Skoda Fabia 130 review: the hot hatch is dead, long live the warm hatch

At last! The new Skoda Fabia vRS.

Absolutely – deliberately – not, actually. Despite 2026 heralding the 25th anniversary of Skoda’s vRS performance flagships in the UK, this is not the first proper Fabia hot hatch for 11 years.

Yep, it’s been that long since Skoda thought it was a good idea to turbo AND super-charge your grandma’s 1.4-litre church choir carpool.

Wait… why is it NOT a Fabia vRS?

Because, tragically, proper pucker little hot hatches aren’t just an endangered species. They’re on life support, thanks to CO2 average targets and the global crossover addiction. Even in the good old days it was only really Brits and Germans who bought them.

That’s why this whole segment has turned into a scorched wasteland. Ford Fiesta ST, Hyundai i20N, Renaultsport Clio, Seat Ibiza Cupra, Audi S1, Suzuki Swift Sport… all dead. The only signs of life scuttling about in the irradiated aftermath are the flat-footed VW Polo GTI, a couple of disappointing Minis, the electric alternative from Alpine (and soon, Peugeot)… and this thing.

A Skoda Fabia with 130 horsepower? Oh dearie me.

First bit of good news: it’s actually packing 174bhp! The ‘130’ name denotes the turbocharged 1.5-litre engine’s output in unromantic kilowatts, which only Australians get frothy over. It’s also a nod to the Skoda brand being 130 years old. A new intake and revised rocker arms are credited with the bump, making this the most powerful Fabia since… the vRS.

Power – or not very much – is why Skoda didn’t just dress this car up as a vRS. It’s not fast enough to mix it with the few truly hot hatches left. Even with a seamless seven-speed twin-clutch gearbox as standard, it takes 7.2 brisk but hardly exhilarating seconds to launch from 0-62mph. A sliproad dash from 50-70mph takes almost five seconds. The top speed’s actually quite autobahn-friendly though – a heady 141mph.

I’m guessing it’s time to manage expectations…

No, it’s not a fast car. And with no augmented engine note (adds cost) or fruity exhaust (you guessed it) the power delivery isn’t what you’d call eye-watering. Very linear though, and if you’re tap-happy with the paddles there’s almost no turbo lag. Plus you stand a fighting chance of never wasting a single horsepower through messy wheelspin, or having the wheel tugged about in zany torquesteer. That all adds character, sure, but some people prefer an icy efficiency from how their car accelerates.

A few hours in a Fabia 130 zinging about the Peak District is also enough to remind you what driving in Britain in 2026 really is. Even on beautiful moorland roads, it’s potholes, dawdling campervans and speed cameras. Having 174bhp you can use all the time is arguably a lot more satisfying than another 100 or so horses, a limited-slip front diff and six driving modes.

Still, if anyone from Skoda is reading, don’t let that stop you. We’d like to be sure…

Does it have the fun essence of a hot hatch, if not the pace?

If Skoda – or anyone else who’s deserted ranks – decides to get back into the full-fat hot hatch game, they could do worse than copy the Fabia 130’s damping. It’s extremely composed and grown-up, which means the car isn’t wearing over long distances. Body roll is restrained but it’s nothing like as firm as a Fiesta ST or a hot Mini. You never long for a Comfort mode, nor will you be rooting around for a stiffer Track setting.

Inevitably, the pay-off for a grown-up chassis is… it’s quite grown-up. Too sensible for tri-podding, waggly tale malarkey unless seriously provoked, unlike the old favourites which would twirl and slide if you looked at a mini-roundabout.

That’s a shame, because Skoda has put some thought into yobbery: there’s an option to disable the traction control but leave all the ESP on, or have the ESP in a half-way Sport setting that gives you a longer leash before cutting in. Nice idea, but underutilised here.

Also in the ‘gripes’ column: the DSG gearlever is yet again on the wrong way round for ‘correct’ sequential shifting, and even when you’re in Sport mode, with the ESC wound down… it kicks down if you’re heavy-footed and auto-upshifts are the redline.

How’s life inside?

Not brilliant if you’re tall: six-footers or over won’t appreciate the meagre steering wheel reach adjustment, meaning you’ll have to sit slightly closer to the pedals than ideal. But there’s plenty of chair adjustment and the 130’s thick-clad bolsters hold you in place gamely.

Besides a dash of carbon-effect dash trim and some red instrumentation graphics you’re hardly bombarded with hot hatch cosplay. Good call. There’s no red stitching or token suede, and the steering wheel paddles are plastic. Speaking of the steering wheel, have you ever seen bigger lettering on an airbag cover? It’s really proud it’s a S K O D A…

Otherwise it’s usual Fabia in here: cramped back seats, unremittingly grey, but ironically easier to operate than plenty of supposedly ‘premium’ small cars because Skoda has to use old-fashioned buttons instead of capacitive rubbish from the VW parts-bin. You still get a twisty light switch, buttons and knobs for heating, and tactile controls on the steering wheel. It reminds you of a time when car interiors didn’t make you want to feed interior designers feet-first into a man-eating paper shredder.

Sounds like quite a refreshing throwback. What about the price?

Thirty grand, which sounds like a lot for a lukewarm Skoda… unless you’re paying attention to how much cars cost these days.

This is the range-topping Fabia and it asks £29,995. That’s a £1,400 saving versus a Volkswagen Polo GTI, and actually about £400 dearer than a Mini Cooper S 5dr. Now, both of those are more powerful, offering 207bhp and 204bhp respectively. And of course, more badge clout.

You might think the Skoda wins out with more standard kit. Things like a reversing camera, keyless entry, LED headlights… well it beats stingy Volkswagen but a Cooper S is surprisingly well equipped. Unless you like buttons.

So no, the Fabia 130 isn’t some have-a-go bargain hero which red-faces the competition with a less-is-more approach. It’s a useful frisson of interest for the five-year old Fabia line-up and a sign of hope that affordable, chuckable little cars aren’t quite done yet. Though the sad fact is, you used to get a lot more adrenaline for your money – and a lot more choice – than you do now.