Citroen C3 Aircross vs Kia Sportage

What's the difference?

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 Sportage still feels like a super solid offering in its segment, plus the addition of more hybrid options is only going to help.

It does feel a little under-specced in the lower grades, though, considering the everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach taken by its Chinese rivals.

I feel like I should almost whisper this bit, given it's a dirty word at the moment, but that diesel engine, it's a real peach, and if I wasn't afraid of being run out of Sydney's inner west with pitchforks, that's probably the one I'd be choosing.

Note: CarsGuide attended this event as a guest of the manufacturer, with meals provided.

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. 

All new Sportage models feature a redesigned front and rear end, but they actually have a slightly different look. There's one look for the cheaper models and then one for the top-spec cars, the SX+ and GT-Line.

The changes aren't overwhelming, though. There are fog lights in the more expensive models, but also just more use of black edging, as opposed to the silver edging that frames the bottom of the grille and rear end in the cheaper cars.

Either way, I still really like the way the Sportage has come together. The front end looks bold and powerful, mostly because of the vertically stacked headlights and and the DRLs that really frame the front end, but they've also done a good job of making a fairly big and spacious SUV feel small and not too imposing.

Now, inside the top-spec cars it’s very modern Kia, with a big twin-screen setup, and the dual-function bar beneath them that handles things like climate control, but also mapping and media and those kinds of functions. The cheaper models also get the same look, but swap the second 12.3-inch screen for a smaller driver display.

It means you don't have to dig through the screen for everything, which is always a nice touch. And I also like some of the materials used in the GT-Line, too, like the synthetic wood grain that’s actually nice to touch.

But there are a couple of key downsides. Not quite so much in the top-spec cars, but in the cheaper versions. I hate those constant reminders that you didn't spring for a more expensive model, and there are plenty of those in the lower-spec cars.

In the more expensive models, there are buttons alongside the gearshift, but in the cheaper cars, those buttons are still there, just blacked out and inactive. And even the cutout for the head-up display still exists in the cheaper cars, but of course, there's no head-up display.

All of that combined with some hard and scratchy plastics front and back makes you really want to dig deep for a more expensive Sportage.

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.

The Sportage measures 4685mm long, 1865mm wide and between 1665mm and 1680mm tall, depending on the trim.

Slip into the backseat of the Sportage and you’ll find legroom is ample, at least for my 175cm frame, and headroom is ok, without being great - though our test car had the sunroof fitted which could be eating into the space.

Elsewhere in the back though, even the top spec GT-Line just doesn't feel that plush. And by that, I mean some of the materials are a bit hard and scratchy, you don’t get your own temperature controls for the air vents, and it generally just lacks a premium air.

Now, to the all-important point in this segment, and that is boot space. The official VDA numbers are 543-1829 litres for the petrol and diesel cars, and 586-1872L for the hybrid, but the real-world reality is a boot that is deep and wide and really has enough space to carry plenty of groceries.

But there is an important caveat. Under the flat floor there is a temporary spare wheel in the hybrids, where in some of the ICE cars, you get a full-size spare wheel.

There are a lot of different numbers involved in the Sportage story. In fact, there are no less than 13 trim and powertrain combinations, and so 13 different prices you can pay. Easier, I think, if I just pop the graphic up on screen and you can jump to the one you want.

While there are four engines and five powertrain configurations to choose from, not all of them are available across all four trim levels. The SX+, for example, offers no electrified options, while the SX will give you hybrids, but no turbo-petrol choice.

The range opens with the S, which gets 17-inch alloys, LED DRLs, power-folding mirrors and roof rails, while inside there are cloth seats, power windows, a smart key with push-button start, and single-zone air-con with rear-seat vents. Tech at this level is handled by a 12.3-inch infotainment screen with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, but no wireless charging, which pairs with a six-speaker stereo. The driver then gets a 4.2-inch screen to deliver driving info.

The SX then adds 18-inch alloy wheels, dual-zone climate, standard navigation and rain-sensing wipers.

The SX+ is feeling like a sweet spot, adding 19-inch alloys, LED fog lights, artificial leather seats that are heated up front, wireless device charging, a heated steering wheel and a better Harman Kardon Premium stereo.

Finally, the flagship GT-Line gets the lot, with 19-inch black alloys, or 18-inch wheels in the hybrid, welcome lights, projection headlights, a twin-screen cabin which adds a second 12.3-inch screen for the driver, a powered driver’s seat and a head-up display.

All models also get Kia Connect, which gives you remote access to the vehicle for things like pre-setting the climate, as well as Over the Air updates.

I’ve got to say, though, the flagship Sportage offers largely what the cheapest version of most Chinese SUVs offer, showing just how much price pressure the newcomers are putting on the old guard.

