Renault 5 - long-term review

I recently spent a long weekend in Rome in an attempt to switch off from work, because if there’s one way to stop thinking about battery capacities, 0-62mph times and niche 1990s hypercars, it’s to start thinking about the Roman Empire. Again.

Anyway, on reviewing the holiday snaps it turned out what I’d actually been doing in Italy’s capital was mostly taking pictures of brightly coloured Renault 5s on cobbled streets. I’ve lived with ours for a full year now, but I still can’t get over how good this car looks. I even spotted a Pop Green example wearing the same Euro spec steel wheels and plastic turbofan covers as our car. So cool.

Unfortunately, the 12-month mark means it’s time for Renault to reclaim my little yellow friend, and I’m genuinely gutted. Not many long term test cars have slipped into daily life this easily, and not many have brought such joy on so many simple journeys.

The R5 was our Car of the Year back in 2024, and I’d argue it’s still sitting pretty at the top of the supermini class no matter the powertrain being deployed. It’s great fun to drive, well damped over bumps in the road and I’ve even got used to the racing car-firm brake pedal. I don’t have kids, so my partner and I hardly used the rear seats. Lucky because it is a bit tight back there, although once folded flat the boot can swallow a reasonably sized chest of drawers.

I’ve also enjoyed using the Google built-in infotainment system, and the wireless Apple CarPlay has worked almost completely without fault. The My Renault app was similarly simple to operate once I’d got it connected, and I even managed to sort an annual service on there from start to finish.

However, we must return briefly to the point on superminis and their powertrains. I live in London, so it makes sense that I drive a small electric car. I take up less space on the road, emit less CO2 and am rewarded with a cheaper parking permit. However, it also means that I don’t have any access to off-street parking or a home charge point, which in turn means I rely solely on the public charging network. Can you see where this is going?

There are actually plenty of 5kW Shell Recharge points in the lampposts around my flat, meaning it’s easy enough to find a spot for an overnight charge whenever required. Unfortunately, while special EV driver energy tariffs allow home charging costs of around 8p per kWh, these Shell chargers are 52p per kWh off-peak and a whopping 72p at peak times. Not far off the cost of the speediest rapid chargers at motorway service stations.

With a 52kWh battery, that means a full 0-100 per cent charge would theoretically cost a minimum of £27.04 in the R5, and that’s if I didn’t stray into peak hours (currently between 4pm and 6pm). Bear with me for a moment while I share some more figures…

Over a year of running the Renault, I’ve managed an average of 3.0 miles per kWh according to the car’s trip computer, so if I was only charging at home on the lampposts, the running costs would work out at just over 17p per mile. The occasional rapid charge or peak hours charge would only increase that.

Taking the average cost of unleaded in the UK on 1 March 2026 (132.06 pence per litre), if I were running a petrol-powered supermini, I would only need to be averaging 35mpg to match those running costs. Not a tricky task for a small, simple pure petrol or hybrid city car.

Of course, I don’t blame the R5 for this, and there is currently talk of VAT being reduced from 20 to just five per cent on public charging. That should help those that can’t top up at home, although I still strongly believe that the cost of slower chargers like these should be capped to aid the transition to electric in the centre of town, where it makes most sense.

And yet, even without any new legislation I’d consider living with the R5 for years to come. With its surprisingly low seating position, its reliable charging and that funky denim interior, getting into it was always a delight.