Fiat 500E vs Peugeot 208

What's the difference?

A fun, funky EV which will no doubt appeal to lovers of Italian style, but also one which struggles a little on the range and price front.

Still, there’s no doubt that electrification has improved the Fiat 500 formula.

The 208 GT-Line is hardly a car purchased on its value offering; it’s an emotional purchase. Fans of the brand know it, even Peugeot knows it.

Here’s the thing, though, the GT-Line looks the part, is true-to-its-roots in how fun it is to drive, and will surprise most with its spacious dimensions and decent spec level. So, while it might be an emotional buy, it’s not necessarily a bad one.

It looks, well, it looks like a Fiat 500.

It’s actually bigger in every dimension than an ICE cinquecento, but it doesn’t really look like it, which is a good thing.

The 17-inch wheels look great, and big against the very small Fiat, and I like the hidden doorhandles, which make the already smooth-looking 500’s flanks look a little smoother still. But I can take or leave the little DRLs up front that are meant to act as little illuminated eyebrows for the headlights, which come over a bit too cutesy.

But I think the highest compliment I can pay it is that it looks like a regular Fiat 500 — one of the most successful reincarnations of a timeless design ever — and not some modern, eco-friendly version that would have killed the look. 

In the cabin, however, it’s definitely a more modern affair, with the big screen, the horizontal push-button gear selector, and the nifty push-button door openers.

Still, it’s all pretty familiar Fiat 500, only a little nicer, even if some of the plastics are far too hard and scratchy for a vehicle this expensive.

There are five colours available: Ice white, Onyx black, Rose gold, Ocean green and Celestial blue.

It might not be for you, but I had come around to the 208’s design by the time I handed the keys back. It’s a bit more upright and frumpy than the slick, conservative design of the Volkswagen Polo, or the swish, cutting-edge lines of the Mazda2.

It’s undeniably a European city car in its short and upright stance, but blazes its own path, even compared to French competitors. I grew quite fond of its weird, slopey bonnet, unconventional face and tough rear wheel arches. The way the rear light clusters clasp the rear to bring the design together is quite satisfying, as are the aluminium-brush alloys, recessed lights and the single chrome tailpipe.

It could be argued that this is a path well-travelled, with this 208 mirroring the design cues of the 207 that came before it, but I’d argue it holds its own, even in 2019. If you’re after something radically different, the styling on its replacement, due next year, is one to look out for.

On the inside, things are… unique.

There are cushy, deep seats for front occupants, with a super vertical dash design, leading up from the deep-set shifter (an older look) to the top-mounted media screen, which is slick, with its chrome bezel and lack of buttons.

The steering wheel is awesome. It’s tiny, strongly contoured and covered in nice leather trim. Its small, almost oval shape is super satisfying to wrangle, and enhances the way you interact with the front wheels.

What is extra strange about it is how far separated it is from the dash cluster. The dials are perched way atop the dash in a layout Peugeot refers to as the ‘iCockpit’. This is all very cool and aesthetic and French if you’re my height (182cm), but if you’re particularly short or particularly tall, the wheel begins to obscure vital information.

Other strange things about the cabin mainly involve little bits of plastic of varying quality strewn about the place. While the overall look is very cool, there are some odd bits of chrome trim and hollow black plastics about that probably don’t need to be there.

The 500e is 29mm taller, 61mm longer and 56mm wider than the current ICE Fiat 500 (now 1529mm, 3631mm and 1683mm respectively), and it rides on a longer wheelbase, too .

That means more front-seat room and head room, but there’s still not oodles of space in the four-seat cabin, and especially in the back, where things are pretty tight.

I’m 175cm tall, and my head touches the ceiling in the back, and if I had another full-size human in the back with me, I’d want it to be someone I know well, because we’d be well and truly aquatinted by the time we got to our destination.

The front seats are more accomodating, but there is a strange tightness to the pedal area for the driver. It’s so tight, in fact, that when you rest your left foot, you have to be careful not to accidentally clip the brake pedal when driving.

