Peugeot 208 vs Citroen C3

What's the difference?

The 208 GT-Line is hardly a car purchased on its value offering; it’s an emotional purchase. Fans of the brand know it, even Peugeot knows it.

Here’s the thing, though, the GT-Line looks the part, is true-to-its-roots in how fun it is to drive, and will surprise most with its spacious dimensions and decent spec level. So, while it might be an emotional buy, it’s not necessarily a bad one.

The Citroen C3’s plus column contains some big ticket items like a solid standard equipment list, design flair, generous interior space, an eager engine, good safety and a comfy suspension. However, the minus side of the ledger isn’t exactly empty, with entries like steep price, marginal perceived quality, poor cabin storage, sub-par refinement, okay economy, and high ownership costs. 

But there’s no doubt this car delivers a different, adventurous take on the city-sized hatch, and for you, that alone may count for more than any of those things. 

It might not be for you, but I had come around to the 208’s design by the time I handed the keys back. It’s a bit more upright and frumpy than the slick, conservative design of the Volkswagen Polo, or the swish, cutting-edge lines of the Mazda2.

It’s undeniably a European city car in its short and upright stance, but blazes its own path, even compared to French competitors. I grew quite fond of its weird, slopey bonnet, unconventional face and tough rear wheel arches. The way the rear light clusters clasp the rear to bring the design together is quite satisfying, as are the aluminium-brush alloys, recessed lights and the single chrome tailpipe.

It could be argued that this is a path well-travelled, with this 208 mirroring the design cues of the 207 that came before it, but I’d argue it holds its own, even in 2019. If you’re after something radically different, the styling on its replacement, due next year, is one to look out for.

On the inside, things are… unique.

There are cushy, deep seats for front occupants, with a super vertical dash design, leading up from the deep-set shifter (an older look) to the top-mounted media screen, which is slick, with its chrome bezel and lack of buttons.

The steering wheel is awesome. It’s tiny, strongly contoured and covered in nice leather trim. Its small, almost oval shape is super satisfying to wrangle, and enhances the way you interact with the front wheels.

What is extra strange about it is how far separated it is from the dash cluster. The dials are perched way atop the dash in a layout Peugeot refers to as the ‘iCockpit’. This is all very cool and aesthetic and French if you’re my height (182cm), but if you’re particularly short or particularly tall, the wheel begins to obscure vital information.

Other strange things about the cabin mainly involve little bits of plastic of varying quality strewn about the place. While the overall look is very cool, there are some odd bits of chrome trim and hollow black plastics about that probably don’t need to be there.

If Citroen is known for anything it’s daring, innovative design. From the idiosyncratic 2CV, via the sleek DS, to the ultra-cool SM, and angular BX, Citroen boasts a 100-plus year back-catalogue of stunning automotive breakthroughs.

And true to form, the C3 sits left-of-centre with a determined, almost angry expression defined by chrome borders extending from its signature ‘double chevron’ logo above the grille.

A mix of carefully radiused curves, soft organic shapes and whimsical decoration define the rest of this SUV-ish hatch. Rounded rectangles and squares (squircles?) are a recurring theme, forming part of a dent-resistant panel along the car’s flanks and embossed into the door cards inside.

Our white test example sported a (no-cost) contrast red roof colour, the same shade picking out details like the front fog light surrounds, exterior mirror caps and side scuff panels. 

The interior is less bold with a multi-tone grey colour palette broken up by light green contrast stitching on the seats, as well as piano black finish on the centre console and satin chrome highlights around the air vents, instrument panel and door handles.

Plus, the squircle still makes its presence felt in everything from the directional air vents to the speaker grilles and sections of the dash.

Functionality and ergonomics are good with sensible touches like a physical knob for audio volume control (big tick) as well as easy-to-navigate controls for audio, phone and more on the steering wheel.

An unexpected highlight, and regular talking point with people in the car during my week with it, is what Citroen calls ‘Luggage-inspired’ front interior door handles. 

