Citroen C3 vs Holden Barina

What's the difference?

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. 

Would I recommend you buy a 2018 Holden Barina? In a word, no. There are better light cars out there for close to the money - cars that are more modern, more sophisticated, more refined, more efficient and better equipped.

At this point in time the Barina still has its place - if you just need a cheap set of wheels, I guarantee you will be able to score a good deal. But if it were me, and it was my money - but I had to buy a Holden - I’d be checking out the slightly smaller Spark (and saving a few bucks in the meantime) or trying to stretch the budget to the larger Astra.

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 Barina isn’t the most intriguing or attractive offering in the segment - that mostly has to do with the fact cars it competes against have changed quite a bit in the six years since the current-gen Holden launched.

There are more attractive rivals, but I think the update in late 2016 was definitely worthwhile. And in high-spec LT guise as you see here - with those stylish 17-inch alloy wheels standing out against the boxy silhouette of the Barina - it’s quite handsome. In fact, the LT for me is an 8/10, and the LS is a 6/10, so I’ve taken the average here.

The changes included new enclosed headlights with LED daytime running lights (DRLs) rather than the old ring-type headlights, a new grille, new front and rear bumpers, and revised tail-lights.

The interior isn’t quite as nice too look at, with loads of hard plastics of varying textures and qualities, while the ‘leather’ on the seats is unconvincing. It is pretty spacious, though..

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 Barina has one of the larger interiors of the segment, thanks in large part to its high roofline. It measures a close-to-its-peers 4039mm long and 1735mm wide, but at 1517mm tall, it isn’t far off compact SUVs.

There is really good headroom front and rear, and the driver’s seat has height adjustment - meaning taller drivers can lower themselves in pretty nicely, but the passenger front seat doesn’t have height adjust, and it sits quite high.

The media system is a 7.0-inch touchscreen with two USB ports (one to connect, one to charge - both located in the top glovebox) and Bluetooth phone and audio streaming - and you get that system in both variants. The screen is supposed to have Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, but when I connected my iPhone it wouldn’t show up the mirroring screen… which was annoying, because there’s no sat nav.

The driver-info display may be a monochrome thing, but it is super handy to have a digital speed readout, and you can keep an eye on other key bits of info, like fuel use.

Back-seat legroom is adequate, but not exceptional - behind my own driving position (I’m 183cm tall) my knees were hard-up against the seat. You could fit two adults in the back pretty comfortably, but three would be hard work. If you tend to transport younger passengers, the dual ISOFIX and three top-tether child-seat anchors will come in handy.

Storage in the back is poor - there is no rear door storage at all, only one map pocket and no fold-down armrest. There’s just a single cup holder in front of the middle seat.

Up front there are two cupholders between the seats, and there are large pockets in the doors but they aren’t formed to hold bottles, so your fizzy might go flat from shifting around. The dashboard console is quite small, and there’s no covered armrest between the seats - but the driver gets a van-style armrest.

The biggest issue I have with the cabin is that the steering wheel is huge - like, it’s the same one used in the old Commodore, and it’s way too large for the Barina’s cabin - and the gear-shifter is oversized, too. Smaller features would make for a more spacious cockpit, and it’s a bit too easy to accidentally put it all the way down into M for manual mode, rather than D.

The boot of the Barina is fairly good for its size at 290 litres (VDA), and that expands to 653L with the back seats folded down in 60/40 formation - it’s a good cargo hold, albeit with a large, deep load lip, and there’s a space-saver spare under the floor.

There are some other little things that are good: the fact the electric windows have auto-down (and auto-up on the fronts). And some things that aren’t: the masses of hard, cheap-feeling plastics; the knobs and dials that don’t feel great to turn; and the seats are pretty uncomfortable.

Holden will push to get a deal done when you’re in the showroom and ready to spend - so make sure you keep that in mind if you’re shopping for a Barina.

The entry-level LS Barina has a list price of $14,990 plus on-road costs for the manual, or $17,190 plus on-roads for the automatic. But realistically, you should be able to bargain and pay $15k drive-away for the manual and $17k drive-away for the auto - or maybe less: I’ve seen dealers listing LS autos at $15k drive-away. And Holden is also promoting a free servicing plan for three years.

The same can be said of the LT automatic tested here, which has a list price of $20,390 plus on-road costs. I wouldn’t expect to shell out more than $19k on the road for this spec, because sales are hard to come by in this part of the market - especially when you can potentially get a bigger and better Astra for similar cash.

