Citroen Grand C4 Picasso vs Citroen C3 Aircross

What's the difference?

The lack of third-row airbags and AEB could be enough for you to rule this version of the Citroen Grand C4 Picasso out of contention as a family vehicle. We’d understand that.

But there are plenty of other reasons that it could be a contender on your people-mover shopping list. It’s a largely thoughtful car in a small and beautiful package… no matter what badge is stuck on the back of it.

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.

If you were to suggest there isn’t anything interesting about the design of the Citroen Grand C4 Picasso, it would pretty much intone that you’re vision impaired. This is - without question - one of the most intriguing and interesting looking vehicles on the market today.

With its front-end design mirroring the other models in the French maker’s range - sleek LED daytime running lights sitting either side of a chrome grille with central chevron, the main headlights below and some chrome trimming on the lower bumper - this is easily distinguishable as a Citroen. There’s no confusing it with a Kia, Honda, or anything else, in fact.

The large windscreen and panoramic sunroof help give it that two-tone look, and the beautiful silver C-shaped rim that surrounds the glasshouse is one of the best styling touches in the automotive business.

Our car rides on the standard 17-inch wheels wrapped in grippy Michelin tyres, but there are optional 18s if you want something that fills the wheelarches a little more. 

At the rear there are some nicely styled tail-lights, and its hips are broad, giving it a nice amount of presence on the road when you’re sitting behind it in traffic. 

I think Spacetourer works better as a name: Picasso was known for artworks that were challenging to make sense of. This vehicle presents no such conundrum.

The interior is also one of the most stunning in the business: I love the two-tone dashboard, the stacked twin screen layout, the minimalism of the controls and the massive windscreen with innovative adjustable headlining - yes, you can move the front part of the headlining back and forth, and the sun-visors move with it.

Our car had the optional 'Leather Lounge' pack, which adds dual-tone hide trim, seat massage functions for both front seats, plus heating for both front seats, and the front passenger seat has an electrically operated leg/footrest. This interior trim is nice, but it comes at a price… ahem, a big price: $5000. 

As you might expect, that’s hard to justify if you’re trying to save money on your seven-seat people-mover. But ignore that: let’s take a deeper dive into the cabin.

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. 

It’s kind of amazing just how much Citroen has managed to fit into the Grand C4 Picasso. It measures 4602mm long - which is just 22mm (an inch) longer than a Mazda3 sedan! As for the other dimensions, the width is 1826mm, and the height is 1644mm.

How many seats does the Citroen Picasso have? The answer is seven, whether you choose the petrol or the diesel - but notably, the petrol model has a space-saver spare wheel under its boot, where the diesel misses out because it has an AdBlue system. 

Yep, by some marvel of packaging magic, the brand’s engineers managed to pack seven seats, a reasonable boot (165 litres with all seats up, 693L with the back row folded, 2181 with the five rear seats folded), plus a spare tyre and a lot of style into a very compact package.

That’s not to say this is a seven-seater to suit all the needs of buyers who want seven seats. The back row is tight for anyone nearing 183cm (six-feet) tall, and there is no third-row airbag coverage. According to the French brand, the occupants of those rearmost seats are inwards enough of the sides of the car that they theoretically shouldn’t need airbag cover. Depending on your safety stance, that may rule it out for you - or perhaps make you change your mind as to whether you use the back row regularly or not. 

Even so, there’s a huge amount of practicality to the cabin. You can fold the third-row seats and stow them away under the boot floor, or if you need to use them there are vents as well as a fan speed controller and a set of rear reading lights. The boot also has a light that doubles as a flashlight, and there’s a 12-volt outlet. There is one shallow cupholder and two small storage boxes on top of the wheel-arches.

In the second row the seats are also individually operable, with all three sliding and/or folding as required. The outboard seats also have a clever seat base flip-up function, allowing them to move all the way forward for easier third-row access. 

The space in the second row is easily good enough for three adults to slot across, though the roof-mounted middle seatbelt is a bit annoying. There are air-vents with fan controls mounted in the B-pillars, and the front seat-backs have clever flip-down tables with lighting, and there are mesh map pockets below. There is another 12-volt outlet, a pair of slim door pockets (not big enough for bottles), but no cupholders.

The front cabin is better sorted for storage of odds and ends - there is a pair of (small, shallow) cupholders between the seats, an enormous central console box that’s easily copious enough for phones, wallets, keys and the like, plus another storage area near where you plug in your USB/auxiliary device. The way the owners manual/logbook slots under the steering wheel is neat, and the glove box is fine, too, plus there are reasonably good sized door pockets, but again they lack sculpted bottle holsters.

One little issue I had was with the steering adjustment toggle - it’s quite springy… so much so that it sprung back and hurt my finger every time I adjusted it. That mightn’t be an issue if you’re the sole driver, but it’s worth noting.

As striking as the lovely leather trim is, the dashboard design is what I love most about this car. There’s a huge 12.0-inch high-definition top screen that shows you an enormous digital speed readout, plus you can have it show you the mapping and sat nav, or the car’s vital measures, or see where your car is positioned by way of the standard-fit 360-degree camera.

The lower 7.0-inch touchscreen is where the action happens: it’s your point of control for the media system, including Apple CarPlay and Android Auto smartphone mirroring, the dual-zone climate controls, car settings, and phone. There are supplementary volume and track controls, plus the steering wheel has things sorted pretty well in terms of ergonomics, too.