The boot is a small 185 litres, too. But you’re not buying this for practicality perks, are you?

The 208 hit me with some surprises here. Firstly, don’t drink and drive this car. And, by that I mean, don’t even begin to think you’ll find a good spot for a decently sized coffee. There are two cupholders under the dash; they are about an inch deep, and narrow enough to accommodate maybe a piccolo latte. Place anything else in there and you’re asking for a spillage.

There’s also an odd little trench there that barely fits a phone, and a top-box arm-rest thing that’s tiny and bound to the driver’s seat. The glovebox is large and also air-conditioned.

The front seats offer heaps of room, though, for arms, head and especially legs, and there is no shortage of soft surfaces for elbows.

The back seat was also a surprise. I was expecting it to be an afterthought, as it is in many cars this size, but the 208 delivers, with excellent matching seat trim and generous legroom.

Sadly, that’s where back-seat amenities end. There are tiny trenches in the door, but no air vents or cupholders. You’ll have to make do with just the pockets on the backs of the front seats.

Don’t be fooled by the 208’s cropped rear, the boot is deep and grants a surprising 311 litres to the shelf, and maxes out a 1152L with the second row folded down. Also surprising  is the inclusion of a full-size steel spare, stashed under the floor.

This Peugeot is never going to be as cheap as a Mazda2 or Suzuki Swift. The current range spans from $21,990 for the base Active to $26,990 for the GT-Line, and that’s all before on-road costs.

Safe to say you’re looking at a $30k hatch then. For the same money you could be hopping into a decently specified Hyundai i30, Toyota Corolla or Mazda3, but Peugeot bank on the fact that this car appeals to a special kind of customer; the emotional buyer.

Perhaps they had a Peugeot in the past. Perhaps the quirky styling calls out to them. But they aren’t interested in value… per se.

So do you at least get a decent standard spec? The GT-Line comes with a 7.0-inch multimedia touchscreen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto support, built-in sat-nav, 17-inch alloy wheels wrapped in some seriously low-profile Michelin Pilot Sport rubber, panoramic fixed glass roof, dual-zone climate control, self-parking function, front and rear parking sensors with a reversing camera, rain sensing wipers, sports bucket seats, auto folding mirrors and GT-Line specific chrome styling touches.

Not bad. The styling is certainly turned up a notch over the regular 208 range and the spec list makes it one of the better-equipped cars in the segment. However, there are some notable omissions which hurt on a car at this price. For example, there’s no option for push-start or LED headlamps.

Safety is okay, but it could use update. More on that in the safety section.

A single front-mounted electric motor delivers the power here, with 87kW and 220Nm on offer. Enough, Fiat says, to knock off 100km/h in 9.0 seconds. But it does feel quicker than that in real life, thanks to the way electric vehicles deliver their power.

There’s the usual EV single-speed gearbox, too, with power sent to the front wheels.

The regular (that’s non-GTi) 208s are offered with just one engine now. A 1.2-litre turbo petrol three-cylinder, which produces 81kW/205Nm. While that doesn’t sound like an awful lot, it turns out to be plenty for the little 1070kg hatch.

Unlike some notable French manufacturers, Peugeot has seen the light and dumped single-clutch automatics (aka automated manuals) in favour of a six-speed torque converter auto, which does its best to have you not notice it.

It also has a stop-start system, which might save fuel (I couldn’t objectively prove that it did) but will definitely annoy you at the lights.

The Fiat 500e’s 42kWh battery provides a smallish 311km driving range on paper, but when we got in it was more like 290km at 96per cent charged. A city car, then, rather than a long-distance hauler.

When it does come time to charge, you’re set up for 85kW DC fast charging which should take you from zero to 80 percent in 35 minutes. 

The claimed/combined fuel number for the 208 GT-Line is a slightly unrealistic-sounding 4.5L/100km. Sure enough, after a week of city/highway combined driving, I produced a number of 7.4L/100km. So, a solid miss. Slightly less-enthusiastic driving should see that number drop, but I still don’t see how you could get it down to 4.5L/100km.

