Hyundai Veloster vs Toyota Prius C

What's the difference?

Another good bit of Berry wisdom was the idea that the Turbo is the sweet spot of the range. While the Premium is indeed packed with goodies, they're not must-haves - the Turbo has everything you need while the Premium adds the wants.

So, at its core, this Turbo Premium is good warm hatch fun in a wacky, head-turning body, wrapped around a good cabin that could be a little less plasticky. Best of all, the fun design matches the fun-to-drive personality. It's a thoroughly modern Hyundai and I want (even more) to drive the full-fat bonkers N version we look like we're not going to get.

It's as if the the future is firmly rooted in the past at Toyota. The Prius is still undoubtedly clever, frugal and easy to drive, but it is feeling so old in places that the bad had begun to weigh on the good. If you're a tech-head or have a right foot crafted from lead, then there's nothing to see here. But if the thought of saving money at the bowser sets your heart aflutter, then step right this way.

You do not have to find the Veloster pretty to think it's cool. You can see echoes of the i30 donor car that lurks under the more interesting metal, with a big grille, sharper headlights and plenty of black bits to up the aggro for the Turbo model.

The rear bumper sports a pair of drainpipe-sized exhausts that aren't afraid to bellow a bit.

It's different from right to left in profile, with the rear door almost disappearing into the rear haunches on the passenger side. The high rear glass may not be great for seeing out of but it helps keep the Veloster identifiable and influential - there are more than a few cars getting about sporting a similar high rump with big lights.

The cabin is, like its predecessor, fairly restrained and very i30-like. It's all put together very well and is only let down by the centre console's plastics being a bit hard, scratchy and insubstantial.

The good news is that it doesn't look quite so quirky as the full-size Prius. The not-as-good news is that it's still no beauty-contest winner. Not helping matters was the fact our test vehicle was painted in a retina-burning yellow (they call it Hornet Yellow, and it's new for 2018) that looked almost nuclear.

Viewed front on, the blacked-out section of grille and bumper gives the littlest Prius a vaguely manta ray-shaped front-end, while the headlights climb both upwards and back into the body, lending a sense of sportiness to this very unsporty hybrid. From the back, the chunky bumper, vertical taillights and rear windscreen spoiler all add a little attitude to the design.

Inside, you'll find a small but premium-in-places space, with a gloss-black stereo surround that angles the main controls toward the driver, while the digital driver's binnacle is pushed toward the centre of the car, displaying speed, fuel and other key info above the stereo, rather than in front of the steering wheel.

I think the Veloster is very clever. M'colleague Richard Berry thinks the third door is a bit silly - say, like a third armpit. I'm of the opinion it's an exceptionally clever solution to a problem: how do I have a funky car without throwing the baby out with the bathwater?

Something like a three door hatch (yes, I know they're out of vogue) makes moving people about difficult even if you only do it occasionally. The Veloster's third door provides relatively easy access to the two back seats for people under about 150cm, and you can get okay access to a baby seat. Try that in an 86.

The new door aperture is quite a bit bigger than the old car and there is a bit more rear headroom which I'd still call marginal for my 179cm frame. Leg and knee room are okay, sitting behind my own driving position.

The boot is a useful if not staggering 303 litres. You have four cupholders across the two rows and door pockets in the front doors. Ahead of the gear selector you'll find a tray with the Qi charging pad and two USB connections, but only one will work with the stereo and is marked as such.

Not very. This is a Yaris-based city car, let's not forget.

That said, it never feels cramped up front, with enough shoulder and headroom to ensure you feel separated from your fellow passengers, where you'll also find two cupholders, and an infuriating USB connection housed in the touchscreen - so your cord dangles from the dash when connected.

Climb into the back, and you'll find yourself in a pretty snug space. Sitting behind my own (5ft-8inch) driving position, it's only the scalloped back of the driver's seat that affords me any clear air between my knees and the seat in front, and the space behind my head and the roof lining is minuscule, too. But again, we're talking city car space here, so you can't expect to lounge about back there.

The ambience in the backseat leaves a little to be desired, though. The door trim pushes into the passenger space, and the plastics used in the rear are rock hard. There's a single cupholder to share, and a seat-back pocket on the rear of the passenger seat, but that's it; there's no vents, USB or power sources. There's no bottle-room in the rear doors, either.

An easy-access boot space will swallow 260 litres with the 60:40 rear seats in place. And there are two ISOFIX attachment points, one in each window seat in the back.

We've just spent a week behind the wheel of the Prius c i-Tech; the top model in the two-variant range, sitting above a cheaper model known simply as the Prius c.

At $26,540, it ain't cheap for a city car (and it's $4k more than the most-expensive Yaris on which it is based; more worryingly, it's only $1500 cheaper than an Audi A1), and the standard features list is more a novella than War and Peace.

Outside, you'll find 15-inch alloy wheels, remote unlocking, LED headlights and front fog lamps, while inside you'll leather-look seats (they're actually vinyl), sat-nav and climate-control.