Okay, to clarify: I love this set up to a degree. I don’t like that the air conditioning controls (apart from de-mist for front and rear windscreens) are all within the lower screen, which means - on a really hot day, for instance - you have to fumble through menus and tap the screen repeatedly, rather than just turn a dial or two. Every sweaty second counts when it’s 40-degrees-plus outside.

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.

A perennial Citroen problem is the price - at $32,990, the tiny SUV is doing battle with cars that are really a size up, coming in closer in size to the Venue than, say, the ASX.

That Yaris Hybrid price (we're all still reeling from that number) scores you a 17-inch alloys, a six-speaker stereo, climate control, front camera, reversing camera, keyless entry and start, front and rear parking sensors, cruise control, sat nav, halogen headlights (yep, you read that right), head-up display, leather wheel and shifter, auto parking, auto wipers and headlights, wireless charging pad and a space-saver spare.

The central touchscreen is annoying in that there are almost no hardware switches for functions like climate control. The software is a bit on the slow side, too, but you do get Android Auto and Apple CarPlay. The stereo is fine.

Under the bonnet is a 1.6-litre petrol four-cylinder turbo unit producing 121kW of power (at 6000rpm) and 240Nm of torque (at a low 1400rpm). If you think about what other seven-seat people-movers have, that’s only okay - for instance, the cheaper LDV G10 people mover has 165kW/330Nm.

The Citroen may have a smaller engine capacity and outputs, but it’s also quite light - it weighs 1505kg (kerb weight) because it’s so small. The LDV, by contrast, weighs 2057kg. In short, it punches at, but not really beyond, its weight.

The Grand C4 Picasso is front-wheel drive, and uses a six-speed automatic transmission with a manual mode and paddle-shifters… yes, that seems unnecessary. The shifter is up on the steering column, which is an ingenious use of space, but the fact it has a dedicated manual mode means you may often choose M rather than D, particularly if you’re in a hurry.

If you plan to do a lot of towing, this isn’t the car for you. The claimed towing capacity is 600 kilograms for a trailer without brakes, or just 800kg for a braked trailer. The diesel is a better bet if that matters to you, with a 750kg un-braked/1300kg braked rating… though that’s still below average compared to some similarly priced petrol seven-seat SUVs like the Mitsubishi Outlander (750kg/1600kg), LDV D90 (750kg/2000kg) or Nissan X-Trail (750kg/1500kg).

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 claimed fuel use for the Grand C4 Picasso petrol model is just 6.4 litres per 100 kilometres, which is rather impressive. It requires 95RON premium unleaded, meaning the cost at the pump can be markedly higher than regular 91RON. 

In the real world, a lot of turbocharged cars tend to be thirstier than the claim suggests, but we saw a relatively decent 8.6L/100km during our time in the Grand C4 Picasso. 

By comparison, the diesel is said to use a miserly 4.5L (17-inch wheels) or 4.6L (18s). 

Let’s do some maths: the average cost per 1000km, based on claimed fuel usage, works out to $65 for the diesel and $102 for the petrol, and you’ll get about 40 per cent more distance per tank out of the diesel, and typically diesel is cheaper. But even so, the extra $6000 outlay on the initial purchase of the diesel will still take plenty of mileage before you break even.

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.

I’ve mentioned the word ‘charm’ already in this review, and the adjective to describe what I think about the drive experience is ‘charming’.

I love it.

It has that French suspension set-up that just doesn’t get bothered by sharp bumps because it has been tuned to deal with cobblestone alleyways. It rides beautifully at high and low speeds, loping over speed humps with ease, cosseting those in the cabin from the surface below.

It’s also tremendously quiet, with hardly any road noise intrusion in the cabin compared to the vast majority of cars out there. The coarse-chip surfaces of the M4 in Western Sydney usually offer up an ear-bashing, but not here.

The 1.6-litre engine is perky enough.

The steering is like that of a hatchback, with a tight (10.8m) turning circle enabling you to pivot on yourself more readily than you might think. The steering is also quite enjoyable if you like to drive, but don’t push too hard - understeer is an imminent threat, though the grip on offer is quite good.

The 1.6-litre engine is perky enough, and responds well both in stop-start traffic and on the highway - but there is no doubt about it, the 2.0-litre turbo diesel model’s 370Nm of torque makes for motoring with a lot less effort and strain. Not that the engine in the petrol model feels like it can’t get the job done - it just feels like it could do with a little more pulling power… Again, not enough to rule it out of contention, because it’s nicely refined. 

The six-speed automatic is geared towards efficiency, which means that you might find it in third gear before a hill and somewhat hesitant to drop back a gear to gather more pace. I didn’t find this too annoying, but it did help me finally understand why the manual shift and paddles are fitted.  

On the whole, there is a lot to like about this: it’s a family-focused car with family-focused dynamics on all fronts. 

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.

Along with six airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls, the Aircross has low-speed AEB (up to 30km/h), blind-spot monitoring, lane departure warning, driver attention monitoring and speed sign recognition.

Three top tether anchors and two ISOFIX points complete the picture with a five-star Euro NCAP rating dating back to 2017. There is no corresponding ANCAP score, despite the agreement between the two agencies.

Citroen has just updated its ownership promise to consumers, with passenger vehicles attracting a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty plan, which is backed by a five-year/unlimited kilometre roadside assist package. 

Previously, the plan was three years/100,000km - and that’s even what some of the paperwork on the company’s site still suggests. We assure you, though, the five-year deal is legit.

Servicing is due every 12 months or 20,000km, whichever occurs first, under the Citroen Confidence Service Price Promise plan. The costs for the first three services are $414 (first service), $775 (second service) and $414 (third). That cost cover spans nine years/180,000km.

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.