Skoda Fabia vs Kia Rio

What's the difference?

Once you get past the shock of the Fabia no longer being a sub-$25K car (because let’s face it, what is anymore?), the fact that it remains refreshingly simple to live with and engaging on the road should be celebrated.

It has its downsides if you need space, and you can buy a light (or even small) SUV for the same price, but you’ll be compromising in other areas.

The Skoda Fabia can’t do everything, but what it can, it does well. Plus, it’s certainly less common than the similarly priced Toyota Yaris.

The Rio S Manual is a fun-to-drive little car with a big practicality and multimedia offering in a segment rapidly heading towards extinction.

While some elements of the drive experience are reminiscent of budget cars from 10-20 years ago, Kia makes up for it by wrapping the Rio in a contemporary looking and feeling package, ready for the buyer who needs no frills and demands no nonsense. Until the manual transmission goes the way of the dodo, there is almost no better option.

The Fabia’s design hasn’t departed dramatically from its predecessor, but the evolution into the current generation has the little Skoda looking more mature and smoother than before.

Some elements like its grille and headlights are a little sleeker and the car looks less boxy, but still has a unique Skoda design language that’s instantly recognizable.

Its chrome grille trim and its set of unusual 16-inch alloy wheels are the clues that this is the entry Select, plus the lack of much badging.

Inside, the change in generation is most obvious in the step-up in materials and some of the aforementioned tech (screens in particular), though the steering wheel is a carry-over even if it doesn’t look dated.

The new instrument display cowl which features the model name on its side, the round air vents, and the fabric across the dash bring the interior into the current decade, though the centre stack’s modernity is betrayed by climate controls that could have existed in 1998.

There are a fair few hard plastic surfaces, though none of them are in poorly thought-out places and don’t let the cabin down too much.

While notable equipment is missing, the Rio reclaims lost ground with the way it looks, and to a degree, the way it feels.

Ever since this new generation hatch launched, I’ve thought it brings a slick modern design to the city-car space, and even in its most rudimentary form as-tested (our car even came in the most basic ‘Clear White’ paint) it’s a great looking little hatch.

Sure, it doesn’t have the romance factor of the Fiat 500, nor the more delicate curvature of the much more expensive new-generation Toyota Yaris, but it certainly has a more refined visage than, say, the MG3 whilst feeling a bit more grown-up than the Suzuki Swift.

Solid, squared-off lines give this car a sporty pose, and its frowny-face and blocky rear round out a stout city-car persona, and I especially like the way even this most basic trim is adorned with contrast pieces, a spoiler above the boot lid, and body-coloured door handles and mirrors.

Sure, the 15-inch steelies dress it down a bit, but on the Rio these leave the impression of financial prudence rather than cost-cutting.

Inside is basic but tidy. The overall look maintains a hint of sportiness, with an appealing symmetrical finish to the dash.

There’s no question the Rio is a budget model when it comes to the touch though, with everything either a soft polyurethane or a nasty hard plastic, so while it all might look neat it’s far from the most comfortable place to be for long periods of time.

The basic dot-matrix multifunction display, chunky plastic air-conditioning controls, and polyurethane items from the wheel to the handbrake and shifter are reminders of a bygone era, but the overall aesthetic of the driver’s space is pleasing.

There are cars in the market that, for around or not much more than $30,000, seem like a bargain given the perceived value of features like big touchscreens and (synthetic) leather. 

The Fabia Select doesn’t have those things, but everything in it makes sense and, more importantly, everything works well.

For example, as much as I point out the dated-looking air conditioning controls, the reality is they're much easier to use than an in-screen menu requiring the same amount of attention as replying to a text while driving - something that is rightfully illegal.

Simple controls on the steering wheel, a touchscreen that doesn’t require much attention, a clear driver display and a few shortcut buttons around the gear selector mean you can focus more of your attention on driving, without lacking any of the convenience or features you’d expect in a new car.

Wireless phone mirroring for Apple CarPlay and Android Auto add to this, as you can bypass Skoda’s (fine, but basic) multimedia software easily.

The lack of wireless phone charging is a shame, but not a deal-breaker, as the space under the centre stack is conveniently sized. The same can’t be said for the tiny storage bin under the centre armrest, though.

However, the glove box and door card storage is generous and there’s the Skoda-standard umbrella in the door that’s accessible when open.

The seats in the Fabia have decent bolstering and are ergonomically sound, manual adjustment is easy enough and there’s a turning wheel rather than a lever with increments to adjust the backrest.

Given the Fabia’s diminutive stature relative to most vehicles on the road, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the back seat isn’t the most spacious. But as an average-sized adult it feels like the kind of space I’d be comfortable in for a short trip, with adequate headroom, knee room and even a vent.

