What is a daily driver? A daily driver is four-wheel mobility refined to its purest essence: to get you from point A to point B comfortably and safely. It is a basic automobile that can do most everyday things: office commute, road trip, grocery run, people transport, and so on. Its form and purpose is not specialized in any way, shape, or form.
Almost any vehicle can be a daily driver. But the moment a vehicle acquires a specific functionality, like a pickup bed or a third row, that vehicle becomes designed mainly for a particular purpose, and that compromises its daily driveability. A pickup gains size and loses maneuverability, and an MPV sacrifices driving dynamics. You get the idea.
In my year spent with the Mazda CX-30, I’ve concluded that this compact crossover is the best daily driver in the market. That decision was made based on extensive seat time, a comparison of many other vehicles above and below its segment, and a deep appreciation of what this car can do.
From a basic operational standpoint, it ticks my “hands-free” requirement that elevates an automobile’s functional experience above mass-market offerings. Every day I approach the CX-30 with the key fob in my pocket, and it unlocks when I touch the door handle. The doors lock once I reach 20kph. When it gets dark the headlights automatically come on, and when it rains the windshield wipers automatically activate.
There’s something liberating about not having to press any button or flick any switch to operate a car. All I have to do is point the steering wheel and step on the gas.
When I park the CX-30 at the end of my drive, turning the engine off will unlock the doors. And when I move away from the Mazda, the doors automatically lock and the side mirrors fold politely. The folded side mirrors are also a confirmation that the car is locked, for added peace of mind.
This automatic door-lock feature is a very rare feature in cars, even in much more expensive automobiles. But once you get used to it, you will look for it in other cars. Associate editor Sharleen Banzon even forgot to lock her Honda after driving another CX-30 for a week, because she expected the doors to lock themselves.
The red leather driver’s seat even has memory functions. After someone else drives, I just push button 2, and the power seat moves back to my saved preference. I’m not sure why I chose button 2 versus button 1; I always felt if someone were to try and save a seat memory, button 1 would be the default choice, so I save button 2 for me. Any owners with memory seats out there who can relate?
It wasn’t love at first sight when I met the CX-30 model about six years ago. I felt the CX-3 was more visually balanced. I loved the sleek design of the Mazda 3 more (I still do). And I admired the confident stance of the CX-5. On my first drives with the CX-30, I felt a bit underwhelmed. Its first powertrain, a naturally aspirated 2.0-liter four cylinder didn’t do much for me.
Last year, I had the pleasure of beginning a long-term review with the CX-30 you see in these photos. By this time, the CX-30 already came with a mild hybrid powerplant that generates 162hp and 213Nm. It also sports this lovely platinum quartz color that shimmers in good sunlight, and exudes a soft classy glow under street lights.
For months the CX-30 acted the way I expected it to. It was reliable, dependable, comfortable, and classy. The Bose audio system excelled when it played tunes from a good source like Apple Music. It was so good that it revealed the flaws in a lower bitrate streaming service like Spotify. Play a well-mixed Taylor Swift album and she’s singing in the car with you, getting lost upstate, autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place. Cue up some classical music from Bach or Debussy, and the serene comfort from the seat will make the drive relaxing.
Actually, driving the CX-30 can be a little too relaxing. If I’m sleep-deprived I find it a challenge to stay awake sometimes, with the cabin being so quiet and insulated. This is where I’m grateful for the CX-30’s i-Activsense driver assist technology, Mazda’s term for advanced driver assistance systems, or ADAS.
The CX-30 has radar-guided cruise control, lane departure warning with lane keep assist, blind spot monitoring, and several more ADAS features. If you try to turn into a lane and there’s another car or a motorcycle just beyond your vision, the system will gently warn you. It has actually spoiled me to the point that I feel more aware in cars not equipped with ADAS. In other cars, I have to remind myself that I can’t be as complacent because there’s nothing to remind me about something in my blind spot, or that the car won’t stop automatically if an obstacle suddenly appeared.
Even the front camera is a big help, because I can see if the curb is too close or if I still have room to move forward in tight parking spots.
This technology can be either helpful or irritating, depending on the carmaker’s software. In Mazda’s case, I find it just dialed in just right—helpful without being intrusive. In the beginning, I didn’t like being nudged back into a lane by the steering wheel if I wandered over road markings. But I got used to it over time.
The i-Activsense here is not advanced enough to slow down to 0kph like they do in newer ADAS systems. Instead, the system will let go at 30kph, and you have to manually take control of the CX-30. Once you’re above 30kph again, press the ‘Resume’ button on the steering wheel and the car will revert to the last speed you programmed.
On expressway drives, I’ve learned to trust the i-Activsense system implicitly. I just program the speed I want, keep my hand on the steering wheel, and listen to my favorite podcasts or music. By letting the CX-30 drive itself, I get 12-13km/L easily.
When I actively take the wheel driving in the city, fuel economy is about 8-9km/L. Even if it’s a mild hybrid, I wouldn’t say this Mazda is the most fuel-efficient. But it does have smooth power delivery.