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.

The big news about this mid-life update for the Sportage is the expansion of Kia’s hybrid powertrain, which is now available with AWD, and the inclusion of an eight-speed automatic for the 1.6-litre turbo-petrol variants.

Elsewhere, the 2.0-litre petrol option produces 115kW and 192Nm, pairs with a six-speed automatic, and drives the front wheels. The other pure petrol option is a 1.6-litre turbocharged petrol unit that produces 132kW and 265Nm, paired with an eight-speed auto and powering all four wheels.

Then comes the diesel, which is a 2.0-litre unit making 137kW and 416Nm. It pairs with an eight-speed automatic and powers all four wheels.

Finally, there’s a hybrid option, now with two- or all-wheel drive. It pairs a 1.6-litre turbo-petrol engine and a six-speed automatic with an electric motor and a 1.49kWh lithium-ion battery to produce a total 173kW and 367Nm.

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.

All pure ICE Sportage grades are fitted with 54-litre fuel tanks, while the hybrids get 52-litre tanks. But the hybrids more than make up for it when it comes to fuel efficiency, with the FWD sipping a claimed 4.9 litres per hundred kilometres on the combined cycle, while the AWD drinks 5.3 litres.

The diesel is the next most-efficient, using a claimed 6.3L/100km combined, while the turbo-petrol needs 7.5 litres, and the 2.0-litre petrol requires 8.1 litres.

Our calculations suggest that, taking the fuel claims at face value, a 2.0-litre petrol Sportage should carry you 666kms on a full tank, while a turbo-petrol will take you 720kms. The diesel should deliver 857kms, while the FWD hybrid (1061kms) and AWD hybrid (981kms) will take you the furthest.

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.

I want to start this with just a small caveat. It hasn't been the most comprehensive drive of this car so far. And remember, there are a lot of variants.

Petrol, diesel, hybrid, two-wheel drive, all-wheel drive – we haven't driven all of them, and so I feel uncomfortable giving you my rock-solid verdict across the whole range. I can, however, give you my first impressions.

The first of those is that whoever in the vast Hyundai group came up with adding a long-hold function to the stereo mute button deserves a medal. By far the most annoying of the modern safety systems is the overspeed warning, which inevitably reads some signs incorrectly, others not at all, and has no idea when school zones actually start.

Thankfully, Kia, like Hyundai, now has the shortcut to mute it. You just long-hold down mute button and voila, the bing-bongs vanish.

Now elsewhere, as is pretty typical of modern Kias, the ride in this car feels properly well sorted. We've taken it through the city, onto the freeway, along a little twisting road section, and on some typically coarse and broken country B-roads, and the Sportage handled them all really well.

And even when you're getting a little frisky with the driving, there's little in the way of body roll, with the Sportage feeling planted and solid.

I wasn't totally blown away with the refinement in the cabin. On the wrong road surface, you definitely get a bit of road noise in the cabin – mind you, that is pretty hard to avoid on the coarse chip stuff – but you can also hear the engines revving away and working hard when you put your foot down.

That said, the way the gearboxes channel that power is smooth and easy, and when you put your foot down in each of the powertrains we tested, there's certainly enough urge to get you up and moving.

And that is especially true in the diesel, which I do think is a bit of a peach of a powertrain – super torquey and super easy to get the Sportage up and moving. It might find itself on the endangered species list, that engine, so get it while you can.

Now, one small downside. While the ride hasn't changed, at least for any of the ICE-powered cars, the steering has changed for all of them, and at speed, it's really lovely. It's quite direct, confidence-inspiring, and nicely weighted.

But at low speeds it can feel a little bit darty, like it takes a really big bite when you put a little input in, and it takes a little bit of getting used to.

All Sportage models start with seven airbags, and even the cheapest S gets a pretty full suite of safety stuff, including a new SOS button should you have an accident, auto emergency braking (AEB) with junction sensing, blind-spot monitoring, lane keep and lane follow assist, a rear-view camera and the often-infuriating speed limit monitoring.

From the SX+ and up you also get Kia’s Highway Driving Assist, which pairs active cruise with a lane entering function, and the GT-Line also gets remote park assist, which allows you to remotely drive into or out of tight spots, along with a blind-spot view monitor and a rear-view monitor.

The Sportage wears a five-star ANCAP rating, which it earned back in 2022.

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.

All Kia models also get the brand’s seven-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, seven years of capped-price servicing and, should you service with Kia, eight years of roadside assistance.

Turbo-petrol and hybrid models require servicing every 12 months or 10,000kms, where the rest are 15,000km intervals. The Kia website has the full costings for each powertrain choice, but for reference, seven years of hybrid ownership will cost you a not-insubstantial $4510.