Mini 5D Hatch vs Citroen C3 Aircross

What's the difference?

The Mini Clubman JCW is quirky in a lot of the right ways, and now has a hard-charging engine to up the adrenalin factor. If you were already sold on the idea of joining the Clubman club, this one will steal your heart more than any other.

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.

It's no real secret that earlier iterations of the Clubman were, well, a little challenging on the eye (Mini itself says “It was cool - if you were built that way…").

But this face-lifted version is much easier on the eye, if not as a cute a package as the three-door hatch variants. It's dimensions - long, smooth sides, a squared-off rump and bulging grille - somehow work as one to create car that is undoubtedly unique, but also rather  fetching.

Inside, it’s all pretty familiar Mini, what with the circle screens and jet-style switches. And it is a stylish space in the cabin, with a good material mix and the addition of wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto making the centre screen far more functional.

The only downside is that, for mine, it favours that style over substance. It’s not the most user-friendly space I’ve ever sat in, though I imagine you’d get a little more used to it the more time you spent in there.

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. 

The Clubman is super practical - for a Mini... This is not a Bunnings bandit, and nor will you be piling endless Ikea flatpacks into the boot. 

It measures just over 4.2m in the length, 1.4m in height and 1.8m in width, and while they're not massive numbers, you might find yourself surprised by the room in the backset.

I'm around 175cm, and I could sit behind my own driving position with ease - thanks in no small part to the clever scalloped seas that give you extra leg room - and the headroom isn't half bad, either. 

Yep,  you can definitely fit two adults in the backseat (but never three), and those travelling back there will find air vents to help keep the temp down, as well as USB points and a pair of child seat anchors. 

Up front, the cabin somehow manages to feel more cramped, with the steering wheel, centre console and controls on the driver's door all feeling like they're encroaching on your personal space a bit, but it's a comfortable place to sit all the same. 

Step around to the barn-door style boot and you'll find what looks a little bit like a station wagon, only without all the space. Yes, it looks like a positive load-lugger next to the three-door hatch, but you still don't get that much space for luggage, with the official number at 360 - 1250 litres.

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.

This is a cracking engine; a twin-charge, 2.0-litre, four-cylinder weapon that sends 225kW and 450Nm thundering to all four tyres.

That power is funnelled through an eight-speed automatic transmission, and will see the Clubman JCW clip 100km/h in 4.9 seconds before pushing on to a 250km/h.

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.

Mini says its Clubman JCW will sip 7.7L/100km on the combined cycle, and emit some 175g/km of C02.

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.

Yes, this is the most powerful Mini to have landed in Australia. And even better, it’ll remain so, or at least equal first, when the Mini GP arrives next year. That car gets this same thumping engine, and the outputs are the same, though the smaller, lighter hatch will no doubt be faster. 

It means Clubman JCW shoppers aren't about to lose their street credit, with this engine likely to remain the king of the castle for some time yet. 

The Clubman It might tip the scales at 1550kg, but the kilos don’t hurt its straight line speed much. Whack it in sport mode, which also adds this deep bass to the exhaust, plant your right foot and the Clubman positively pounces forward.

Better still, it feels - and sounds - quick, too, There’s this angry snap and crackle on the overrun, and the exhaust genuinely booms in the cabin when you really bury your foot. 

You’ve heard the cliches before, of course, about Minis feeling like they’re on rails, and we won’t waste your time with those here. Suffice to say we have pushed Clubman around some pretty tight corners at some pretty decent speeds, and while it doesn’t feel like a featherweight, it also picks and sticks to a line with absolutely no nonsense from the tyres and very little in the way of body roll.

That’s the good, now the not so good. The impressive handling feels like it’s been achieved by hardening up the suspension as much as possible, and the downside of that is that it can feel plenty sharp and bouncy over big bumps. On the right road, it kind of adds to the experience, but I'd imagine the daily commute would start to fray your patience fairly quickly.

There’s also a kind of skittishness to the way it drives fast too, which I actually don’t mind, but others might say isn’t as natural and flowing as others in the segment.

But this is the hardest, fastest clubman you can buy, and so you’re going into it knowing there’s going to be some comfort compromises. And if you’re looking a loud and rorty hot-hatch experience, this thing delivers in spades.

And on the right stretch of road, it’s an absolute hoot.

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.

The Mini Clubman JCW is covered by a three-year warranty, and falls under the BMW group's condition-based servicing program, in that it will tell you when it's time for a service. 

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.