The 208 requires a minimum of 95RON mid-range fuel, and has a 50-litre tank.

This is the probably the best-driving example of the Fiat 500 I’ve ever climbed into. Sure, it’s not quite as engaging as self-shifting a perky little manual, but it’s smoother, easier and more comfortable, and a whole lot better than ICE vehicles fitted with Fiat's odd dual-logic automatic gearbox.

The EV transition genuinely suits the little Fiat, admittedly sapping a little character, but also thoroughly modernising the drive experience, with smooth, constant acceleration, sharp-enough steering and a ride that’s mostly settled, only really becoming crashy over the bigger road imperfections.

The small dimensions here also help the EV reincarnation. Yes, it’s heavier than you might expect, weighing in at 1290kg (tare), with the batteries adding several hundred kilograms to the equation, but the 500e still doesn’t feel overly heavy, with the little Fiat remaining pretty light on its feet.

There are three drive modes on board, including the catchy Sherpa mode (because it will help get you where you’re going), which, when you’re running low on battery, kills the climate control and anything else it needs to preserve range and get you home. 

But you can’t shake the feeling that the 500e is a little expensive for such a specialist tool. It’s unashamedly a city car, but one that will cost you more than $50k, and which doesn’t feel quite premium enough in the cabin to justify that asking price.

The 208 is good fun, and lives up to its heritage of making the most of its lightweight dimensions and small figure to make for an agile city-slicker. The engine outputs might look like just any other hatch in this class, but the turbo comes on nice and strong in an impressively linear fashion.

It makes for reliable and strong acceleration, with the peak 205Nm of torque available at 1500rpm.

A featherweight at 1070kg, you’ll find no complaints from me about its performance. It’s no GTi, but it will still be warm enough for most.

Despite its upright figure, handling is fantastic, too. The low-profile Michelins feel planted at the front and back, and, unlike the GTi, you never really feel at risk of understeer or wheelspin.

This is all enhanced by the intense helm, with the small steering wheel giving it a thoroughly engaging feel. You can chuck this car into corners and down alleyways with enthusiasm, and it feels like it loves it as much as you do.

The suspension is stiff, especially at the rear, and the low-profile rubber makes it noisy on coarse-chip surfaces, but you’ll barely hear a peep out of the little engine. Other notable downsides include the slow-to-react stop-start system (which you can turn off) and the lack of active cruise, which would be nice at this price.

On the topic of active cruise, this car is showing its age in the safety department. Available active safety is limited to a camera-based city-speed auto emergency braking system (AEB). The lack of a radar, even optionally, means no active cruise or freeway-speed AEB. There’s also no option for blind-spot monitoring (BSM), lane-departure warning (LDW) or lane-keep assist (LKAS).

Sure, we’re talking about a car which largely dates back to 2012, but you can get cars a full size up with all those features for close to the same money from Korea and Japan.

On the more impressive side, you get an above-average set of six airbags, seatbelt pre-tensioners and rear ISOFIX child-seat mounting points, as well as the expected set of electronic braking and stability aids. A reversing camera is also now standard.

The 208 previously held a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating from 2012, but that rating is limited to four-cylinder variants, which have since been phased out. Three-cylinder cars remain un-rated.

The fly in Fiat’s ointment is its ownership proposition, with a three-year, 150,000km warranty now way below par in Australia these days, even if the battery is covered for the standard eight years. 

Servicing is every 12 months or 15,000kms, and will cost $250 a pop for the first eight years, which is commendably cheap.

Peugeot offers a five-year/unlimited-kilometre warranty on its entire range of passenger cars, which is up-to-date and in-line with most segment competitors.

The 208 requires servicing at yearly or 15,000km intervals (whichever occurs first) and has a fixed price to the length of the warranty.

Servicing is not cheap, with yearly visits costing between $397 and $621, although there’s nothing on the optional extras list, that price is all-inclusive.

Total cost over the five-year period is $2406 for an (expensive) average of $481.20 a year.