Microlino review: is this the perfect city car for 2025?

Microlino… isn’t this the car with a scooter in the boot?

That was the original idea, yep. Back in the mid-2010s TopGear.com caught wind of scheme by Micro, the Swiss company behind the original folding scooter toy.

They’d decided that city cars – even Smarts and Toyota iQs – were needlessly big, heavy and complicated. They reasoned that there was no need to make sure such cars had decent motorway manners, or for electric city cars to have lots of range. Because that defeats the point of making a talented city car.

So, they set about building a proper city car. Inspiration was taken from the BMW Isetta bubblecar of the late 1950s: the same egg-shaped look, the same single front door, and power going only to the rear wheels. Yes, wheels. Instead of a single wheel at the back of the original.

And yes, they came with a Micro scooter in the boot. The idea being that in a city, sometimes parking is tricky. So leave the car half a mile from your destination, and scoot the last bit.

All very altruistic and clever. What happened next?

Economics, basically. Micro wanted to sell its original as a cheap and cheerful EV for all, costing less than €10,000. But interested customers wanted… what humans tend to want. More luxury, more range, more equipment. Just more of everything. “Make it more of a car,” they said. And credit to Micro – it has listened.

So what’s the spec of the finished car?

Depends which version you buy. The base ‘Lite’ has a top speed of just 28mph and around 58 miles of range, but costs £17,000. That’s around £1k more than a basic Hyundai i10, which is an actual car.

So for £18k, you’re much more likely to be interested in the core ‘Microlino’. As well as a heater, soft-close door, chrome trim and Sport mode (really) top speed leaps to 56mph. You can also upgrade the range: a 110-mile battery is £1,800, or a 141-mile battery costs £3,500 extra.

It’s a shame that not enough people bought into the original concept of keeping it as light, simple and frill-free as possible, because the Microlino becomes much harder to make a case for when it’s priced higher than a brand-new Dacia Sandero. But even with Dacia, Brits buy more of the plush version than we do the basement spec. As soon as someone builds a cheap car, the market wants a bougier version. And that’s why the Microlino is now less of a people’s car, and more of a fashion accessory.

So what’s it like?

Unique, fun, and not without flaws, which we’ll come to. But even climbing aboard is an event. Nowadays the single, full-width door is now electronically released, losing its chunky Smeg fridge handle in the process.

I’m not sure the novelty of clambering through the car’s ‘mouth’ like it’s the lovechild cub of a cargo plane and a car ferry would ever get old, but once you’re aboard you need to perform a little pirouette and basically fall back into the seat. It’s left-hand drive only due to the complications of moving the fixed steering column.

So is it very luxurious inside now?

There’s certainly a less ‘wipe-clean’ feel compared to the old prototype. The seat is quilted and slides for adjustment, though the driving position remains stubbornly ‘1980s Italian supercar’. Splayed legs, locked elbows.

The fit of the trim is better sorted, though it still feels tough. The screen you need to swipe through to open the boot is laggy but the instruments are clear now. There’s still a Bluetooth speaker inside for portable entertainment, and a smartphone holder gives a clue to the source.

How the performance?

We tested a range-topping 15kWh model with the extended range, which takes weight to the wrong side of half a tonne. Despite only mustering 16bhp, it’ll do 56mph but isn’t exactly spritely. Ironically, an e-scooter would have it for breakfast.

What’s it like to drive?

Not as charming as it looks, sadly. Despite a wider rear track than originally envisaged there’s a lightly unnerving vagueness to the Microlino when it enters a corner, and clunky driveline shunt when lifting off. The ride is abrupt over speed humps, which isn’t ideal for a town car. So it’s not something you’ll be keen to cover distance in.

Begs the question, why go to the expense of extending the range? You’re not going far in this. Pop to the delicatessen, raise a smile, park nose-on to the kerb. Open the sunroof and slide back the windows.

As a car it’s flawed. Think of it more as a pet. Not brilliantly house-trained, but somehow kinda loveable.