Renault Clio vs Skoda Fabia

What's the difference?

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.

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.

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 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 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.

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 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 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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.