I always approach the rental desk of my chosen holiday car hire company with a degree of disinterest bordering on resignation. After all, one of those brand-spanking new cars outside is never going to be turned over to me is it? I’ll probably get the two-year-old Anonymous-mobile that I’ve driven a hundred times before.

So I’d paid my £259 for two weeks (ouch!), got my paperwork filled in and been handed some keys. The double chevrons gave away the manufacturer, i.e. Citroën, but I guess I just thought I’d be getting a basic Saxo, the ‘outgoing’ model.

Therefore I was mildly surprised and pleased to find that I’d been given a two-month-old Citroën C3, and obviously one of fairly high specification. C3’s don’t flaunt GTi or SLX badges at the rear, so initially it was giving nothing away, although the colour-coded metallic silver (i.e. buggers to get scratched, and therefore just what every hire company needs!) bumpers tended to hint at something above base model.

The C3 is a five-door hatchback in the ‘Supermini’ bracket. It comes with a variety of engine sizes including a 1.1litre petrol version (ours) and a 1.4 litre oil burner. The petrol engine pushes out a modest 60 brake horse power, and this was to prove significant later, as the weather got steadily hotter, paralleling but surpassing the ‘phew what a scorcher’ days here in the UK by about 5 more degrees (C!).

The car was equipped with variable-rate power steering and basic air-conditioning, i.e. not climate control. It had four ‘real’ headlights, not the usual twin-filament bulbs, and the dip-beams are adjustable from within the car, as were the door mirrors. The front air dam was also home to a couple of halogen driving/fog lamps.

The stereo was a Clarion-sourced affair, no bad thing in my opinion, and had a single CD-player and FM stereo radio, upgradeable to a multi-player if needed. From a personal point of view, I’m much keener on ‘unique-fit’ equipment these days, whereas the Clarion machine was a standard E4 dashboard fitting, and therefore easier to rip-off and sell in a pub to a gullible punter who doesn’t know that it also needs the built-in dashboard display to work properly. It can also be controlled for volume and channel from the right steering column stalk.

I’m including equipment that I’ve either not encountered before or at least not in a car like this. It goes without saying, that being a French car, a certain ‘verve’ has been put into the interior fitting design. Not that it’s particularly colourful, being three shades of grey with some matt-silver bits, more the way it’s toned in and with not a straight line on show.

Unusually, the front seats had central armrests that could be retracted when not wanted. They were not, however, height-adjustable. Any discrepancy between the two rests was down to the relative seat-back angle to which they were linked.

The ‘donger’ that ….err donged every time we went above 45 kph wasn’t too welcome until we realised that it can be turned off, or set to warn of any speed being exceeded, so I suppose it could be termed a ‘poor man’s cruise control’. I’ve come across this in a Beemer but never in a basic family car before.

The control binnacle was an eclectic mix of digital and analogue indicators. For instance, the speedo was a liquid crystal, as was the tripmeter, the fuel and temperature gauges were lit orange columns of hyphens and VERY ‘in your face’ In a semicircular arc around all this was an analogue tachometer (rev counter) – all very Fritz Lang meets Matrix

Firstly, the matt silver bits appear to have been painted, if the wear and tear to the door handles was anything to go by – bear in mind that this was a mere two months old, so you wouldn’t expect to see black plastic peeping through just yet.

The passenger electric window failed in the down position, but of course if you owned the damn thing, you’d be down to that dealer’s tomorrow banging on their door. Me, I was 40 miles from Budget, so with a bit of effort I just managed to get it back into position and Duck-taped my wife’s hands behind her back for the rest of the holiday. This also kept our credit card spending within more reasonable limits, so thank you to Citroën for a flawed product – nice one, you saved us a fortune!

USING IT

As a further sound-deadening measure, I suspect, top (5th) gear is a rather long-legged 2,200 r.p.m for 80 kph (about 50 mph), which for such a low powered engine seems a trifle overdone. This manifests itself as a reluctance to climb even shallow hills, such as found on motorways, when four passengers are on board. Turn on the air-conditioning and watch it flag still further, until everything seems to require the use of one gear lower than normal. It’s either that or say hallo to the truck ‘creeper’ lane! Turning off the ‘air’ by contrast feels like someone just lit your afterburners, and can be used as your last ace in the hole when in a fix. I also found that a combination of 5th gear WITH the ‘air’ turned on was a good way of preventing the car exceeding the motorway limit on long DOWNhill runs, like some luxury coaches use an electric retarder to prevent overheating the brakes!

Where the C3 really scores is in the field of ride comfort. I’ve already touched on the comparatively low interior noise level, and to continue the illusion that you’re driving something much more swish, the car rides in straight lines beautifully. Given my reservations of its ability when loaded and with the ‘aircon’ running, it makes an excellent motorway cruiser (in Britain in winter perhaps!).

SUMMING UP

If you want a small family car that’s comfortable to ride in over long distances, even for tall people, then the C3 is worth a test drive at least. Of course, the downside of this suavity is a distinct lack of hard cornering ability, but everything in life; car handling included, is a compromise. At least all the passengers get what my wife calls the ‘Oh Sh**!’ handles to hang onto.

If I could give it 3.5 stars, I would!