Few cars surprised the judges at COTY (“Car
Of The Year” test) last year like Renault’s Clio IV. This sparkling French
light hatch won fans with its ebullient styling, and retained them with a
driving experience that delivered on that visual promise. It’s enthusiastic,
practical, economical, affordable and seemingly free of the issues that have
hindered French hatchbacks in recent decades. The Renault Clio is a stunning
little tyke from a company and a country once renowned for the breed, yet with
few pedigreed examples in recent years to back that claim.
When the chance came to put one on the
long-term fleet, I played the editor’s card. Partly, I’ll admit, because
Laurens van den Acker’s feisty design language attracted me – a rare occurrence
with cars this small. Here is a tiny tot that doesn’t overly pander to young
women, or insult adults with chunky graphics and huge, childish dials and
buttons. The Clio’s styling is surprisingly mature for a car aimed primarily at
the youth market, and it’s my bet it’ll age well as a result.
The
Clio is capable and fun without being uncomfortable or unrefined
It still packs a visual punch, though; our
Dynamique looks bloody good sitting in my driveway. Especially with optional
black alloys and 16-inch Continentals filling its arches.
I plumped for the 1197cc turbo four-pot
over the characterful 898cc triple, and the double-clutch gearbox it’s paired
with. I figured both would prove their worth in daily driving. Admittedly,
190Nm is not a tsunami of torque, but it’s 40 percent more than the triple’s
135Nm, and that has to make a difference in a 1,104kg Clio fivedoor. But it
does mean I miss out on the stop-start system, which is only available with
manual transmission models.
Didn’t plunder the accessories brochure
much when ordering the Clio, because the $23,290 Dynamique comes ready-packed
with most of my non-negotiables: cruise control, Bluetooth, remote everything
and climate control.
Inside
the Clio there's a generous amount of space and the cabin is of a particularly
good size
We added the premium pack to get satellite
navigation. Bizarrely, there’s a sat-nav on/off setting in the multimedia
system that took me a couple of days to find. Why in the world would somebody
want to disable a feature they paid extra for? Typically French, I suppose,
like the placement of another normally redundant switch, the cruise control
master switch. It’s buried under the centre armrest a long way from the rest of
the cruise control buttons on the steering wheel. In this case it doubles as a
speed limiter toggle, so its existence is perhaps justified, though its
placement is not.
Initial impressions reinforce opinions
formed during our 2013 Car of the Year dalliance. This is one fun and funky car
that doesn’t mind bounding puppy-like along my Sunday morning road. Steering is
sharp and attentive, the ride is composed, with just a dash of sporting
firmness, and the brakes don’t dally.
At COTY, the Clio’s double-clutch
transmission came in for criticism because it is slow to fully engage off the
mark. Everywhere else it’s a light-car revelation, but this one aspect is
worrying. There are a couple of intersections on my commute – can’t imagine I’m
Robinson Crusoe in this regard – where a decent take-off is required to merge
with fast traffic.
The
Clio's boot is tall but it isn’t particularly wide or long. A 300-litre
capacity is competitive, though
The 1.2-litre engine’s performance is not
as sparkling as I recall – it feels tight, restrained – and fuel consumption is
on the high side, given the proportion of my commute that’s on the open
freeway.
But I’m hoping both will free up with a few
more kilometres under the Clio’s tyres. A road trip to Sydney to visit the
family next month should loosen things up nicely – for both of us.
