Peugeot 208 vs Skoda Fabia

What's the difference?

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.

Once you get past the shock of the Fabia no longer being a sub-$25K car (because let’s face it, what is anymore?), the fact that it remains refreshingly simple to live with and engaging on the road should be celebrated.

It has its downsides if you need space, and you can buy a light (or even small) SUV for the same price, but you’ll be compromising in other areas.

The Skoda Fabia can’t do everything, but what it can, it does well. Plus, it’s certainly less common than the similarly priced Toyota Yaris.

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 Fabia’s design hasn’t departed dramatically from its predecessor, but the evolution into the current generation has the little Skoda looking more mature and smoother than before.

Some elements like its grille and headlights are a little sleeker and the car looks less boxy, but still has a unique Skoda design language that’s instantly recognizable.

Its chrome grille trim and its set of unusual 16-inch alloy wheels are the clues that this is the entry Select, plus the lack of much badging.

Inside, the change in generation is most obvious in the step-up in materials and some of the aforementioned tech (screens in particular), though the steering wheel is a carry-over even if it doesn’t look dated.

The new instrument display cowl which features the model name on its side, the round air vents, and the fabric across the dash bring the interior into the current decade, though the centre stack’s modernity is betrayed by climate controls that could have existed in 1998.

There are a fair few hard plastic surfaces, though none of them are in poorly thought-out places and don’t let the cabin down too much.

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.

There are cars in the market that, for around or not much more than $30,000, seem like a bargain given the perceived value of features like big touchscreens and (synthetic) leather. 

The Fabia Select doesn’t have those things, but everything in it makes sense and, more importantly, everything works well.

For example, as much as I point out the dated-looking air conditioning controls, the reality is they're much easier to use than an in-screen menu requiring the same amount of attention as replying to a text while driving - something that is rightfully illegal.

Simple controls on the steering wheel, a touchscreen that doesn’t require much attention, a clear driver display and a few shortcut buttons around the gear selector mean you can focus more of your attention on driving, without lacking any of the convenience or features you’d expect in a new car.

Wireless phone mirroring for Apple CarPlay and Android Auto add to this, as you can bypass Skoda’s (fine, but basic) multimedia software easily.

The lack of wireless phone charging is a shame, but not a deal-breaker, as the space under the centre stack is conveniently sized. The same can’t be said for the tiny storage bin under the centre armrest, though.

However, the glove box and door card storage is generous and there’s the Skoda-standard umbrella in the door that’s accessible when open.

The seats in the Fabia have decent bolstering and are ergonomically sound, manual adjustment is easy enough and there’s a turning wheel rather than a lever with increments to adjust the backrest.

Given the Fabia’s diminutive stature relative to most vehicles on the road, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the back seat isn’t the most spacious. But as an average-sized adult it feels like the kind of space I’d be comfortable in for a short trip, with adequate headroom, knee room and even a vent.

There’s no centre armrest, though, and the seats aren’t as comfortable as the fronts.

Behind the 60/40 split-fold there’s a generous (for a hatch this size) 380-litre boot with bag hooks, though the floor has some mildly intrusive angled plastic elements.

Impressively, the Fabia has a spare tyre rather than a repair kit, so kudos to Skoda for not taking the cheap (and less safe) option.

The Skoda Fabia has fallen prey to the same upward-creeping prices as many other light cars have, quite hard.

What was a sub-$25,000 car in its previous generation’s entry grade is now a $32,390 offering, plus on-road costs.

For an entry-level light hatch, the Fabia Select has a decent list of features, though is decidedly more basic than the already-launched Monte Carlo ($39,690 MSRP).

The headline tech features in the base Fabia include an 8.25-inch touchscreen covering multimedia functions, with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, an 8.0-inch driver display, two USB-C ports, plus drive mode selection and a host of safety features (covered later in this review).

For reference, the Monte Carlo gets a larger 10.25-inch digital instrument cluster and a 9.2-inch multimedia touchscreen.

The Select makes do with manual-adjust cloth seats, but does have keyless entry and start, a leather ‘sports’ steering wheel, automatic windscreen wipers, an auto-dimming rear view mirror and auto LED headlights and LED tail-lights.

Skoda says the Select’s features list aims to line up as “similar to rivals’ mid-specification models” and it’s about bang on. But its price might still be a turn-off for some seeking a budget-friendly light car.

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 Fabia’s turbocharged 1.0-litre, three-cylinder, petrol engine makes 85kW and 200Nm in this guise, mated to a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission driving the front wheels only.

Given the Fabia weighs 1265kg, getting to 100km/h in under 10 seconds - which it should be able to do, just - might depend on how many passengers you have.

While it’s not very fast or powerful, the Fabia’s outputs sit about average for its class and price.

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.

The Fabia has a 5.0L/100km combined cycle (urban/extra-urban) fuel consumption figure under WLTP testing, with a minimum 95RON premium fuel grade required.

With its 42-litre fuel tank, that means you could hypothetically expect to cover a touch more than 800km before running out of fuel, though that seems unlikely in the real world.

Despite a particularly lively drive undertaken purely for testing purposes, the highest fuel consumption the trip computer displayed was 7.7L/100km, which isn’t so bad when you consider the Fabia’s not likely to be driven hard most of the time.

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.

If you’re someone who doesn’t need a big car and likes an engaging drive, the Fabia ticks those boxes.

In fact, it feels like it punches above its weight. Well, not literally, because while it actually weighs in at over 1.2 tonnes, it feels lighter than even that.

Tight corners don’t faze the Fabia, and its steering and suspension both feel more dialled-in than a car with 85kW has any right to.

Yep, even though its engine is only slightly more powerful than some budget sports cars from the 1980s it feels peppier than it should.

It has some low-speed hesitancy thanks to its transmission - taking off from a stop sign if you’re not in Sport mode can be annoying - but with shift paddles (or a manual gearbox… ) the Fabia could be a hidden gem for enthusiasts.

Its suspension is firm, but not sharp enough that it allows bumps and rough roads to make their way into the cabin as shocks or rattles, and even holds its own on unsealed surfaces at sensible rural speeds.

The Fabia feels playful even on a commute, and the follow-through from the rear-end on a spirited bit of cornering speaks volumes about its chassis, even in urban driving.

The Fabia wears a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating from assessment in 2021, under recent but now-surpassed criteria.

That’s not to say its safety kit is outdated, as occupant protection scored well (58 per cent for adults, 81 per cent for children) while pedestrian and active safety were also adequate (70 ad 71 per cent, respectively).

The Fabia Select comes with autonomous emergency braking (AEB), pedestrian and cyclist detection, multi-collision braking, driver monitoring, lane assist, rear cross-traffic alert and six airbags - though no front-centre airbag.

It also features cruise control, though it’s not adaptive and requires a little more attention than most new cars - not necessarily a bad thing, mind you.

On the road, its safety tech is unobtrusive, leaving you to focus on driving while knowing there are features there to keep you safe should the unexpected happen.

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.

Skoda offers a seven-year/unlimited kilometre warranty on all its cars, which is becoming more common in the industry but is quite competitive for a European brand.

The Fabia is also able to be covered by a seven-year servicing pack for $3650, that being the total price you’d need to pay for the first seven years of servicing (occurring every 12 months or 15,000 kilometres, whichever comes first). In other words $521 per workshop visit.

Skoda also offers 12 months of roadside assistance from the new vehicle warranty start date, and another 12 months is topped up every time you service with Skoda.