The one that got away
2017 Peugeot 208 PureTech Black Edition Review:
This one didn't go entirely to plan. I think the dealer might have been on to me.
Car manufacturers aren’t interested in what I’ve got to say about their products; my opinion is meaningless to them due to my lack of credibility and fame. If I tried to contact Peugeot directly, requesting the loan of a 208 for a review in my magazine, I’d get no further than a middle-manager’s desk before being cast aside like a mouldy baguette. I’m too small-time to be taken seriously.
To combat this issue, I source my cars from dealerships and form my opinions on the short test-drives offered to potential customers. This approach requires an elaborate “front” to convince the dealer that my intentions are genuine, therefore increasing the likelihood of a blat about in whichever motor takes my fancy that week. And normally, it works great.
This week though, I struggled. I could feel the suspicion the second I walked into the dealership. Apprehensive eyes followed me around the room and every salesman addressed me in the same condescending, distrustful tone Harrods doormen use when refusing entry to people wearing ripped jeans. They knew. They were on to me.
I finally got sat at a desk opposite a sales rep and began my usual spiel. I went for the tried and tested “I’m shopping on behalf of my parents” approach, as it conveniently avoids the issue of me being completely skint. He didn’t buy it. And thus, began the counter attack.
He tried scaring me with overly-inflated prices. He scrutinised the legitimacy of my driving licence. He grilled me on my occupation and my business in his town. He tried to make me leave without a test-drive. But, I managed to twist his arm. Although I almost wish I hadn’t; the reward for my deception wasn’t worth the effort.
In 2016, I drove a five-door 208 and liked it very much. It bounced from pothole to pothole like an excitable terrier, it was powered by what sounded like a hornets’ nest trapped in a Flymo and the steering was heavy and involved. However, in the space of a year, Peugeot dropped the baton.
The suspension. I don’t know what Peugeot’s changed, but they’ve made it worse. Shortly after leaving the dealership, I pulled up to a set of particularly dim-witted traffic lights and, to save myself from boredom, began to explore the interior. The model I borrowed came with bucket seats so, because I’ve got the mental age of a ten-year-old, I tested their support by thrashing myself about the cabin.
The suspension was still swaying when the lights changed. It’s all mushy and soft, giving the impression that you’re driving a car far larger than its dimensions. Which is the opposite of what you want in a car designed to split lanes in a busy city. Changing lanes violently has the same effect and cornering hard makes the entire body leap away from the apex of the corner. It felt worryingly French and I didn’t like it.
Peugeot’s messed with the engine as well. In 2016, their 1.2 litre turbo-charged, petrol-powered three-pot produced a surprisingly smooth 108 bhp and 151 ft/lbs of torque. It wasn’t ground-breaking by any stretch of the imagination, but it sounded good and it did the job. A year on, the same engine produces only 82 bhp and 87 ft/lbs of torque.
It’s slow. And it hates being driven hard. Even a tickle of the throttle makes the shift light flash with disgust. If you ignore the warning and wring the engine out, expect to be shamed again for your disobedience. Try to thrash the engine to the redline and it’ll rattle and shake like an old diesel forklift, forcing you to change up a gear and go back to saving the planet.
Another thing I wasn’t keen on was the trim package. My complaints about the engine go hand-in-hand with this. The one I borrowed was a “Black Edition;” a supposedly “limited edition” run of poverty-spec 208s which have been garnished with the trinkets of the GTI. And I don’t like it. Why make a car look faster than it is? The new 208s already down 30 bhp. That figure isn’t going to recovered, regardless of how many spoilers and side-skirts you throw at the problem. It’s hopeless. All Peugeot have done is provide a factory starter-pack for ricers.
But worst of all were the pedals. I couldn’t entertain them. The clutch was far too light, and the bite-point was up near the sun-visor. The brake was far too light and much too responsive, standing the car on its nose with little more than a scratch from my right foot. And the throttle was far too light and felt completely disconnected from the engine.
Before I had the chance to reach a reasonable conclusion on the 208, I was ushered back to the dealership. I wasn’t given any more information and I wasn’t allowed to take photos of the car, with the dealer palming my phone aside stating, “there’s plenty on the website for you to use.” I tried to take a few sneaky shots on my way out, but the dealer quickly rose to his feet and hid the 208 in the service department of the dealership.
If you're interested, Google will provide photos of the exact model I reviewed. Because I couldn’t bear to upload a review without any photos, I used images of the 2016 208 instead. It’s basically the same. Just with two more doors, silver alloys instead of black, a slightly different grille, a less “sporty” bumper and a half-way decent engine.
Thwarted by a suspicious salesman. I’m gutted.
Luke Wilkinson 2018 ©