Check out the interior photos. The straps look amazing, are easy to use, and remind me of the handle on my mum’s circa-1965 Olympia portable typewriter.  

The 208 hit me with some surprises here. Firstly, don’t drink and drive this car. And, by that I mean, don’t even begin to think you’ll find a good spot for a decently sized coffee. There are two cupholders under the dash; they are about an inch deep, and narrow enough to accommodate maybe a piccolo latte. Place anything else in there and you’re asking for a spillage.

There’s also an odd little trench there that barely fits a phone, and a top-box arm-rest thing that’s tiny and bound to the driver’s seat. The glovebox is large and also air-conditioned.

The front seats offer heaps of room, though, for arms, head and especially legs, and there is no shortage of soft surfaces for elbows.

The back seat was also a surprise. I was expecting it to be an afterthought, as it is in many cars this size, but the 208 delivers, with excellent matching seat trim and generous legroom.

Sadly, that’s where back-seat amenities end. There are tiny trenches in the door, but no air vents or cupholders. You’ll have to make do with just the pockets on the backs of the front seats.

Don’t be fooled by the 208’s cropped rear, the boot is deep and grants a surprising 311 litres to the shelf, and maxes out a 1152L with the second row folded down. Also surprising  is the inclusion of a full-size steel spare, stashed under the floor.

At a fraction under 4.0m long, just over 1.8m wide, and close to 1.5m tall, the C3 is a small hatch that, in terms of practicality, does well in some areas and could do better in others.

On the plus side, there’s plenty of space for the driver and front seat passenger, and rear room is surprisingly generous. Sitting behind the driver’s seat, set for my 183cm position, I had more than adequate head, leg and knee room.

Three full-size adults across the rear is a short-journey proposition only, but a trio of up to mid-teenage kids will be fine.

The space-efficiency carries over to the boot, with 300 litres of volume available (below the parcel shelf) with the 60/40 split-folding rear seat upright. But beyond that number, the space has been carefully sculpted to maximise usability.

We managed to fit our three-piece (36L, 95L, 124L) luggage set in there, with a small cheat of removing the divider, and could swap them out for the bulky CarsGuide pram, with room to spare. Fold the rear backrest down and available space increases to an impressive 922 litres.

The downside is storage and concessions to comfort elsewhere in the car. As in, a lack of them.

For a start, the dual cupholders in the front centre console confirm the French’s affection for Espresso. You’ll struggle to locate an average size take-away coffee cup in one of those dainty receptacles.

The front door bins are long but relatively narrow, and lack a designated spot to hold bottles upright, so I found myself laying drink bottles horizontally along them, which is awkward.

Plus, there’s no lidded storage box between the front seats, so no centre armrest, either. Rather an open tray behind the handbrake lever.

The glove box is modest, there’s a small open cubby below the central multimedia screen that isn’t big enough to hold a phone, there’s just one USB-A port for connectivity/power and a single 12V outlet.

No fold-down centre armrest in the rear, either. There are map pockets on the front seat backs, a single (again, small) cupholder at the end of the front centre console for back-seaters to share, and while rear door pockets are welcome, they’re petite.

Yes, the boot is commodious, but it lacks tie-down anchors to secure loose loads, and the flimsy carpet in there is prone to moving around.

On a more positive note, the spare is a 15-inch space-saver, which is streets ahead of the all-too common inflator/repair kit.

The Citroen C3 is offered in a single Shine grade, and lines up against a slew of similarly city-sized hatches from China, Europe, Japan and South Korea. Think Kia Rio, Mazda2, MG3, Suzuki Swift, Toyota Yaris, and VW Polo. 

But when it comes to its price - $32,267, before on-road costs - you’re looking at primo competitors only, like the Suzuki Swift Sport Turbo ($30,990), Toyota Yaris ZR Hybrid ($32,200), and VW Polo Style ($31,250).

And to tempt you away from those more mainstream options, Citroen loads up the C3 with a solid list of standard equipment.