Tech is covered by an  (old-school feeling) 6.1-inch touchscreen that pairs with a six-speaker stereo, but there's no Apple CarPlay or Android Auto.

The 1.6-litre turbo-petrol four-cylinder is a familiar sight in Hyundais, in this case offering up 150kW at 6000rpm and 265Nm between 1500 and 4500rpm, which is a nice wide torque curve. Power goes to the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch automatic transmission.

Performance is swift rather than startling, with the Veloster's 1350kg cracking the ton in the 7.1 seconds, 0.6 seconds quicker than the manual.

Under that little hood lives a 1.5-litre, four-cylinder petrol engine good for 54kW, which pairs with a 45kW electric motor. Toyota lists combined outputs at 74kW at 4800rpm and 111Nm at 4000rpm.

That hybrid setup partners with a CVT automatic, pumping power to the front wheels.

Hyundai claims you'll get 6.9L/100km on the combined cycle. As ever, Hyundai is unusually close to real world figures, with my indicated average landing at a very respectable 8.2L/100km in a fairly urban kind of week.

If that last section didn't impress, this one surely will. The little Prius c will sip a claimed 3.9L/100km on the combined cycle.

That's very low, and the fact it accepts cheaper 91RON fuel makes it a very affordable car to run. Except... the onboard computers revealed a slightly less-impressive 5.1L/100km after my time with the car.

Emissions are a claimed 90g/km of CO2, which is very good.

I was fortunate enough to have some time on my hands, so I volunteered to take the base spec Veloster to Hyundai to swap into the Turbo. And look, it's fine, but in the same way the second-to-last-Celica was fine - nothing to write home about, more show than go. Comfortable, quiet, hatchy.

And the Turbo is many of those things. Except, as in the i30, when you step up to the turbo engine it wakes up a chassis that is truly terrific.

While it rides really, really well, it also piles through corners with even more enthusiasm than a similarly powered i30 N-Line, which is no slouch.

The Veloster is lower and slightly lighter, adding to the fun. And it doesn't spend half the time hitting the bump stops like the old car.

There are almost no duds in the Hyundai range when it comes to ride and handling, but the steering is in another league compared to the outgoing model's.

It's quick and points the car where you want, the front end digging in and tracking clean and true. It's terrific fun.

But, like just about every other Hyundai, its compliance and daily drivability is super-impressive. Only bad roads upset the rear suspension but the front is largely unflappable.

Flappable is the dual-clutch transmission. It occasionally hunts around looking for a gear and I spent a lot of time pulling the paddles to get it to do the right thing.

It was particularly recalcitrant downshifting without manual intervention, no matter what drive mode I chose. It can also clunk a bit when it's confused. I reckon I'd take Richard's advice and stick with a manual.

In much the same way that you don't buy an exotic performance car for its ability to run to the shops, you're unlikely to be buying the Prius for its ability to set your pulse racing.

But happily, it doesn't feel wobbly or disconnected, either. It's aided by being such a small package, and when you're not wafting silently about in electric mode, and you've coaxed that little petrol engine into life, it serves up more than enough poke to navigate the city, and even to leave the slow-reactors in your rear-view mirror at traffic lights.

The ride is good, too, feeling connected to the road below without feeling uncomfortable, although the little Prius does tend to track with the corrugations in the road, leaving you to wrestle it back into line. That's a job made easier by light and surprisingly direct steering, which feels tailor-made for the city.

Finally, the leather-look seats are comfortable, even over long distances, the razor-thin A-pillars make forward vision easy and it's a very simple thing to drive and manoeuvre  into parking spaces. And all of those are good things.

Not so good? Well, the entire drive experiences feels a little beige and emotionless, it can get noisy and there are parts of the cabin that feel downright cheap. Worst of all, though, is that for a car that once heralded the future, it's feeling very, very dated.

But there are some amazing quirks attached to driving an (almost) electric car, including the delivery of eco awards for using the least amount of fuel (they were awarded for 2.6, 3.2 and 3.6L/100km over as much as 25km - none of which occurred during my tenure). The hardest thing to get used to was the absolute silence served up in electric mode. I counted four seperate occasions when I walked away from the car with it still turned on.

Every Prius c arrives with seven airbags, along with a reversing camera and... wait, that can't be it, can it? Oh... Forget AEB, lane-departure warning and the like, this future-focused Prius has a safety package firmly rooted in the past.

It was awarded the maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating, but was tested back in 2014.

As always, Hyundai's solid five year/unlimited kilometre warranty is along for the ride. Slightly annoyingly, you'll need to return to your dealer every 12 months or 10,000km for scheduled service and prices are capped.

Four of the five services cost $299 with the fourth year at $375. Over the first five services, you'll average $314.

Toyota offers a three-year/100,000km warranty, while the batteries are covered for eight years or 160,000km. The car's six-month service intervals might sting a little, though, but with each service capped at $140 for the first three years, even taking two trips to the dealership a year isn't too expensive. Just annoying.