Peugeot 2008 vs Citroen C3 Aircross

What's the difference?

The 2008's score is slightly hurt by the price and the lack of advanced safety features (mostly reverse cross-traffic alert) but is boosted by the fantastic looks, great dynamics and avant-garde interior. While it certainly isn't the cheapest compact SUV, it certainly is one of the most stylish and, in some ways, innovative. 

Peugeot has a mountain to climb in Australia, a hangover from more than a decade of indifferent or oddball cars. The 2008 is a key plank of its premium strategy and that will become more important when it throws the full EV e-2008 at us later this year, or early next. This 2008 is the car to grab those younger buyers, I just wonder if they're keen enough to stump up the cash.

It's a good car, no question. Individuality is key to Citroen's brand appeal and you get that, too. A comfortable cabin, plush ride and hot damn, it's way too expensive, which is a crying shame. You could argue - as Citroen's product planners probably have - that it doesn't help to offer one in the mid-$20K mark because it won't make much money because so few people will buy it. Drop it at a premium, only lose a few opportunistic buyers but make more money per unit with committed fans? Why not, I guess?

Like most French cars, I'm glad it exists for weird French car fans like me to consider.

The 2008 is a cracking looking machine, with  a lot of what looks like Audi Q2 in profile (and detailing). It fooled a few passers-by, including the regular, "What have you got this week?" crew of neighbours. It's a brilliant design, sporting the 508's big light-up fangs and the cat's claw segmented taillights. Chunky but not self-conscious, it's great to look at.

Peugeot cabins are brilliant these days, with clever, interesting designs that I think are really challenging the way other carmakers think about what to put in front of the people in the front seat. The i-Cockpit works well in the SUVs (m'colleague Richard Berry will likely disagree), but the excessively cool 3D dashboard - with a screen that looks like it's floating in front of you like a hologram - really helps push the idea that the price being asked is actually quite reasonable. Lovely materials throughout, cool detailing, lots of thought and even usable cupholders. It's mad in all the right ways.

As you might imagine, it's an individual design. Lots of Cactus cues, like the roof rails, bluff front end and stacked headlights Hyundai, uh, appropriated for the Kona. Curiously, no 'airbumps' along the side despite the C3 hatch having them...

The 17-inch wheels somehow look tiddly given the airspace over the wheels and I can report that black is not really this car's colour, even with the contrasting white roof and weird Mazda 121 Shades special edition venetian blind treatment on the quarter window. Bit of an '80s throwback there for you.

Lots more Cactus inside though, starting with the brilliant front seats, squared-off steering wheel and funky air vents. The little tray on top of the glove box is good, but it isn't rubber-lined, so that's annoying.

The Top Gun handbrake is hilarious but apart from the texturing of the fabric on the seats, it's a tad dark below the windowline. 

Starting with the bad stuff, what is it with carmakers - and fellow French carmaker Renault was front and centre in my head here - not putting a rear armrest and cupholders in SUVs? These are cars that can fit families, so neglecting the rear  passengers seems weird and sloppy. You can kind of forgive a $25,000 Kona Go (RIP), but not a $35,000 premium product. A small but irritating detail.

Up front, you do get useful cupholders, a small centre console bin and glove box and the doors will hold bottles. There's a dedicated spot for your phone, too, which is nice.

The boot is a gigantic 434 litres, beating pretty much every other car in the space that's not from France, and with the 60/40 split-fold out of the way, you have 1467 litres at your disposal. There's also a false floor on the boot that you can either remove or use to separate valuables or muddy/stinky/sandy outdoorsy stuff.

Even for a little car, the Aircross could do better. The lack of a proper cupholder provision for the car - a solitary spot at the rear of the centre console - is mildly baffling until you remember that this car is from France. The French hate a cupholder but, obviously, you can fit wine bottles in the doors.

It's worth repeating just how comfortable and supportive the front seats are on any given journey. Broad but supportive and somehow perfectly sprung, I would cheerfully rip out most other front seats and replace them with these.

The rear seats are less of these things and anyone who forces anyone to use the middle seat should be ashamed of themselves. The headroom is good back there, though.

The boot is a big one for the size of the car, swallowing 410 litres and expanding to 1289 litres with both rear seat sections folded.

A perennial Citroen problem is the price - at $32,990, the tiny SUV is doing battle with cars that are really a size up, coming in closer in size to the Venue than, say, the ASX.

That Yaris Hybrid price (we're all still reeling from that number) scores you a 17-inch alloys, a six-speaker stereo, climate control, front camera, reversing camera, keyless entry and start, front and rear parking sensors, cruise control, sat nav, halogen headlights (yep, you read that right), head-up display, leather wheel and shifter, auto parking, auto wipers and headlights, wireless charging pad and a space-saver spare.

The central touchscreen is annoying in that there are almost no hardware switches for functions like climate control. The software is a bit on the slow side, too, but you do get Android Auto and Apple CarPlay. The stereo is fine.

The Puretech 1.2-litre three-cylinder is a cracker of an engine and I won't hear a bad word against it. Partly because nobody ever says bad things about it. In the Allure, it's in 130 specification, which means 96kW and 230Nm of torque. The power figure is in line with almost everything in the class and the torque figure is good for the segment, especially considering the 1267kg kerb weight.

