Stuck at the end of a peninsula poking into the East China Sea that bristles with hostile neighbours (North Korea and China), it’s no wonder the South Koreans are a chippy bunch. Their car manufacturers have never lacked confidence, even if it has been comically misplaced in the case of Daewoo before it went bust, or SsangYong, maker of the world’s most hideous cars.
The 13-year-old Hyundai/Kia Automotive Group, however, has almost lived up to its boasts, being the largest of the country’s car makers and fourth largest in the world. Kia is the smaller marque, selling just over two million cars last year to Hyundai’s 3.6 million, and consequently acts like the younger, noisier sibling. Its ambitious, world-domination plans outlined at the Rio launch last week in Seoul were accompanied by endless Mercator projections of its global spread, only lacking a dotted-line trajectory of a doomsday weapon for the full Bond-villain experience.
Yet the figures are as incontrovertible as they are unsettling. In the past four years, Kia has almost doubled its sales and it is one of the fastest-growing car makers in the world. While Hyong-Keun Lee, Kia’s vice-president, admits that the recession, scrappage schemes, the travails of America’s domestic car makers, Toyota’s quality worries and the aftermath of the Japanese tsunami have played into Kia’s hands (“We’ve been lucky,” he admits), it is hard to deny that people seem to like Kias.
Maybe they just like the prices, and the seven-year warranties, which have the effect of making the cars conservatively engineered. Many drivers buy cars like fridges; not for them the nuances of steering feel, they just want reliable, cheap-to-run wheels. And they’ve soaked up Kias in Britain, with the bland outgoing Rio, for example, seeing a 62 per cent sales boost from 2009’s scrappage scheme, which tells you more about Kia buyers’ values than the makers might want you to know.
Kia, however, wants to ascend from the bargain basement and soar with the premium brands. It feels threatened by the still-distant roar of Chinese car-making and instead wants to enjoy greater respect and profit margins. “My target is to be a rival to Volkswagen in developed markets,” says Lee. “We think we are level with the French now.”
The new Rio is Kia’s first stake in that ground. Designed by Peter Schreyer, Hyundai’s design director who came from Audi, this 13ft 3in supermini has a distinctive style and feel. Less sleek than the Ford Fiesta and not as grown up as Volkswagen’s Polo, it’s a slightly sit-up-and-beg design. It is almost an inch longer and wider than the previous Rio, but with more cabin space, thanks to the windscreen moving forward by six inches and much-improved packaging. So the cabin has room for five adults and the rear seat will accommodate three six-footers. The 288-litre boot is titchy, however.
Lots of love has gone into the cabin, with soft-touch plastics, an attractive three-dial binnacle and sensible 12-volt power sockets, USB port and auxiliary jack half way up the forward stowage bin. Not everything works as well, though, and the seats are too firm and unsupportive, the door bins are inaccessible and the driving position has an uncomfortable offset, at least in the left-hand-drive cars we tried.
The extras list is sensible, however, with upper trim levels getting pleasant leather touches, satnav or connections for a remote unit and a bombastic sounding stereo. Cruise control, reversing sensors, luggage nets, rain-sensing wipers and electric windows are standard.
Two petrol and two diesel engines will be offered, the most popular likely to be either the 107bhp,
1.4-litre petrol or the 89bhp, 1.4-litre turbodiesel. The headline “eco” engine is a three-cylinder, 74bhp, 1.1-litre diesel, which achieves a remarkable 88mpg EU Combined consumption and CO2 emissions of 85g/km. It’s a hair-shirt car, however, with a stripped-out interior, wind-up windows and as much fizz as cold soup. It arrives in September but Kia says it will take less than seven per cent of UK sales.
Of the two 1.4-litre cars, the diesel is preferable, although both are well damped and refined. The diesel’s superior torque makes it feel the quicker, despite its on-paper deficit – you need to wring the petrol’s neck to travel at the same speed. At 2,566lb, the diesel version is 216lb heavier than the petrol, but it returns a useful 68.9mpg and 109g/km of CO2 against the petrol’s 53.3mpg and 124g/km. Both have refined and well-engineered transmissions, with well-spaced ratios except the absurdly overdriven top gear in the petrol car, which is unsustainable if you encounter a headwind.
On class-standard suspension of MacPherson strut front and torsion-beam rear, the ride seems acceptable on poorly surfaced Korean roads, although the rear is noisy over potholes. All-round disc brakes are powerful, but the pads have such a poor initial bite they feel like they would outlive the car.
Opportunities to drive hard were limited, but body roll is well contained and the damping control is good. The Mando-supplied electronic power-assisted steering is spectacularly nasty, with sporadic weighting, unpredictable cornering and no self-centring action. Turn the wheel and that’s how the Rio stays, circling like an abandoned jet ski. The Kia will never join the premium club if it can’t get such things right.
The all-new Rio arrives in the UK in five-door form in September, with the three-door by the end of the year. If you like your existing Kia, you’ve going to love this car, but I wouldn’t be selling the Polo or Fiesta just yet.
THE FACTS Kia Rio
Tested: Five-door hatchback with 1,396cc, four-cylinder diesel. Six-speed manual transmission, front-wheel drive
Price/on sale: £10,500-£15,000/September (three-door in December)
Power/torque: 89bhp @ 4,000rpm/ 162lb ft @ 1,750rpm
Top speed: 107mph
Acceleration: 0-62mph in 14.2 sec
Fuel economy: 68.9mpg (Combined)
CO2 emissions: 109g/km
VED band: B (£0 first year, £20 per year thereafter)
Verdict: Good looks, build quality and keen prices. Steering, ride and handling still not a patch on top rivals’, but no longer a car you have to park around the back so no one sees you climb aboard
Telegraph rating: Four out of five stars
