Under normal circumstances I know you’re not very interested in cars like the
Kia Rio you see photographed here. However, stick with me because you can
buy it, brand new, for one pound. One pound is really very little for a
full-size car. Actually, it’s even very cheap for a two-inch model of a car.
I’m not sure, but I bet you couldn’t even buy a pair of shoes for a pound.
Plainly, there are going to be a few drawbacks with a car this cheap. And sure
enough, there are. You may have seen The Fly II, in which a scientist
attempts to teleport a dog. In one of the most gruesome scenes I’ve seen in
a film it arrives at its destination completely inside out. Well the Rio is
uglier than that.
Inside, things get worse. Yes, there is plenty of space for generously
proportioned adults in the back but only because there’s almost no space at
all in the front. Those with long legs or a bit of a gut — and I have both —
will find the driving position excruciating.
And you should see the quality of the interior trim. I’ve used many metaphors
in the past to describe cheap-looking plastic but none seems to work here.
It’s not like it was made from a melted Action Man. It’s not like a video
rental box. It’s even worse than a Barnsley market trader’s Pacamac.
Now, I was going to explain at this point that such things could be overlooked
in a car that costs a pound. But then I found that it’s not a pound at all.
The headline-grabbing sticker price is just a deposit. To secure the whole
car you will end up paying seven thousand five hundred and seven more
pounds. And that looks like one of the biggest jokes in automotive history.
This kind of money would get you a real car, a Fiat Panda with some change. Or
a Nissan Micra. Bargain a bit and it would get you a Ford Fiesta 1.25
Finesse a Renault Clio or a Volkswagen Lupo. In fact, the list of things I’d
rather buy with £7,508 is endless. It even includes 750,800 penny chews.
I knew it wouldn’t be much cop when the man from the importer asked,
incredulously, why on earth I wanted to road-test it. And my expectations
fell even further when he telephoned just 24 hours after the car arrived, to
see how I was getting on with it. Car firms rarely do this; it implies they
have no confidence in the product.
But sadly, his nerves didn’t lower my expectations quite far enough, because
the Rio was dreadful. Sure, with 1.3 litres under the bonnet you get more
cubic capacity than you do from an equivalent Euro car, but as we chaps keep
being reminded, size isn’t important. It’s what you do with it that matters.
And what Kia does with its 1.3 litre pecker is nothing at all.
The actual performance figures don’t look too bad if you’re used to walking. 0
to 62mph takes 14.2 seconds, and in the absence of a headwind, it will crack
100mph. But not on a hill. I have cycled into Chipping Norton from my house
— once — and didn’t notice any gradient, but the Kia did. And in fifth gear
it simply didn’t have enough oomph to overcome gravity.
Then there’s the quality of the power. It comes in lumps, as though the engine
mapping were modelled on Monument Valley. One minute you’re on a plateau,
then for no obvious reason there’s a burp of torque followed by a hole the
size of the Grand Canyon.
And the noise. Oh my God. You long for the moment when you can cut the din by
going into fifth . . . but when you do, you find yourself on another hill,
virtually grinding to a halt.
Mind you, the need to move around at 4mph is useful because of the way the Rio
goes round corners. I haven’t driven a car so inert and with so much body
roll since the 1970s. If you have a Hillman Hunter now, you will probably
find this acceptable. If you don’t, then you won’t.
Small wonder Kia’s importer in Britain is sponsoring the Pedestrian
Association’s Walking Bus scheme. The idea is that parents take it in turns
to walk a group, or “bus”, of children to their school in a morning.
After three days of being transported in the Rio, my kids thought it was a
brilliant idea to walk instead. Even though their school is 18 miles away
and it was blowing a gale directly from the Canadian tundra.
So, why is the Kia so bad? Well, typically what happens in an emerging economy
is that the government doesn’t want to see its hard-earned cash being
squandered on cars and trucks imported from elsewhere. So indigenous car
firms are established, and to protect them huge import duties are
introduced.
Kia went bust when the tiger economies collapsed, and had to be rescued by
Hyundai. But as a general rule this protectionism causes these car firms to
flourish. Then, when things are going well, they decide to earn foreign
currency . . . so, hey presto, Kia and Daewoo, Hyundai and Proton — not to
forget Perodua and Ssangyong — all end up in Britain. This would be fine,
but here in the West our grandparents grew up with the car, whereas in Korea
everyone’s grandparents grew up on an ox. In their civil war, which started
only 50 or so years ago, the army in the south faced the Russian T34 tanks
on horses. As a result a car, any car, is still a novelty.
It’s no surprise to find that over there the Rio is called the SF, which — I’m
not joking — stands for Science Fiction. To them it’s probably as amazing as
the Model T Ford was to Americans 80 years ago.
Think about it. The people who designed the Rio got the wheels in the right
place and knew how to fit electric windows, but they know nothing of engine
refinement or suspension compromises. For Koreans, trying to make a
world-class automobile is as hard as us trying to make
dog-and-vinegar-flavoured crisps. We wouldn’t know where to start.
So will Kia ever get it right? Well, today the western car firms are
technologically advanced, but look where that’s got them. General Motors
makes more from financing cars than it does from making them. Fiat is in
deep, deep dung, Chrysler has been swallowed up by Daimler-Benz, and Rover,
the last drop of Britain’s once mighty car industry, is teetering on the
edge of evaporation. Even Nissan had to merge with Renault, so there was no
chance for Volvo, Jaguar, Land Rover and Aston Martin, all of whom are now
under the Ford umbrella. Not that there’s much respite under there since
Ford itself is perilously close to bankruptcy.
Maybe all the Korean firms will come together to form a sort of Korean
Leyland. Maybe the whole thing will be brought to its knees by an oriental
Led Lobbo. Maybe they will one day make a car every bit as refined and lusty
as the Fiat Panda.
Or maybe, just maybe, the problem the western car firms are having is that
their cars are just too good, too complicated. In the heat of competition
they’ve accelerated their technology to a point way in advance of what the
customer needs. I mean, electronic brake distribution; really? What’s that
all about then?
So maybe the Kia Rio is actually what the market wants these days: something
that’s not very good, but probably good enough.
VITAL STATISTICS
Model: Kia Rio LX
Engine type: Four-cylinder, 1343cc
Power: 80bhp @ 5500rpm
Torque: 86 lb ft @ 3000rpm
Transmission: Five-speed manual, front-wheel drive
Fuel: 42.8mpg (combined)
CO2: 157g/km
Top speed: 103mph
Acceleration: 0 to 62mph: 14.2sec
Price: £7,508 (inc £1,000 reduction until March)
Verdict: Absolutely dire