There’s no centre armrest, though, and the seats aren’t as comfortable as the fronts.

Behind the 60/40 split-fold there’s a generous (for a hatch this size) 380-litre boot with bag hooks, though the floor has some mildly intrusive angled plastic elements.

Impressively, the Fabia has a spare tyre rather than a repair kit, so kudos to Skoda for not taking the cheap (and less safe) option.

I'd argue the key reason to buy the Rio at this end of the market is that it has the most space and largest cabin relative to its rivals, bar maybe the Suzuki Baleno.

All-round practicality is great, with front passengers scoring a low, sporty seating position with a high roof, and so much width in the cabin it almost feels like the Rio belongs in the next segment up.

Storage options up front include a large bottle holder and bin in each of the doors, dual cupholders next to the handbrake up front, and a large storage tray underneath the climate unit. Unlike the Yaris or Mazda2, the Rio features a small armrest console box, which gives a small lift to the ambiance of the cabin.

Back seat passengers are treated to great space for this segment, which feels nice and open courtesy of the large rear windows. At 182cm tall, I have airspace for my knees behind my own driving position, as well as relatively healthy headroom and ample width, which is again more like a car in the next segment up.

Rear passengers don’t get adjustable air vents, but there is a single USB port, a single pocket on the back of the passenger seat, and small bottle holders in each of the doors.

Perhaps the Rio’s biggest drawcard is its boot capacity, which at 325 litres is one of the largest in the city car class. Unlike the Yaris, Mazda2, or Suzuki Swift, the Rio will actually accept the CarsGuide three-piece luggage set with the rear seats up, although the rear view was obscured by the medium case.

Thanks to the boxy roofline, the Rio offers a cavernous 980L with the rear seats folded down, and despite its abundance of room, maintains a space saver spare wheel under the floor.

Value seems less important here when you’re contending with a limited list of potential options at this end of the market.

The Rio S manual currently wears an MSRP of $19,690, and if you’re able to shuffle cogs yourself, it counts its rivals as the Suzuki Baleno GL ($18,490), Suzuki Ignis GL ($19,490), or Fiat 500 Lounge ($19,550).

There’s also the option of the MG3 (from $18,990) or Kia’s own much smaller Picanto (from $15,990).

I’m pleased to report the Rio S is one of the best among these options, though. Not only is this car much more modern in terms of its platform and design than pretty much anything on that list, it packs great standard equipment, too.

The major wow-factor item is the Rio’s best-in-class multimedia system, consisting of an 8.0-inch touchscreen with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity, just one of the areas where this car will grab eyes over rivals.

Elsewhere is a predictably honest list of standard equipment, including basic halogen headlights, 15-inch steel wheels, manual air conditioning, cloth seat trim with a polyurethane steering wheel, a small multifunction display in the dash, two USB ports, a six-speaker audio system, and surprisingly, steering-wheel mounted controls.

There’s no keyless entry or push-start ignition, and this level of equipment makes you feel lucky to have automatic headlights. Sadly, the S manual also misses out on the basic luxury of cruise control.

It’s cheap, missing a lot of gear, and feels it with an abundance of plastic trims, but somehow this car gets by with almost everything you really, truly need. Sure, it’s a bit of a hark back to the equipment lists of the early 2000s, but if you’re just looking for a basic car to get the job done, you could do far worse than this Kia with its impressive multimedia offering.

The Fabia’s turbocharged 1.0-litre, three-cylinder, petrol engine makes 85kW and 200Nm in this guise, mated to a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission driving the front wheels only.

Given the Fabia weighs 1265kg, getting to 100km/h in under 10 seconds - which it should be able to do, just - might depend on how many passengers you have.

While it’s not very fast or powerful, the Fabia’s outputs sit about average for its class and price.

The Rio is beginning to fall behind here with an antiquated 1.4-litre four-cylinder non-turbo petrol engine. Peak outputs aren’t far off where they should be for this segment, with 74kW of power and 133Nm of torque, although they arrive at the most distant end of the rpm range (6000rpm and 4000rpm respectively) so you need to rev it.

It can be clumsy to extract this power, too, with the engine paired in this circumstance to a six-speed manual which leaves a lot to be desired in terms of action and clutch feel.

While the abundance of ratios can be beneficial for fuel consumption, it’s clear this car was designed to be paired with the more modern three-cylinder turbocharged engine only available on the top GT-Line trim.

The Fabia has a 5.0L/100km combined cycle (urban/extra-urban) fuel consumption figure under WLTP testing, with a minimum 95RON premium fuel grade required.

With its 42-litre fuel tank, that means you could hypothetically expect to cover a touch more than 800km before running out of fuel, though that seems unlikely in the real world.

