Nissan Sukura vs Renault Clio

What's the difference?

The Sakura won't be for everyone, but why does every car have to have mass appeal? Can't we have some unique offerings in the mix, too? With a slightly bigger battery, Nissan could definitely find and audience for the Sakura in Australia, and I might even be near the front of that queue.

Note: CarsGuide attended this event as a guest of the manufacturer, with travel, accommodation and meals provided.

The Clio RS is still a ton of fun and in Cup spec, probably the best compromise between price and livability. Despite its advancing years (it turns five this year, so ready to start kindy) and big brother Megane hogging the limelight with a fancy new model on the way, the Clio is a stayer. It's missing some frustratingly obvious things like CarPlay, AEB, rear airbags and rear cross-traffic alert, but it's hardly alone in the segment. 

With the departure of the Fiesta ST, though, the Clio returns to the top of the list of best small hot hatches on sale today.

I’ve got to say, I reckon this thing looks pretty cool – but then, I have a bit of soft spot for small, quirky cars.

It’s definitely not going to be for everyone, and it looks like it could fit in your back pocket, but there’s something Smart-like about it’s diminutive dimensions, and even though it’s small, there’s some lovely detailing.

The Nissan badge glows, for example, the alloys wheels are beautifully intricate, and the two-tone colour palette and the bronze strip that runs the length of the body works beautifully, too, and matches the bronze highlights in the cabin.

Inside, it’s everything you need, and nothing you don’t. The interior is available in just three options — black, beige or grey — the seats are cloth and the whole vibe is kind of clean, unfussy and pared back.

The Clio is a handsome small car but nothing out of the ordinary until you apply the very cool Liquid Yellow paint. That hue really is quite something and works even better with the black alloys of the Cup chassis.

The car has some lovely surfacing and in a recent-ish refresh, the slightly odd headlights were reworked, as were the front and rear bumpers which now link to the RenaultSport Megane. Sorry, Megane RS. The RS flag signature lighting is a nice touch, acting as DRLs at the bottom corners of the front bumper.

The lovely organic shapes of the Clio's sides still look good and the rather tough rear end with the chunky diffuser leaves you in no doubt that it's the proper RS not the halfway-house, 1.2-litre GT-Line.

Inside is starting to look its age, but graceful, a bit like Jamie-Lee Curtis' or George Clooney's embrace of grey hair. There are still some of the sharp edges I didn't like. It's certainly a Renault to look at and ergonomically works pretty well. One thing that has been fixed at some point is the switch on the gear selector - it won't bite you if you curl your finger underneath when you press it. You might think that's a small thing, but when you did it, damn it hurt.

The Sakura stretches just 3395mm in length, 1475mm in width and 1655mm in height, and it weighs just over 1000kg.

Small, yes. But also clever. The space in the back of this four-seater, for example, is ridiculously generous, with miles of knee and headroom, and because it's on rails, you can slide the rear bench forward to just about double the 107 litres of standard boot room.

Cubby and storage spaces abound, including a hook for your takeaway food, and you can plug your devices in, too.

Honesty, you'll be surprised at how spacious this thing feels in both rows, and by how comfortable the couch-like seats are, too.

The Clio's interior is certainly snug. Rear seat passengers do okay for legroom but headroom is a mite marginal with the falling roofline for six footers. There are no cupholders out back, that curious French habit of supplying just a couple of cup receptacles of different and weird sizes persists. The front doors have space for bottles, the rears do not.

The boot is class-competitive at 300 litres (worth knowing the Trophy loses 70 litres to the Cup) and with the seats down stretches to a claimed 1146L.

The iconic 'Liquid Yellow' ($750 option) Clio I had for the week was the Cup spec chassis. The Clio RS 200, as it is officially known, comes in two specs - Sport and Cup - and there's a Trophy 220 at the top of the range. I had the Cup, which retails at $32,490 (plus on-road costs). The RS220 Trophy, with a bit more poke and stuff, weighs in at $38,990 if you're interested.

The Cup spec is heavily based on the more affordable ($30,990) Sport, which means you get 18-inch alloy wheels (painted black, so watch those kerbs), climate control, four speaker stereo, keyless entry and start (the "key" is still that unwieldy keycard style thing), reversing camera, cruise control, front and rear parking sensors, fog lamps, LED daytime running lights, sat nav, auto LED headlights, auto wipers, launch control, leather bits and pieces and a tyre inflation kit instead of any kind of spare.

The 7.0-inch 'R-Link' touch screen software runs the four speaker stereo with DAB digital radio, Bluetooth and USB. If you get the optional RS Monitor, there is a full-on telemetry system from which you can save your, er, "track day" data and overlay in Google Maps to compare with your mates' or past efforts. You can also change the piped-in engine sound to various different sound effects which are delightfully silly.

Android Auto is part of the breathtaking $1500 'Entertainment Pack' option that includes RS Monitor (which used to be standard) and no, there's no Apple CarPlay. Leather is a further $1500.