Driving the front wheels via a six-speed Aisin-supplied automatic, the Allure will complete the sprint to 100km/h in under 10 seconds. It feels quick enough, but that might be the torque curve filling in after a tardy start. If you're willing to drop another nine grand, you can have 114kW, eight gears and a slightly quicker 0-100km/h time.

One of the great engines in mass-produced road cars today has found its way under the bonnet of the Aircross. Peugeot-Citroen's 1.2-litre three-cylinder turbo is a cracking engine, serving up 81kW/205Nm through a six-speed Aisin-sourced auto to the front wheels.

While the 11.8-second dash to 100km/h is, uh, leisurely, the torque figure means that on the move it's not as sluggish as that number or its 1200kg kerb weight would suggest.

Peugeot says the Allure completed its government-mandated testing with a 6.5L/100km combined cycle figure while huffing out 148g/km of carbon dioxide.

I managed 6.8L/100km driving as I normally would around the suburbs and with some fast roads in the mix. That's an impressively close number to the official figures and lines up well with the more accurate WLTP findings.

Citroen claims a handy 6.6L/100km on the combined cycle and my week with the fizzy Frenchie included a trip over the hills and far away as well as a lot of suburban running. 

The digital display on the dashboard read 7.3L/100km, which isn't bad going without stop-start. It does require 95 RON premium fuel, though.

My first experience with the 2008 was in tipping rain on the same day I drove the 5008, so it was nice for the sun to shine during the time I had it. Dry roads and Peugeots are way more fun, although it was uncommonly wet on my first attempt.

What struck me about the 2008 is how sure-footed it is, even on the cheap-ish tyres fitted. It has that lovely, pointy Peugeot feel of the other cars in the range, which is partly to do with the hilariously small steering wheel but mostly because they're just so well set up.

The 2008 handles all the nastiness of suburban streets, even with torsion beams at the rear, something European cars somehow make work with almost magical effect. It's also very quiet inside, whether it's wind, tyre or engine noise, none of which make much impact on the occupants.

The transmission and engine work extremely well together, so well I don't think I resorted to the paddles even once to hurry things along. Quite a few cars in this class either have a whining continuously variable transmission or a sometimes-clunky twin-clutch auto. The smoothness of the Aisin six-speeder is excellent and it seems to know where the turbo lag is, and shifts accordingly. It also picks up when you want it to, wringing every last drop of torque out of the engine when you need it most. The car does slow noticeably when loaded up, but you'll get that in every other car in the class, too.

French cars have a very specific audience in this country, which includes weirdos like me. I've owned Peugeots and Renaults and loved every second of it.

Top of my list after my darling baby boy wrote off our family car (which was bought for him to drive), the Cactus was close to the top of the list. This fandom isn't blind, though - I know what I'm getting myself into having to dispassionately assess their faults and foibles as well as their triumphs and tangible benefits.

If I'm being honest - and it's just you and I here - I didn't think I'd like the C3 Aircross, there was just something about its SUV pretensions. I can't say the looks grabbed me and the inexplicable exclusion of the airbumps made me irrationally cross.

But once you slip behind that square-ish wheel into the comfortable embrace of those excellent seats, you forget the aesthetics (which did grow on me, even in black). 

The 1.2 turbo is, as ever, eager to please and well-matched to the six-speed auto. The two work well together to get you moving, although the engine is the noisiest installation I can remember. In the Peugeot 308, it's virtually silent.

On the move, the lovely ride also impresses, soaking up the bumps (except those aggressive rubber speed humps in shopping centre car parks) while keeping body roll to an acceptable minimum.

It's perfectly fine in the suburbs, even with its limited power. Breaking into traffic can be a bit of a moment, but there are slower cars about.

Where the Aircross is really good is out on the freeway. It's quiet for such a small car and that torque figure makes joining the M4 freeway (west out of Sydney) fine, and it cheerfully kept up on the climb up the Blue Mountains and the brakes and transmission were great down the other side.

Citroen is unashamedly about comfort over handling, but the trade-off for the comfort is pretty good in that it still handles despite a plush ride and being up on stilts.

Along with six airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls, the Aircross has low-speed AEB (up to 30km/h), blind-spot monitoring, lane departure warning, driver attention monitoring and speed sign recognition.

Three top tether anchors and two ISOFIX points complete the picture with a five-star Euro NCAP rating dating back to 2017. There is no corresponding ANCAP score, despite the agreement between the two agencies.

Peugeot's five-year warranty, five-year capped-price servicing and five years of roadside assist is a solid, if unspectacular offering. Which is a bit rude, because three years ago we'd have been bowing at Peugeot's feet for such generosity. It's a thankless business.

Servicing comes around every 12 months/15,000km, which is pretty good going for a turbo engine in this class (except, of course, Renaults, which go for 30,000km) and you'll pay, on average, $447 per service, which isn't awful, but is not cheap either.

Citroen offers a class-competitive five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty with a five year service plan if you want to pre-pay.

That plan costs a stiff $2727 for your five visits (or every 12 months/15,000km). That's nearly three times what you'll pay for a C-HR or about $400 more than a Mazda CX-3.