Audi A3 vs Renault Clio

What's the difference?

Closing in on $60,000 for a small car isn’t cheap. Ask a car dealer and they might even say the hatchback is a good way to get someone into a showroom to eventually look at an SUV.

But I reckon you’d be doing the A3 a disservice to count it out. It’s always been one of those cars that does everything well, and with this current facelift manages to keep its practicality without becoming boring.

It looks good on the outside, it’s smart on the inside and it’s fun to drive while remaining sensible. Even if you get it in bright yellow.

The Clio RS is still a ton of fun and in Cup spec, probably the best compromise between price and livability. Despite its advancing years (it turns five this year, so ready to start kindy) and big brother Megane hogging the limelight with a fancy new model on the way, the Clio is a stayer. It's missing some frustratingly obvious things like CarPlay, AEB, rear airbags and rear cross-traffic alert, but it's hardly alone in the segment. 

With the departure of the Fiesta ST, though, the Clio returns to the top of the list of best small hot hatches on sale today.

Eye of the beholder and all that, sure, but the A3 looks cool from the outside. It’s got this angular design but manages it without being too aggressive or busy with other design elements, so it still has a ‘premium Euro’ feel to it.

Shooting pics of the car for this review, the harsh light accentuated its sharp lines. It looks sculptural rather than just some little blob. 

At the same time, thanks to the proliferation of sports design packs like the S Line, The A3 looks like it could be an S3, almost. Which makes sense, because the front bumper and rear diffuser as well as the roof spoiler are all partly inspired by RS models.

New for the A3 is the flat, 2D Audi badge, the model name on the B pillar and the new font for its name on the tailgate. 

The lights in the cluster are able to look narrower than before thanks to their customisable settings, which allow you to choose the light signature, while the grille has a flatter appearance and the air intakes are bigger. Even the wheels look like they’re from a sports car.

Whether you’d have the A3 in the Python Yellow of our test car is another thing. I don’t mind a loud colour but I reckon a bit of 'District Green', 'Ascari Blue' or 'Progressive Red' would be the vibe.

Also, any colour that isn’t white is a cost-option on the A3, all of them coming in at $1350, except Ascari Blue which is an Audi Sport colour and costs $1850.

Speaking of the vibe, inside the A3 feels properly nice. It’s not just a spruced up Golf in there. There’s proper Audi character to the car, though that means plenty of piano black trim to get smudgy.

Audi’s done a good job making the layout look sleek without resorting to locating all the controls in the screen. There are design elements in the cabin that aren't strictly necessary but are worth doing for the way they look.

Things like the way the vents flank the driver display or the trim inlay on the passenger side of the dash.

The Clio is a handsome small car but nothing out of the ordinary until you apply the very cool Liquid Yellow paint. That hue really is quite something and works even better with the black alloys of the Cup chassis.

The car has some lovely surfacing and in a recent-ish refresh, the slightly odd headlights were reworked, as were the front and rear bumpers which now link to the RenaultSport Megane. Sorry, Megane RS. The RS flag signature lighting is a nice touch, acting as DRLs at the bottom corners of the front bumper.

The lovely organic shapes of the Clio's sides still look good and the rather tough rear end with the chunky diffuser leaves you in no doubt that it's the proper RS not the halfway-house, 1.2-litre GT-Line.

Inside is starting to look its age, but graceful, a bit like Jamie-Lee Curtis' or George Clooney's embrace of grey hair. There are still some of the sharp edges I didn't like. It's certainly a Renault to look at and ergonomically works pretty well. One thing that has been fixed at some point is the switch on the gear selector - it won't bite you if you curl your finger underneath when you press it. You might think that's a small thing, but when you did it, damn it hurt.

Starting from what’s right in front of you as a driver, the steering wheel is the same as in bigger, more expensive Audis. That’s a good thing, because it’s nice to hold, has a good shape for the nine-and-three hand position and it’s not too thick. 

As well as the nice, clear buttons on the wheel, you’ve got some physical controls for the climate control and some of the vehicle functions like parking assist and stop-start under the multimedia screen.

For a car this size, the 10.1-inch central touchscreen is plenty big enough, and the fact it doesn't sit up high over the dash is great. It's like a perfect arm's length for your standard-sized adult (like me). I can reach the other side of the screen without needing to lean.

The fact there’s no head-up display is a bit of a let-down, but the now-standard 12.3-inch driver display is very good. It’s configurable yet clear, and means you can get detailed navigation information in front of you rather than having to look to the multimedia screen. 