Aside from the safety tech covered later in the review, this small hatch features keyless entry and start, cruise control, a 10-inch colour multimedia touchscreen (with voice recognition across multiple functions), climate control air, a leather-trimmed steering wheel, six-speaker audio (with digital radio as well as Bluetooth, Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity), built-in sat nav, LED headlights and daytime running lights, rain-sensing wipers, and 16-inch alloy wheels. 

Not too shabby, but bear in mind, as is often the case in this class, the trim is cloth, the front seats adjust manually and the instruments are conventional analogue. 

At this point, it’s important to mention ‘perceived quality’, a term used in various industries to describe the look, touch and feel of a product. And it’s here that the C3 suffers. 

Open the tailgate, look to the pillar on the right-hand side of the rear windscreen (from the inside) and you’re confronted with more than half a dozen spot weld craters that have creased the sheet metal to varying degrees. Not to mention a crude fold of the outside panel onto this interior piece. Perfectly functional, but not a good look.

The elastic cords suspending the cargo divider at the top of the boot space feel as insubstantial as the thin metal hooks they’re attached to, and the finisher matt sitting on top of the engine looks like it won’t stand the test of time. 

There are other examples, but suffice it to say, the overall feel is not in the same league as this car’s main competitors.

The regular (that’s non-GTi) 208s are offered with just one engine now. A 1.2-litre turbo petrol three-cylinder, which produces 81kW/205Nm. While that doesn’t sound like an awful lot, it turns out to be plenty for the little 1070kg hatch.

Unlike some notable French manufacturers, Peugeot has seen the light and dumped single-clutch automatics (aka automated manuals) in favour of a six-speed torque converter auto, which does its best to have you not notice it.

It also has a stop-start system, which might save fuel (I couldn’t objectively prove that it did) but will definitely annoy you at the lights.

The Citroen C3 is powered by a small-capacity (1.2-litre), turbo-petrol, three-cylinder engine, driving the front wheels through a six-speed automatic transmission. 

This little unit punches well above its weight thanks to tech like direct injection, and dual variable valve timing to enhance pulling power. The lightweight (all-alloy) unit produces 81kW of power at 5500rpm and a substantial 205Nm of torque at just 1500rpm.

The claimed/combined fuel number for the 208 GT-Line is a slightly unrealistic-sounding 4.5L/100km. Sure enough, after a week of city/highway combined driving, I produced a number of 7.4L/100km. So, a solid miss. Slightly less-enthusiastic driving should see that number drop, but I still don’t see how you could get it down to 4.5L/100km.

The 208 requires a minimum of 95RON mid-range fuel, and has a 50-litre tank.

Citroen’s official fuel economy number for the combined (ADR 81/02 - urban, extra-urban) cycle is 5.2L/100km, the 1.2-litre three-cylinder emitting a modest 118g/km of CO2 in the process.

Our time with the car included mainly city and suburban trips, with some freeway running thrown in, and the result was a (dash-indicated) average of 8.0L/100km. Not exactly miserly, and points to the turbo triple having to work pretty hard to keep up around town.

Minimum fuel recommendation is the relatively pricey 95 RON premium unleaded, but you’ll need just 45 litres of it to fill the tank. Using the official consumption figure, that translates to a range of 865km, dropping to around 560km using our real-world number.

The 208 is good fun, and lives up to its heritage of making the most of its lightweight dimensions and small figure to make for an agile city-slicker. The engine outputs might look like just any other hatch in this class, but the turbo comes on nice and strong in an impressively linear fashion.

It makes for reliable and strong acceleration, with the peak 205Nm of torque available at 1500rpm.

A featherweight at 1070kg, you’ll find no complaints from me about its performance. It’s no GTi, but it will still be warm enough for most.

Despite its upright figure, handling is fantastic, too. The low-profile Michelins feel planted at the front and back, and, unlike the GTi, you never really feel at risk of understeer or wheelspin.

This is all enhanced by the intense helm, with the small steering wheel giving it a thoroughly engaging feel. You can chuck this car into corners and down alleyways with enthusiasm, and it feels like it loves it as much as you do.

