Hyundai i20N - long-term review

The Hyundai i20N is a rare old thing, one of the few remaining combatants in a feisty but shrinking sector. Fast Minis aren’t quite what they used to be, the Polo GTI plays things very safely and the French – once undisputed champions of gnarly front-driven performance – have been MIA for years. You want a small hot hatch? You buy a Fiesta ST or you buy one of these. Or stump up many thousands of pounds more for a GR Yaris.

I suspect I’d buy one of these. Partly because Fiestas are blimmin’ everywhere, but mostly because Hyundai’s N division is growing and maturing with such momentum, it’s hard to resist being pulled along for the ride. Three years ago, I was handing back an i30N after a superb nine months of stewardship, completely smitten but compelled to point out its poor fuel economy and terrible turning circle, though both have long been blots on the powerful FWD hatch copybook. Except in the i20N, which has reliably topped 40mpg without me hypermiling and which is defter at parking manoeuvres than its sibling. Growing and maturing, see.

The layout is fairly traditional. A 1.6-litre turbo four drives the front wheels through a standard six-speed manual gearbox and a limited-slip differential, the latter being standard and not part of an expensive ‘track pack’ or any such robbery. In fact, everything is standard with the i20N. Your 25 grand gets a dinky little hatch so full to the brim with equipment, it’s amazing they’ve kept it pegged at 1.2 tonnes. Your only options are a Bose stereo picking from its generous range of colours.

So those 18in wheels and Pirelli P Zero tyres, its pair of highly configurable pair of 10in screens and its hugging cloth sports seats are all included, as is a chunky five-year warranty. Because it’s still a Hyundai, after all. Those seats – along with the steering wheel – are heated. Not exactly revolutionary in the world of cars these days, but I’ve grown so accustomed to them on finger-bitingly cold mornings that I’ve been utterly miffed when I’ve got into any car - loadsamoney SUVs included – without a heated ‘wheel. I feel terribly old saying it’s one of the things I’ll miss about the i20N. Clearly I’m maturing too.

Rest assured I’ll also miss the way it drives. As we’ve previously said, it’s not as slapstick in corners as a Fiesta ST. It won’t pivot gleefully around apices like it’s playing the role of a 205 GTI in an amateur theatre production. There’s a surefootedness beneath the i20N that gives it a different character to the i30N and Kona N it sits below; odd, perhaps, given it’s the smaller, cheekier car on first appearance. That’s not to say it isn’t fun; its differential is so thoroughly developed that you can commit barely fathomable speed into corners, getting on the throttle gobsmackingly early to tug yourself out of them. It’s like a shrunken older-gen RenaultSport Megane. Firm ride an’ all.

I’m not going to claim the engine is amazing. It sounds a tad strained at high revs and if you’ve prodded into N mode – or programmed the punchier engine tune into one of your bespoke drive setups, accessed by the baby-blue steering-wheel buttons – then computer gamey faux-sound is pumped in. Maybe I’m the wrong audience for these sorts of things, but I quickly dialled the engine back down in my N Custom maps to keep the vibe more natural.

Overall, though, the i20N’s been a superb partner that – for shame – has been employed for more long-distance journeys than it has off-piste raids. Which is to say it’s proved refined and capable at motorway miles in a way its great hot hatch ancestry simply wasn’t. Putting in a three-hour stint on the M1 aboard a Nineties equivalent means buzzing away at nearly 4,000rpm. You’ll be using barely half the revs in here, ensconced in its wonderful seats with your audio streaming neatly via CarPlay. Maintenance has been a doddle, too.

While it’s objectively the best N car yet, I’ve pined for a bit of the i30N’s rough-edged charm, however thirsty that car proved. Though for the do-all role a hot hatchback should fulfil, the sheen of sense that’s been applied to the i20N undoubtedly makes it a more astutely targeted thing. I do think a bit more mischief could be coursing through its chassis, but deep down I’m probably just mourning the unploughed furrow of a proper 4WD homologation special like Hyundai’s rally stage rival Toyota unexpectedly whipped up. What happens next is very intriguing; Albert Biermann – the former BMW M man whose expertise has shaped N – is edging towards retirement via a more advisory role while the team’s next big reveal is likely to be a go-faster Ioniq 5. It’ll be cleaner than the i20N while getting on for twice its weight, too. N division really is moving at a rate of knots.