The test A3 has genuine leather upholstery, which is $1100 extra. Not the most you’d pay for leather seats in a Euro, and the seats are comfortable. They're nicely bolstered, the drivers’ side is electrically adjustable and the leather doesn’t feel hard or rough to the touch.

Sitting behind my own seating position in the second row is a little tight, however. At 178cm, my knees almost touch the seat in front. There's also no sunroof, and even though there's just about enough light, that omission doesn’t help the cramped feeling.

There are, like the front, two USB-C ports and the air vents in the back, the latter separately adjustable to avoid arguments, though the cupholders in the armrest are in an awkwardly central position.

Behind that, under the 380-litre boot's floor is a space-saver spare tyre. That's better than some SUVs designed for family adventures that only offer up an inflator/repair kit. Keep that up, Audi. Good job. Well done. 

If you fold the rear seats, you get 1200 litres of space. Interestingly, those luggage space figures are the same as the BMW 1 Series.

The Clio's interior is certainly snug. Rear seat passengers do okay for legroom but headroom is a mite marginal with the falling roofline for six footers. There are no cupholders out back, that curious French habit of supplying just a couple of cup receptacles of different and weird sizes persists. The front doors have space for bottles, the rears do not.

The boot is class-competitive at 300 litres (worth knowing the Trophy loses 70 litres to the Cup) and with the seats down stretches to a claimed 1146L.

The iconic 'Liquid Yellow' ($750 option) Clio I had for the week was the Cup spec chassis. The Clio RS 200, as it is officially known, comes in two specs - Sport and Cup - and there's a Trophy 220 at the top of the range. I had the Cup, which retails at $32,490 (plus on-road costs). The RS220 Trophy, with a bit more poke and stuff, weighs in at $38,990 if you're interested.

The Cup spec is heavily based on the more affordable ($30,990) Sport, which means you get 18-inch alloy wheels (painted black, so watch those kerbs), climate control, four speaker stereo, keyless entry and start (the "key" is still that unwieldy keycard style thing), reversing camera, cruise control, front and rear parking sensors, fog lamps, LED daytime running lights, sat nav, auto LED headlights, auto wipers, launch control, leather bits and pieces and a tyre inflation kit instead of any kind of spare.

The 7.0-inch 'R-Link' touch screen software runs the four speaker stereo with DAB digital radio, Bluetooth and USB. If you get the optional RS Monitor, there is a full-on telemetry system from which you can save your, er, "track day" data and overlay in Google Maps to compare with your mates' or past efforts. You can also change the piped-in engine sound to various different sound effects which are delightfully silly.

Android Auto is part of the breathtaking $1500 'Entertainment Pack' option that includes RS Monitor (which used to be standard) and no, there's no Apple CarPlay. Leather is a further $1500.

Bottom line is that you do get a decent spec bump from the $30,990 Sport along with the more capable (and less comfortable) Cup chassis.

The A3 is powered by a 1.5-litre, turbocharged four-cylinder petrol engine that makes 110kW and 250Nm.

It drives the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch auto transmission and it can hit 100km/h in a claimed 8.1 seconds.

It’s also got a 48-volt mild hybrid system to help with efficiency, though you’d need to be told about it to notice. It also helps with the A3’s (smooth) stop-start system.

The 200-equipped RSes pony up 147kW/260Nm, which is pretty much bang-on the obvious competition (Peugeot 208 GTI and the outgoing Fiesta ST), driving the front wheels through Renault's six-speed EDC twin-clutch. Unlike those two, there is no overboost function.

Dieppe's finest sprints from 0-100km/h in a claimed 6.7 seconds, pulling along a kerb weight of 1204kg.

The A3’s 50-litre fuel tank needs to be filled with RON 95 premium fuel and it’ll drink a claimed 5.3-litres per 100km on the combined (urban/extra-urban) cycle.

Theoretically you’re topping 900km a tank there, but given how fun this car is to drive you’d have to be well behaved to get even close.

For reference, whenever I was on a normal, day-to-day drive on test the A3's trip computer was returning figures in the mid to high sixes.

Renault claims 5.9L/100km on the combined cycle but, yeah, nah. My week was admittedly filled with plenty of horseplay and spirited driving, yielding 11.4L/100km. If you were careful you may fare better - but not that much better.

The fuel tank is a fairly standard 45 litres. It requires 98RON premium unleaded.

