By Gareth Butterfield 
For reasons I’ll never really understand, the city car is dying. We’re an overpopulated society bearing the brunt of sweeping urbanisation but we’ve seemingly fallen out of love with small cars. What’s that all about?
And by small cars, I don’t mean Ford Fiestas and Vauxhall Corsas, that’s another tragic tale to tell for another day, I mean really small cars, like the Volkswagen Up, the Smart ForTwo, and the Peugeot 108.
They’re the cars that gave the world cheap, frugal, easy personal transport in a crowded environment, and they’re the cars that many of us first engaged a clutch in.
The car I’ve been testing this week, then, the Kia Picanto, is part of a dying breed. I feel like I should be harvesting its DNA rather than taking it for a trip up the A38. But duty calls.
And as much as it feels sad to be in what could be the last of the true city cars, I’m determined to stay chipper, because it’s quite hard to feel sad when you’re driving a Kia Picanto.
Most models are powered by a peppy one-litre, three-cylinder engine with 62bhp, or there’s a fizzy 1.2-litre four-cylinder, and both suit the car brilliantly.
Don’t get me wrong, chasing a 0-60 time below 15 seconds is a trifle pointless, but you could happily dust off the old cliche we always used to apply to city cars, and refer to it as “nippy”.
And then there’s the way it drives. In a motoring landscape that’s being blighted by heavy EVs, or complex hybrids, there’s a refreshing sense of mechanical charm to the Picanto.
Stirring the manual gearstick and throwing it into a corner is borderline nostalgic, and always fun. Sure, it’s not fast, but most of us have forgotten the joy of driving a slow car in a spirited manner and reaping the rewards of feeling every response.
The Picanto takes a B-road jaunt in its stride. It’s a delight.
Of course, it’s at its best in the city, as you’d imagine, and you’ll be rewarded for your frugal choice of car with decent MPG, low emissions, and easy parking.
But it’s also remarkably civilised and grown-up inside, too. I tested a high-spec GT-Line S, which has more gadgets than a city car strictly should, but you’ve got all the safety kit you’d need in the urban sprawl, and some useful kit for helping long journeys pass by with minimal effort.
Even basic versions, which arguably make more sense, get an eight-inch touchscreen as standard, as well as a decent digital instrument panel.
There’s also aircon and all-round electric windows, and you’re only one trim level away from the joys of heated front seats and steering wheel, auto aircon, keyless go and wireless phone charging.
Price up a basic “2”, and your starting point is around £16,000. A few years ago we’d baulk at that for a tiny car, but I’m afraid it’s par for the course now.
The top models can easily knock on the door of £20,000 and even I’d admit that’s getting a bit silly, but you’d be surprised at how well equipped they are. And there aren’t many premium small cars to choose from these days, if you still long for internal combustion.
Kias still get a seven-year warranty, and given the scarcity of options in this segment, I’d hope the residuals would be fairly robust too.
I park some seriously nice cars outside my house from time to time, but during my week in a Picanto my neighbour made a point of crossing the road to ask me all about it.
He’s unashamedly disinterested in cars generally, but the sight of a distinctive little city runabout piqued his interest.
I’d like to think this served as an indication that there’s life in city cars yet. I certainly hope so, because the Picanto was an absolute joy to live with.