Let’s look at what each version of the Barina has in terms of standard specifications.

The LS has 16-inch alloy wheels, auto halogen headlights with LED daytime running lights, a 7.0-inch colour touchscreen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto (supposedly!), plus a reversing camera and rear parking sensors.

The LT model trades up to 17-inch alloy wheels, plus it adds keyless entry and push-button start, a leather-lined steering wheel, 'Sportec' fake leather trim and heated front seats.

Things you can’t get in the Barina? Sat nav, climate control, actual leather trim, rear-seat air-vents, LED headlights, auto wipers, digital radio, head-up display...

There are six different hues to choose from, and only 'Summit White' is included at no cost. The other options - 'Nitrate Silver', 'Boracay Blue', 'Absolute Red', 'Son of a Gun Grey' and 'Mineral Black' - will cost you an additional $550.

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.

Powering the Barina is a 1.6-litre four-cylinder petrol engine, which produces 85kW of power and 155Nm of torque. There’s the choice of a five-speed manual or six-speed automatic, and the Barina is front-wheel drive.

The outputs of the engine are decent for the class, but the weight of the Barina - a porky 1248kg - means it doesn’t feel as sprightly as some competitors, many of which are below 1100kg.

There is no high-performance model - the Barina RS that came out in 2013 lasted a few years, but was axed in 2016.

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.

Because the Barina doesn’t have a downsized turbo engine like some rivals, it is claimed to use a relatively high 7.2 litres per 100 kilometres for the manual model (LS only), while the auto version (in LS and LT guise) is said use even more, at 7.5L/100km.

Over our time with the car, we saw 8.8L/100km, which isn’t terrific for such a small car. A Mazda 2 has claimed fuel use as low as 4.9L/100km, and it doesn’t use a downsized turbo engine, either.

At the very least the fact the Barina can run on regular unleaded (91RON) means filling up will be a little cheaper.

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.

There are elements of the drive experience in the Barina that are fine, but not one part of it sets a benchmark for the segment. And in a class where almost every car is at least a little bit fun to drive - think the Mazda 2, Skoda Fabia, Volkswagen Polo, Ford Fiesta, Kia Rio, Peugeot 208, Suzuki Swift... I could keep going, but I'd prefer to drive any of those every day. Heck, even a Toyota Yaris or Hyundai Accent excites me more than this.

If all you do is potter from home to work, or home to the train station, there’s a good chance this will be fine as your means of conveyance. But if you’re the sort of person who wants a car they can enjoy, the Barina mightn’t be for you.

The LT model with its larger wheels may look pretty good, but the ride is fouled by those rims. And while the grip from the Continental ContiPremiumContact 2 tyres is genuinely good, the steering can be slow and heavy at times, and there’s a lot of road noise on coarse-chip surfaces.

Those wheels are nice and might be acceptable in a sporty hatch, but the performance doesn’t match up - the 1.6-litre engine is a little bit gutless at times, with its lack of torque meaning the six-speed automatic transmission is quite busy shuffling through the gears. That’s not unusual in this class, but the engine isn’t very refined, and can get trashy at high revs.

The transmission is not only busy, but it can be clunky when shifting, too - I noticed a few times when it was going between second and third gears.

The fact the Barina is still marked with a five-star ANCAP stamp is potentially a bit misleading - the car was tested way back in 2011 for 2012 models onwards, and the strictness of testing has changed markedly over that period.

As a result, the Barina range still features the must-have inclusions you would expect - a reversing camera, rear parking sensors, and six airbags.

But in a world where auto emergency braking (AEB) can be had in cars from just $14,190 (the Kia Picanto), the Barina lacks that latest tech. No Barina can be had with AEB, even as an option, and you can forget lane-keeping assist, blind-spot monitoring or any of those other nice technologies that could prove life-saving. It’s a ‘no’ for front sensors as well.

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!

Holden has rolled back that limited-time seven-year warranty, with the standard old three-year/100,000km plan in place once more. There is the option of extended warranty, with up to six years/175,000km available.

Holden requires the Barina to be serviced every nine months or 15,000km, which is reasonably lenient - some competitors require maintenance visits every six months/10,000km.

The costs are covered by Holden’s 'Know Your Cost Servicing' plan, with the first and second services priced at $249, the third and fourth at $349, while the fifth drops back to $249. No matter which way you look at it, it’s more affordable than a lot of competitors.