Kia Rio vs Peugeot 208

What's the difference?

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

This Peugeot is never going to be as cheap as a Mazda2 or Suzuki Swift. The current range spans from $21,990 for the base Active to $26,990 for the GT-Line, and that’s all before on-road costs.

Safe to say you’re looking at a $30k hatch then. For the same money you could be hopping into a decently specified Hyundai i30, Toyota Corolla or Mazda3, but Peugeot bank on the fact that this car appeals to a special kind of customer; the emotional buyer.

Perhaps they had a Peugeot in the past. Perhaps the quirky styling calls out to them. But they aren’t interested in value… per se.

So do you at least get a decent standard spec? The GT-Line comes with a 7.0-inch multimedia touchscreen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto support, built-in sat-nav, 17-inch alloy wheels wrapped in some seriously low-profile Michelin Pilot Sport rubber, panoramic fixed glass roof, dual-zone climate control, self-parking function, front and rear parking sensors with a reversing camera, rain sensing wipers, sports bucket seats, auto folding mirrors and GT-Line specific chrome styling touches.

Not bad. The styling is certainly turned up a notch over the regular 208 range and the spec list makes it one of the better-equipped cars in the segment. However, there are some notable omissions which hurt on a car at this price. For example, there’s no option for push-start or LED headlamps.

Safety is okay, but it could use update. More on that in the safety section.

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 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 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.

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.

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.

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.

On the topic of active cruise, this car is showing its age in the safety department. Available active safety is limited to a camera-based city-speed auto emergency braking system (AEB). The lack of a radar, even optionally, means no active cruise or freeway-speed AEB. There’s also no option for blind-spot monitoring (BSM), lane-departure warning (LDW) or lane-keep assist (LKAS).

Sure, we’re talking about a car which largely dates back to 2012, but you can get cars a full size up with all those features for close to the same money from Korea and Japan.

On the more impressive side, you get an above-average set of six airbags, seatbelt pre-tensioners and rear ISOFIX child-seat mounting points, as well as the expected set of electronic braking and stability aids. A reversing camera is also now standard.

The 208 previously held a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating from 2012, but that rating is limited to four-cylinder variants, which have since been phased out. Three-cylinder cars remain un-rated.

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.

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.