What is it like on the inside?
So idiosyncratic. Great one-piece seats with big, chunky head rests, a radio on the transmission tunnel, the copper inlays, the boot that’s mostly taken up by the carpet-covered spare wheel. It even had a primitive rain sensor – the system measured the current needed to drive the wiper motor – if it was wet, less effort would be needed, so the wipers would wipe again. Mind you, relatively conventional dials and instruments, when those fitted to Citroen’s other products at the time – the GS and CX most notably – were anything but.
You sit higher than you might expect, behind a windscreen that’s more upright than you might expect, in seats that are more supportive than you might expect. The steering, remarkably, adjusts for both reach and rake. You’ll get people in the back, too, and they won’t complain. You’re aware of the length of bonnet up front not so much visually, as how far ahead the wheels feel when you turn them.
And don’t forget the whole car is height adjustable. Levers on the driver’s sill allow the hydraulic suspension to raise and lower over a wider range than most modern SUVs. Ground clearance can be… significant. Or more belly-scrapping than a low rider.
Yes, some of the black plastics are brittle and the overall ambience doesn’t quite live up to the radical promise of the exterior, but you won’t mind because you’ll be interacting with the gorgeous gearchange and reminding yourself to make no sudden movements with the steering or brakes.