Despite a particularly lively drive undertaken purely for testing purposes, the highest fuel consumption the trip computer displayed was 7.7L/100km, which isn’t so bad when you consider the Fabia’s not likely to be driven hard most of the time.

The Rio S manual has an official combined cycle fuel consumption rating of 5.6L/100km, which is about right for a light car with a small engine.

On test, covering largely urban kilometres, I saw a higher but not unreasonable 7.4L/100km. Still, this number isn’t too far off what some larger cars with 2.0-litre engines are capable of.

Rios with this engine accept entry-level 91RON unleaded fuel, and have 45-litre fuel tanks. They are only compliant with Euro 5 emissions regulations.

If you’re someone who doesn’t need a big car and likes an engaging drive, the Fabia ticks those boxes.

In fact, it feels like it punches above its weight. Well, not literally, because while it actually weighs in at over 1.2 tonnes, it feels lighter than even that.

Tight corners don’t faze the Fabia, and its steering and suspension both feel more dialled-in than a car with 85kW has any right to.

Yep, even though its engine is only slightly more powerful than some budget sports cars from the 1980s it feels peppier than it should.

It has some low-speed hesitancy thanks to its transmission - taking off from a stop sign if you’re not in Sport mode can be annoying - but with shift paddles (or a manual gearbox… ) the Fabia could be a hidden gem for enthusiasts.

Its suspension is firm, but not sharp enough that it allows bumps and rough roads to make their way into the cabin as shocks or rattles, and even holds its own on unsealed surfaces at sensible rural speeds.

The Fabia feels playful even on a commute, and the follow-through from the rear-end on a spirited bit of cornering speaks volumes about its chassis, even in urban driving.

A six-speed manual with a tiny non-turbo engine is an absolute oddity in today’s new car market, but as a result of its rudimentary approach, there’s something refreshingly honest about the Rio S.

The engine requires a wringing to extract the desired result, and a lot of action on the gears, as six speeds proves to be quite a few to work your way through before you achieve cruising speed.

As so much interaction is required with the transmission, I wish it was tighter when it comes to the clutch which feels a bit doughy at the best of times.

The Rio is very organic, though, with next to no electrical assistance for any of its interaction points offering the driver a high level of control.

The steering is direct, but as a result of a cheaper rack (with less teeth compared to this car’s Stonic relation), it feels simple and brittle when it comes to feedback.

The same criticism can be levelled at the suspension, which errs on the side of firm. This attribute combines with the low seating position to make even this most basic Rio an absolute hoot in the corners.

But it can be a little crashy over every-day potholes and corrugations, despite the abundant amount of rubber cladding the 15-inch steel wheels.

Visibility is superb out of this little car’s big windows, making you feel in control of your surroundings (necessary in the multi-lane confines and tight parking conditions of a city), and ergonomics in the cabin are absolutely on-point with the large touchscreen elements easy to reach and the instruments taking a basic no-nonsense form.

While noise levels are okay at urban speeds, they pick up above 80km/h, making the Rio more unpleasant to drive over long distances than, say, the more upmarket-feeling Yaris.

The Rio does find its place in this price bracket as a fun-to-drive, but predictably rudimentary experience, for the niche audience of drivers seeking an entry-level car who are still able to shift gears themselves.

Sadly, the Rio S misses out on any advanced active safety items. This is one area where city-sized cars are struggling to keep up, as expensive active safety systems tend to push them well into the mid-$20,000 region.

Unlike the mid-range Rio Sport, the S has no auto emergency braking, lane keep assist, or driver attention alert.

It makes do with the more basic array of brake, stability and traction controls, with the addition of a great reversing camera, three top-tether and two ISOFIX child seat mounting points, and six airbags.

The Rio carries a valid five-star ANCAP safety rating, to an earlier 2017 standard before its missing modern active safety items were mandated.

Skoda offers a seven-year/unlimited kilometre warranty on all its cars, which is becoming more common in the industry but is quite competitive for a European brand.

The Fabia is also able to be covered by a seven-year servicing pack for $3650, that being the total price you’d need to pay for the first seven years of servicing (occurring every 12 months or 15,000 kilometres, whichever comes first). In other words $521 per workshop visit.

Skoda also offers 12 months of roadside assistance from the new vehicle warranty start date, and another 12 months is topped up every time you service with Skoda.

The Rio again gets the edge on its budget competition with a lengthy seven-year, unlimited kilometre warranty. In this space it only butts heads with the MG3, which offers a matching promise.

Roadside assist is included for up to eight years if you continue to service with Kia, and there's also a capped price service program for the duration of the warranty, covering up to 105,000km.

The Rio needs to be serviced once every 12 months or 15,000km, and prices range from $269 and $608 per visit, for an annual average of $409.40.

Not the cheapest servicing schedule we’ve seen, particularly when compared with the likes of Toyota.