Daihatsu Sirion

Road test

When I finally tracked down the blob-like Sirion in the darker recesses of Top Gear's underground car park, I couldn't say, with any honesty, that I liked it. With its too-tall architecture, somewhat tacky strips of chrome, black and maroon colour scheme, and weirdly-shaped headlamps, it looked a bit like a failed attempt to restyle a London taxi as a trendy eatery.

I stepped inside and, like any polite customer, pulled the door shut. The slim seats were tall with upright backs - not unlike dining chairs, in fact. I looked for the napkin on the dash, but then realised that this was more Happy Eater than haute cuisine. Still, a meal's a meal.

I turned the key in the ignition and surveyed the console so I'd know what was on the not-very-extensive menu. The dash seemed bereft of exotic dishes, just the standard fare of speedometer, rev counter and fuel and temperature gauges, but it looked like wholesome fodder, nonetheless.

I engaged Drive using the long, chrome-capped gear selector and edged my way out onto the road, still trying to find something interesting on offer. Irksomely, traffic has a knack of starting to move only when your attention has drifted back towards the controls - like a waitress asking for your order whilst you are still reading the menu.

OK, for a starter, I'll have a slow drive through rush-hour traffic, with some music, please. With the heating on, the ambience got quite cosy and I turned on the radio. It wasn't very inspiring to realise I have a very similar unit in my 11-year-old Golf. It had been state of the art when new, but looks rather dated in a car with only 6.2 miles on the odometer. Then I spotted a +/- button on the steering wheel and tried to reduce the volume of Craig David's whingeing - his latest single bugs the hell out of me. Sadly, I had no joy. Just like any restaurant with music, it's tricky to get it turned down.

Those buttons didn't seem to change the radio station either; or do anything, in fact. Were they just pointless table dressing? At a convenient pause, a quick scan through the handbook revealed that they were activated by an additional dash-mounted control. What they actually do is enable you to operate the automatic gearbox as a 'manual' in a vaguely F1 paddle-shift style. Yum.

The traffic cleared... ah, the main course. At last the meal started going down fairly easily, helped by rapid acceleration, slick automatic gearchanges and a slight spiciness under the bonnet. In fact, there were some more surprises on offer with side dishes of supple suspension and reassuring brakes - though I could have done with a bigger portion of grip and a little less bread roll.

For a light desert, I tried sampling the wheel-mounted gearshift system. Sadly, my progress seemed no more rapid and the changes no more slick than when in fully automatic mode. An acquired taste, perhaps?

After a while with the car, I had developed a bit of a taste for Sirion. It makes a good value working lunch but wouldn't cut it for a romantic evening out

Nik Kisch