DAF XG+ review and how it compares to a DAF 2800

A lot of you have a soft spot for old DAFs, as I discovered a few years ago when I created a tongue-in-cheek video while driving a 3300 in Scotland. In my misguided attempt to point out that you probably wouldn’t want to drive a classic truck every day of the week, I humorously struggled with the manual gearbox, sweated from a lack of air-conditioning, and pretended to get lost due to the omission of a sat-nav.

However, some viewers took the film very seriously, bombarding me with negative comments. Some speculated about my parents’ marital status at the time of my birth, others questioned my sexuality, and several helpfully suggested I could stand to lose a few pounds.

So, when DAF offered me the chance to drive a 1979 2800 as part of its Eindhoven factory’s 75th anniversary celebrations, I was somewhat hesitant. However, after some deliberation, I decided to give it a go, only this time I would be taking a very different approach!

It’s not just me that’s piled on the weight over the years; this becomes blatantly obvious when we park the 2800 face-to-face with a new XG+. Both trucks were designed for the same long-haul work, yet the older truck is closer in size to an XD distribution truck. Curiously, when we position the two vehicles side by side, the 2800 appears considerably wider, but that’s just an optical illusion. The DAF F241 cab, as the name implies, is 241cm wide, making it 9cm narrower than the XG+. But who wants a big, spacious cab? The twin-sleeper 2800 feels much cosier inside, and there’s nothing wrong with stooping when you move around a cab.

Seatbelts are hugely overrated, right? Yes, they’ve saved close to half a million lives worldwide, but I don’t feel worried about driving this truck without one. In fact, it doesn’t bother me that the most significant safety devices in this vehicle are headlights, a horn and three windscreen wipers. By comparison, the XG+ has more three-letter safety acronyms than we have space to mention here— some mandated, others optional extras. But that’s just more stuff to go wrong. Drivers have become too reliant on safety equipment and expect modern vehicles to get them out of all sorts of scrapes. It’s far better just to concentrate, especially with thousands of kamikaze Dutch cyclists around. The demise of manual gearboxes has upset many people, especially on social media. According to Facebook, real men drive manuals, and the more complicated the gearbox, the more macho the driver. The 2800 boasts a 12-speed splitter, although regrettably it does have synchromesh.

With only 410,000km on the odometer, the gearbox feels as good as it did the day it rolled off the line. Having something to do with my right hand is great (though judging by your comments on my last video, you seem to think my right hand is always busy anyway), and manually changing gears quickly becomes second nature. We’re running unladen, so there’s no need to use the splitter, but I do anyway simply because I can. I can feel my libido improving each time I dip the clutch pedal. I’m so relieved I’m not in the XG+, with the latest ZF TraXon, and its flawless gear change.

The phrase “everything falls easily to hand” is overused in vehicle road tests. Fortunately, it doesn’t apply to the 2800, as few of its controls and switches are where you’d expect them. We’ve become accustomed to self-cancelling indicators on steering column-mounted stalks, but they’re not all they’re cracked up to be. It makes far more sense to place the stick on the dashboard, allowing the driver to have a good stretch every time they need to be turned on or off. Without a seatbelt holding me back, it’s a breeze to operate.

This truck eschews touchscreens in favour of good old-fashioned buttons and dials, which is great news for me and everyone else who finds these modern devices distracting. No DAF 2800 driver ever rear-ended a car because they were busy with Apple CarPlay. It also lacks Bluetooth and a fancy audio system. At some point, an aftermarket radio/cassette player was installed in this example, but why bother with that when you have a deafening 11.6-litre engine to listen to instead?

When I was in the Scouts, I was very proud of my Orienteering badge, and I’ve always enjoyed map-reading since then. However, it’s becoming a dying art, as more drivers rely on satellite navigation to find their way. Thankfully, the 2800 doesn’t have one of these awful devices, and on all four occasions that I get lost, I am able to put my map-reading skills to good use.

Europe has had a disappointing summer so far, with unseasonably cold and wet weather. So, I’m delighted to have chosen the hottest day of the year for my drive. I’m even happier when I discover that the old DAF doesn’t have air-conditioning, effectively turning the cab into a Dutch oven. It does, however, have a perfectly functional driver’s window to roll down, even if the handle is broken. The sweat is pouring off me in bucketfuls, which is great—it might help me lose some weight. That should please the haters too. Win-win!

DAF has invested millions in developing its Direct Vision System, which replaces external mirrors with cameras and screens. This includes Corner View, which substitutes the Class V and Class VI front view and kerb view mirrors. What a waste of money! Don’t they realise that real truck drivers prefer glass? The 2800 has two perfectly good mirrors that cost a fraction of the price to replace. They work well, even if they are a bit small and tend to vibrate violently.

DAF squeezes 530hp out of its MX-13 engine, which strikes me as a bit excessive. The 2800 has less than half that, which is more than adequate. What’s more, because it doesn’t have a speed limiter, we overtake the newer XG+ on the motorway.

Another thing I find massively overrated is power steering. I believe it’s far better to have an unassisted bus-style steering wheel that demands a significant amount of effort to turn. At the end of the day, you feel like you’ve actually put in a proper day’s work.

I do wish I had the chance to sleep in this truck too, as the sagging twin bunks look incredibly comfortable. Although, to be honest, I’d probably discard the mattress and sleep on the bare board beneath it, just to emphasise my masculinity

Overall, I hope I’ve conveyed how much I appreciate this truck, and perhaps I’ve even started to redeem myself for daring to criticise the 3300. However, I do have one small criticism—the lack of storage. I just can’t find anywhere to store my rose-tinted spectacles.

-This article was previoulsy published in Commercial Motor, to subscribe see the latest Commercial Motor subscription offer