Citroen C3 vs Lamborghini Aventador

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. 

The Aventador isn't the best car you can buy for the money and truth be told, it isn't the best Lamborghini, which is a bit tough when you remember the only other car they make at the moment is the V10 Huracan. But it's all about the theatre as much as being a very capable supercar. 

I'm not a Lamborghini fanboy, but I completely get the Aventador. It's a because-we-can car, just like the Murcielago, Diablo and Countach before it. But unlike those cars, it's thoroughly modern and with the upgrades introduced to the S, it's faster, harder and enormously entertaining. 

As the last of a dying breed it delivers on everything a Lamborghini should - amazing looks, nutty price tag and an engine that excites not just driver and passenger but anyone with a heartbeat. It's by far the most charismatic car you can buy, no matter how many zeroes are on the cheque.

Photography by Rhys Vanderside

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.  

Asking if there's anything interesting about a Lamborghini design is kind of like asking if the sun is warm.

While there are some geese out there in the corners of the internet who think Audi has ruined Lamborghini styling, there is absolutely nothing shy about the Aventador. It's an incredible looking machine and, if I may say so, shouldn't be had in black because you miss a lot of the madder details.

This car is all about the experience.

It might look close to the deck in the photos, but however low you think it is, it's lower. The roofline barely makes it to the bottom of a Mazda CX-5's windows - you need your wits about you in this car because people just don't see you.

It is absolutely spectacular - people stop and point, one chap sprinted an easy 200 metres to take a photo of it in the Sydney CBD. Hello, if you're reading.

Inside is pretty tight indeed. It's amazing to think that a car 4.8 metres long (a Hyundai Santa Fe is 4.7 metres) struggles to contain two people over six feet tall. My six foot two photographer's head left an impression in the headlining. It's a tiny cabin. It's not a bad one though, it even has a cupholder on the rear bulkhead behind the seats.

The centre console is covered in Audi-based switchgear and is all the better for it, even if it is starting to look a bit old (those bits are from a pre-facelift B8 A4). The alloy gearshift paddles are fixed to the column and are brilliant to look at and touch, while the digital dashboard - which changes with the driving mode - is fantastic even if the reversing camera is awful.

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.

Yes, well. There's not a lot of space because a V12 is not just big all on its own, all the ancillaries to support it rob a lot of the remaining space. Having said that, there's room in the front for soft bags with a 180-litre front boot, space for two people inside, a cupholder and a glove box.

And the doors open up into the sky rather than out like a normal car's. Who cares if it's impractical, it's hardly something that's going to stop someone buying one.

As with any Italian supercar, the price-to-feature ratio is rather higher than your average humdrum hatchback. A 'naked' Aventador S starts at a horse-spooking $789,425 and basically has no direct competition. Ferrari's F12 is front-mid engined and any other V12 is either a decidedly different Rolls Royce-type machine or super-expensive niche manufacturer (yes, niche compared to Lamborghini) like Pagani. They're a rare very breed, Lambo knows it, and here we are a sneeze-on-the-spec sheet away from $800,000.

So you have to keep two things in mind when rating a car's value for money at this level. The first is that there isn't any real rival in a pure sense, and if there was, it would be the same price and have the same spec. That's not excusing it, by the way, it's an explanation.

Anyway.

For your eight hundy you get 20-inch front wheels and 21-inch rears, climate control, cruise control, 7.0-inch screen (backed by an older version of Audi's MMI), four-speaker stereo with Bluetooth and USB, car cover, bi-xenon headlights, carbon ceramic brakes, electric seats, windows and mirrors, leather trim, sat nav, keyless entry and start, four-wheel steering, leather trim, digital dashboard, power folding and heated mirrors, active rear wing and active suspension.

The number of out-of-the-box options is staggering and if you're keen to really get on it, you can commission your own options when it comes to trim and paint and wheels. Let's just say that as far as the interior went, our car had almost $29,000 of Alcantara, steering wheel and yellow. The telemetry system, heated seats, some extra branding and front and reversing camera (uh-huh) added up to $24,000, the cameras almost half that total.

With all the bits and bobs, the test car we had was a sobering $910,825 before on-roads.

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.