First things first, the A3’s exterior and S Line pack are a clue to the way the car drives. It’s probably not the perfect car if you like a cushy, soft ride. 

Its suspension errs towards the stiffer side of things, and certain bumps can feel more significant than they need to. But even on particularly bad roads or tram tracks in the city the dampers do a decent job of soaking up the harsh stuff.

It also means there’s more road noise than you’d like on some older highway surfaces, but only in a way that might get annoying if you’re on a road trip with the stereo off for some reason.

The upside of that is its steering feels well weighted and accurate. Plus, the way it handles and corners feels like a bit more grunt would make this a proper driver's car.

It’s not too intense, and there’s enough feedback to make it feel like the A3 shouldn't be a city-dweller only when it comes to driving.

Of course, it’s a hatchback, so you've got the advantages that come with less weight and a lower centre of gravity. 

It doesn’t have enough weight to push into understeer more than you’d like on a tight corner. But it also doesn’t feel so light that you’re not sure how it’s going to behave under sharp braking.

The A3’s drivetrain, despite looking underwhelming on paper, feels practical on the road. Sure, 110kW isn't anything wicked, but its 250Nm feel like they’re working in the right places - that being between 1500 and 3500rpm. 

It isn't blisteringly quick but even with the seven-speed transmission operating in default auto mode it usually feels like it's in the right place, let alone chipping in with 'manual' shifts via the paddles or shifting drive modes. The A3 has a choice of 'Normal' and 'Sport' shift settings.

You might be a little disappointed if you thought you’d be getting anything approaching a hot hatch, but for an entry-level model the A3 more than holds its own. It’s a solid platform that performs well without compromising too much when it comes to daily driving ability.

The RS has always had a belter of a chassis. The Cup chassis became a thing just over a decade ago and is lauded by the fans as The One To Have. I've not always been convinced of this as my earlier drives of the Cup-equipped machines have usually been in close proximity to the Sport chassis. 

The Cup is slightly lower than the Sport, with 15 per cent stiffer springs and dampers and perhaps more importantly it scores 18-inch wheels with Dunlop Sport Maxx RT2 tyres, which you can reasonably expect to be a bit firmer than the 17s with Goodyear F1s on the Sport. And they are.

However, in most situations, the Cup chassis is perfectly benign. You certainly feel the bumps and lumps, but you haven't bought a Cup chassis for Lexus-like isolation. It's certainly sharper than the Sport chassis and when you're really giving it a go around the bends, the comfort deficit is more than made up for by the extra grip and poise.

The RS has always had a belter of a chassis.

The chassis is aided and abetted by a torquey 1.6-turbo that cheerfully...no, gleefully spins to the redline which could do with another thousand revs, but that's forced induction for you. The aluminium shift paddles need a good positive pull to get a gear, but that gear is delivered quickly and effortlessly. The Clio is a great deal of fun in Sport and Race modes, with throttle mappings and gearshifts becoming more aggressive as you switch through the modes.

The brakes are tremendously effective and the electronic limited slip diff (*cough* brake-based torque vectoring) ensures you'll hit your apexes and the tyres spend more time gripping than spinning.

But it's not all hairpins and off-camber left-right-lefts, is it? Plenty of owners have to live with the car in traffic day to day. Driving the Cup in isolation, I've changed my mind about it. I reckon it's the best of the two chassis settings. The city ride is better than decent, with the hard edges potholes chamfered off by the dampers and decent compliance. It's not too noisy, either.

On board the Clio is four airbags (no curtain coverage for those in the rear), ABS, stability and traction controls, a reversing camera and two ISOFIX points along with three top-tether anchors.

The Clio was awarded a five-star ANCAP rating in November 2013.

Audi offers a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty, which is about par for a premium brand, but it also offers five years' free roadside assist and the ability to pay to extend the warranty.

Servicing is $2520 for a five year plan, but the extended two years of 'Audi Advantage' warranty is $3250 and comes with unlimited kilometres, roadside assist and covers two services.

Renault says it was the first European maker to offer a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty in Australia, and who are we to argue? The package also includes up to four years of roadside assist and three years of capped-price servicing.

Renault expects to see you just once a year or every 20,000km, which gives you a bit more headroom than some similar service plans, at least on the mileage.  The first three services will cost no more than $369 unless you need a new air filter ($38) or pollen filter ($46). At 60,000km or four years you'll cop $262 for a set of spark plugs. The company's website also suggests if the Clio doesn't like the state of its oil, it will beep at you until you have that attended to.