The suspension is stiff, especially at the rear, and the low-profile rubber makes it noisy on coarse-chip surfaces, but you’ll barely hear a peep out of the little engine. Other notable downsides include the slow-to-react stop-start system (which you can turn off) and the lack of active cruise, which would be nice at this price.

The C3’s compact footprint and relatively light weight (1090kg) make it an urban-friendly option and outputs from the 1.2-litre turbo-petrol engine are exceptional.

Maximum torque of 205 Nm is plenty of pulling power from such a tiny unit, and with that number arriving at just 1500rpm it should be ideally suited to stop-start traffic. 

And yes, with enthusiast use of the right pedal the C3 gets up and goes pretty well, but refinement isn’t its strongest suit. 

The throttle can be jumpy unless you’re super smooth with it, the three-cylinder engine’s typically coarse note makes its presence felt under load, and the brakes need to be dealt with gently to avoid an overly aggressive stop.

Sure, familiarity and practice will help you get in tune with the car but it’s not a smooth ‘plug-and-play’ drive like the majority of its competitors.

That said, in true Citroen fashion, steering feel is good, the front seats are as comfortable as they are supportive, while the suspension manages to blend plush compliance with excellent dynamic response. Another Citroen hallmark.

The six-speed auto shifts smoothly, with a press of the Sport button encouraging it to shift up later and down earlier for a more urgent response. But the zig-zag (my term, not Citroen’s) shift pattern makes for an awkward shuffle between D, N and R when parking. No doubt you’d get used to it, but I’m not a fan.

Speaking of parking, the C3's diminutive size makes it easy to slot into even tight spots, the standard front and rear proximity sensors, as well as a decent resolution reversing camera helping out, too.

The Citroen C3 scores four out of five ANCAP stars courtesy of testing dating back to 2017.

The sticking point was a sub-par result in Pedestrian Protection, one of the independent safety body’s four main assessment areas (beside Adult Occupant Protection, Child Occupant Protection, and Safety Assist).

Specifically, potential pedestrian head injuries resulting from contact with the base of the windscreen and “stiff” windscreen pillars.

But Citroen hasn’t left the C3 standing still with active (crash-avoidance) tech fitted to the current model including the usual suspects like stability and traction controls as well as more sophisticated systems like ‘Autonomous Emergency Braking’ (AEB), forward collision warning, blind-spot monitoring, lane departure warning, ‘Driver Attention Alert’, a reversing camera (with zoom function), and tyre pressure monitoring. 

That said, although there are parking sensors front and rear, there’s no cross-traffic alert (front or rear), no adaptive functionality on the cruise control, and no lane change assist. Arguably unrealistic to suggest all of these should be included at this price point but it’s worth noting not all boxes are ticked.

If a crash is unavoidable there are six airbags on-board (driver and front passenger front and side, plus full-length side curtain). The hazard lights automatically activate when emergency braking force is applied, but multi-collision brake, which reduces the chances of further impacts after an initial crash, is missing-in-action.

There are three top tethers for child seats or baby capsules across the back seat, with ISOFIX anchor points in the two outer rear positions. 

Peugeot offers a five-year/unlimited-kilometre warranty on its entire range of passenger cars, which is up-to-date and in-line with most segment competitors.

The 208 requires servicing at yearly or 15,000km intervals (whichever occurs first) and has a fixed price to the length of the warranty.

Servicing is not cheap, with yearly visits costing between $397 and $621, although there’s nothing on the optional extras list, that price is all-inclusive.

Total cost over the five-year period is $2406 for an (expensive) average of $481.20 a year.

Citroen covers the C3 with a five year/unlimited km warranty, which is cost-of-entry now in the mainstream market, and roadside assistance is included for the duration.

Service is scheduled for 12 month/15,000km intervals, with costs capped for the first five workshop visits. The average annual figure over that period is $505, which is way more than double the $205 you’ll pay annually for servicing a Toyota Yaris ZR Hybrid. Sacre bleu!