Push it a bit and the 2.0-liter four cylinder engine strains a little. But you do get most of the acceleration you need—enough for overtaking and for cruising at speeds above 140kph (um, allegedly).
In everyday driving, the CX-30 is a joy to drive. Steering is telepathic and responsive. Once you get the hang of the throttle and steering response, you can push this compact crossover to cornering speeds that would make other cars in its class wobble. Flick the Sport button beside the shifter and the CX-30, like most Mazdas, eagerly follows your right foot and hands. Pardon the cliche used in Mazda reviews, but over time you become more one with the car.
Of course the CX-30 isn’t perfect. After months of use there are some things I don’t like—still don’t actually. For one, it would be nice to have more storage spaces in the center console. There’s no convenient place to put my smartphone if someone is sitting in the passenger seat. It ends up in one of the empty cupholders, or an awkward cubbyhole behind them if both cupholders are being used.
The automatic climate control also never worked the way I expected it to. Program a temperature of 23 degrees and the blower will keep blasting cold air inside, seemingly far beyond when the cabin has already cooled. My solution is to manually control the fan speed. This goes against my “hands-free” philosophy, as I have to press a button or two when the A/C should regulate the cabin temperature automatically. And the passenger A/C vents look a bit oddly placed.
The sleek body and decent ground clearance also doesn’t result in a lot of room—both for rear passengers and cargo. Sometimes I envy my girlfriend’s Subaru XV, as it can swallow so many coolers and construction materials. The CX-30 power tailgate has a decently wide opening, but after putting in a foldable camping chair, an overnight bag, a box of odds and ends, and a laptop bag, there’s not much room left. The rear seats do fold down for more capacity, but I’m afraid of scuffing the nice red leather.
I confess that after about six months, I wondered if another vehicle is more suited for me. When this CX-30 was brought in for servicing, I was offered a CX-5 2.5 Turbo as a temporary vehicle for a week. I immediately agreed, drawn to the lovely Zircon Sand color and excited about the 250hp from the turbocharged engine.
For the first few days, I relished having the CX-5 Turbo. The 434Nm of torque lurking under the hood was almost intoxicating. And the way it delivered all that power and grunt was smooth and fun. But what I liked best was the spacious cargo area. Loading groceries and large bags was a breeze.
However, the CX-5 Turbo proved to be a thirsty compact SUV. And being taller than the CX-30, it didn’t handle as intimately. For my lifestyle and needs, it just felt a little too big.
My CX-30 was done being serviced, and after 30 seconds behind its steering wheel I knew it was still the right one for me. The familiar red leather seats held my back, the lower center of gravity, the linear power delivery, the wide infotainment screen displaying my maps at just the right angle—I was home.
The looks grew on me over time as well. There were times when I would see a nice Mazda on the road, and I’d think that’s a really nice taillight cluster, and then become aware that I was looking at another CX-30. More than when I first took delivery, I look at the confident stance and powerful lines of the CX-30 and like what my eyes see. It’s a harmonious blend of elegance and sportiness.
I actually feel a kinship with other CX-30 drivers. This car is not something you choose blindly, like how you would pick the latest iPhone or Samsung Galaxy device because you simply need a tool. If your thought process was like the latter, you’d be driving a Toyota, Mitsubishi, or Nissan (and nothing wrong with that)—any of the top three car brands in the market.
People who chose the CX-30 were drawn to it, especially given that several Mazdas are just above and below it, separated by amounts that would be irrelevant under vehicle financing. Did their journey to CX-30 ownership mirror mine? Are we connected by the same needs and choices?
After more than a year in my garage, I realize what I respect and admire the most about the CX-30 is literally in its DNA—this is a very Japanese car. This model, and most Mazdas on sale here, are made in Japan, in case you didn’t know.
The Japanese people are known for their focus and drive, and many times it manifests in them doing one thing to perfection. Like sushi chef Jiro Ono, who obsessed about his food so much he continued to kaizen even in his dreams. Or blacksmith Yasuhiro Hirakawa, who makes thousand-dollar pruning scissors and only felt like he was reaching his peak after 50 years in the business.
I do not know if Mazda had these levels of obsession when they designed the CX-30, or if they simply felt the existing Mazda 3 chassis was a waste not to build a crossover from. I suspect it’s the latter, but from my perspective, it sure feels like the former. The design, size, power, technology, and comfort have come together to make the CX-30 the best daily driver in the market, at almost any price segment, right now.
The CX-30 is something that makes the daily commute not just bearable, but actually convenient (well, as convenient as Metro Manila gridlock can be). I can easily find my perfect posture for driving, thanks to the power memory seats. I rest my right elbow on the padded center glove box, and my hand falls naturally on the leather shifter. Even reaching for the seatbelt feels ergonomic; I feel no strain as I reach just above my left shoulder for the belt, and in one smooth motion I draw my arm down and click the seatbelt latch into place. It really is the little things.
For what it is, for who I am and what I need, I can think of no better companion to be with me in the chaos we pass off as our road network, and the kind of drivers that populate it. Over time we see cars as either something we need or something we deserve. By being so good at what it does, the CX-30 manages to be both.