The Aventador S is powered by Automobili Lamborghini's 6.5-litre V12. You know it's a V12 because there's a plate on top of the engine (which you can see through the optional glass cover) that says so, and handily, tells you the cylinder firing order. That's a neat touch.

Buried deep in the middle of the car, this monster engine develops an astonishing 544kW (30kW up on the standard Aventador) and 690Nm. Its dry sump means the engine sits lower in the car. The gearbox is slung across the back between the rear wheels - the rear pushrod suspension actually sits on top of and across the gearbox - and is apparently brand new.

The transmission is known as an ISR (Independent Shift Rod) and has seven forward speeds and still just the one clutch. Power goes through all four wheels to the road, but it's clear the rears get the lion's share.

The 0-100km/h time is the same as the standard car, which kind of tells you that 2.9 seconds is about as quick as you can go on road tyres when you don't have four electric motors with torque from zero rpm.

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.

Hilariously, the official figure is 16.9L/100km. I doubled it without trying. Simple as that. If you're buying this car thinking it will be easy on the juice, you're insane.

Cheeringly, Lambo has at least tried, the V12 going silent when you sit at the lights, the best thing being the way it bursts back into life when you lift off the brake.

If you have the time available, it takes 90 litres of premium unleaded to fill the tank.

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.

In Strada or Street mode, awful. Everything is slow and doughy, particularly the gearshift which goes looking for a gear like dog looking for a stick you didn't throw, but instead hid behind your back. The low-speed ride is nothing less than terrible, fidgeting over every single lump and bump and is only slightly more appealing than being dragged along behind.

The gearbox is really the worst bit about it. Automotive history is littered with cars that laboured along with a single clutch semi-auto: Alfa Romeo 156, BMW's E60 M5 and today the Citroen Cactus is stuck with just such a dud transmission.

Like that old M5, however, there's a trick to making the gearbox work for you - show absolutely no mercy.

Switch the selector up to Sport, get off the highway or major arterial road and head for the hills. Or better still, a clear race track. Then the Aventador goes from a pain in the rear to a glorious, roaring, completely unhinged and unhinging battle cruiser. This car is all about the experience, from the second you lay eyes on it to the moment you put it to bed.

This isn't an everyday supercar and it's absurd to think Lamborghini thinks it is.

First up, there's the obvious entry point with those wacky doors. While it's tricky to get in, if you're under six feet and reasonably mobile, stick your backside in, keep your head down and you're in. If you've been clever, you've specified the glass engine cover so you can see out the back but the huge wing mirrors are surprisingly effective.

Has someone thoughtlessly parked the car in a tight spot? No trouble, the four wheel steer makes the car absurdly manoeuvrable given its extravagant length and width.

As we've already established, it's not much fun at low speeds, waiting until about 70km/h before things start to make a bit more sense. This isn't an everyday supercar and it's absurd to think Lamborghini thinks it is. It just isn't.

The old Aventador was not the most capable of machines but made up for it with its overall belligerence. The new S takes that aggro and dials it up. When you move the drive mode to Sport you are basically unleashing hell. You can pretend to be super-masculine and switch to Corsa (race) mode, but it's all about getting the car straight and getting you around the track in the most efficient way possible. Sport is where it's at if you want to have fun.

The Aventador is about being seen, but not before you've been heard - from two postcodes away. It really is utterly glorious when you have a stretch of road to yourself. The V12 revs furiously to its 8400rpm redline and the wallop of the upshift is accompanied with a fantastic bark and a burst of blue flame. And these aren't the best bits.

Approach a corner, stomp on the colossal carbon ceramic brakes and the exhaust erupts in a combination of bangs and pops and growls that puts a smile on even the most hardened car-hater's face. The fact it steers into corners with just a demure roll of the wrist, aided and abetted by that funky four-wheel steering system. It's just brilliant, addictive and truth be told, it gets under your skin.

The Aventador doesn't have an ANCAP safety rating but the carbon chassis also comes with four airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls.

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!

In an unexpected twist, you'll get a three-year/100,000km warranty and the option to increase to four years ($11,600!) or five years ($22,200!)(!). Having recovered from typing that, given the cost of something going wrong, that's probably money well-spent.