Bottom line is that you do get a decent spec bump from the $30,990 Sport along with the more capable (and less comfortable) Cup chassis.

The Sakura is a single-motor, 2WD proposition, with the city car producing a not-so-staggering 47kW and 195Nm, and a flying top speed of 130km/h.

The 200-equipped RSes pony up 147kW/260Nm, which is pretty much bang-on the obvious competition (Peugeot 208 GTI and the outgoing Fiesta ST), driving the front wheels through Renault's six-speed EDC twin-clutch. Unlike those two, there is no overboost function.

Dieppe's finest sprints from 0-100km/h in a claimed 6.7 seconds, pulling along a kerb weight of 1204kg.

The 20kWh lithium-ion battery will deliver up to 180km in WLTP driving range. That isn’t massive by any stretch, but Nissan says its owners in Japan drive less than 30km a week, which means what’s on offer is plenty. 

And if you’re thinking of a city EV as your second car, I guess you need to ask yourself - how much range do you need?

When it comes time to charge, a standard plug should take around eight hours to top the Sakura up.

Renault claims 5.9L/100km on the combined cycle but, yeah, nah. My week was admittedly filled with plenty of horseplay and spirited driving, yielding 11.4L/100km. If you were careful you may fare better - but not that much better.

The fuel tank is a fairly standard 45 litres. It requires 98RON premium unleaded.

There's a calculation that you need to apply to those less-than-stellar power outputs, and that is that the Sakura only weighs around 1000kg, which means that the little EV actually doesn't feel underpowered.

I mean, I wouldn't want to be overtaking on a country road – especially given the Sakura tops out at 130km/h – but in the city, the instant torque makes the cheap and cheerful Nissan feel perky enough.

The steering is typically Japanese-market specific, in that it's relatively vague and stodgy, but the ride – at least on Tokyo's very good street surfaces – is comfortable, and you do feel connected to the road below you.

The biggest perk, though, is that, not unlike the Suzuki Jimny, the Sakura is one of those vehicle's that feel a little bit silly, and lots of fun.

Now, this test was very much a sample, rather than a deep dive, with the entire experience lasting a handful of city blocks, but on first impressions, I think the Sakura is a smile-inducing EV that's plenty clever, and surprisingly practical.

The RS has always had a belter of a chassis. The Cup chassis became a thing just over a decade ago and is lauded by the fans as The One To Have. I've not always been convinced of this as my earlier drives of the Cup-equipped machines have usually been in close proximity to the Sport chassis. 

The Cup is slightly lower than the Sport, with 15 per cent stiffer springs and dampers and perhaps more importantly it scores 18-inch wheels with Dunlop Sport Maxx RT2 tyres, which you can reasonably expect to be a bit firmer than the 17s with Goodyear F1s on the Sport. And they are.

However, in most situations, the Cup chassis is perfectly benign. You certainly feel the bumps and lumps, but you haven't bought a Cup chassis for Lexus-like isolation. It's certainly sharper than the Sport chassis and when you're really giving it a go around the bends, the comfort deficit is more than made up for by the extra grip and poise.

The RS has always had a belter of a chassis.

The chassis is aided and abetted by a torquey 1.6-turbo that cheerfully...no, gleefully spins to the redline which could do with another thousand revs, but that's forced induction for you. The aluminium shift paddles need a good positive pull to get a gear, but that gear is delivered quickly and effortlessly. The Clio is a great deal of fun in Sport and Race modes, with throttle mappings and gearshifts becoming more aggressive as you switch through the modes.

The brakes are tremendously effective and the electronic limited slip diff (*cough* brake-based torque vectoring) ensures you'll hit your apexes and the tyres spend more time gripping than spinning.

But it's not all hairpins and off-camber left-right-lefts, is it? Plenty of owners have to live with the car in traffic day to day. Driving the Cup in isolation, I've changed my mind about it. I reckon it's the best of the two chassis settings. The city ride is better than decent, with the hard edges potholes chamfered off by the dampers and decent compliance. It's not too noisy, either.

On board the Clio is four airbags (no curtain coverage for those in the rear), ABS, stability and traction controls, a reversing camera and two ISOFIX points along with three top-tether anchors.

The Clio was awarded a five-star ANCAP rating in November 2013.

If the Sakura makes it to Australia, it will be covered by Nissan’s EV warranty, which includes a five-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty. And a battery State of Health guarantee, which spans eight years or 160,000kms.

Renault says it was the first European maker to offer a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty in Australia, and who are we to argue? The package also includes up to four years of roadside assist and three years of capped-price servicing.

Renault expects to see you just once a year or every 20,000km, which gives you a bit more headroom than some similar service plans, at least on the mileage.  The first three services will cost no more than $369 unless you need a new air filter ($38) or pollen filter ($46). At 60,000km or four years you'll cop $262 for a set of spark plugs. The company's website also suggests if the Clio doesn't like the state of its oil, it will beep at you until you have that attended to.