What is it like on the inside?
Honda says it has followed a principle it calls “man-maximum, machine-minimum”, which sounds like something weird Robocop would come out with if you spilled a glass of water on him.
In practice it’s supposed to mean junking any tech for tech’s sake and making sure that it serves the driver and passengers. Mercifully, it seems to mean that there are buttons for the aircon, but it hasn’t extended to a common sense approach to things like changing the car’s drive settings, which you can’t do unless your HR-V is stopped and in P.
It’s a fairly pleasant cabin, though, with plenty of legroom all round, but restricted headroom for adults in the back. One irritation is that the roof-mounted seatbelt for a central passenger can get in the way of the right rear passenger’s head (if they’re a grown-up). The front is comfortable, though, and the chunky steering wheel in particular is a delight to grasp, though it would be even nicer if it extended further toward the driver.
The HR-V comes loaded with technological goodies if you want them – there are Apple and Android hookups available as well as the potential for a wifi hotspot. The now requisite app that Honda’s whipped up will keep you in touch with the car (perhaps you’re missing it when you’ve left it for the day. Perhaps you’ve lost it in a large car park) and even serve as a digital key.
The magic seats in the back are a useful touch – it means you can get a load of shopping bags in the back without having to go to the boot, maybe a small bicycle or a bit of future. The world’s your oyster – and you could fit a load of them in too.
The Honda’s 319-litre boot might lag somewhat behind the 377 litres that you’ll find in arch-rival Toyota’s C-HR, but then the Toyota doesn’t have magic seats.
The delightful-yet-dull feature you’ll be showing your friends is the L-shaped vents up front that are designed to get air circulating around the cabin without creating a horrendous breeze, which work surprisingly well.