#3 - The Feisty Firecracker

Renault-Sport Clio V6: Let me tell you how the Clio V6 was created. Renault took the best-selling Standard Clio, threw the standard spec engine away and put a terrifying 255 hp 3.0 liter 24-valve V6 where the backseats used to be. People thought Renault had clearly lost its mind because it converted a nice, sensible family hatchback into a loud, mid-engined psychopath with no backseats and only enough space in the boot for the day’s laundry. Oh and had the turning-radius the size of the Arctic Circle. People would openly laugh at you if you even thought this car was not ridiculous. But they are the sort of people who spend their whole lives trying to be normal, like everyone else. They drive white Toyota Corollas not because they love the car but because it’s the best-selling car in the world. The sort of people who have no sense of identity or imagination whatsoever and can’t even think on their own. If I was a Secret Agent, I’d drive a Corolla coz nobody would even notice me in it and I would blend effortlessly into the overwhelming mediocrity all around. And I’d probably get sick of it all in about 4 mins and quit the CIA so I could drive a Clio V6.

Power Lap [+1 min 34 sec]: Right, you may notice that the Clio V6 is the second-quickest car so far. What may not be so obvious is that the Clio is by far the most fun car to drive in the whole game. Thanks to the ideally located engine, the Clio doesn’t understeer or oversteer - it just dives madly towards wherever you point its nose like a crazed greyhound. Every steering input you give is magnified a million fold and it’s not just the front wheels that react, it’s the whole bloody car. The handling on this car is responsive to the point of being jumpy and twitchy as hell.

And just imagine what happens when you hit the Nitrous. For a few terrifying moments, you will have absolutely no control over the car. Even after you yell yourself hoarse at it and bring it back, it refuses to go calmly along a straight line; it weaves along erratically as if bouncing off invisible barriers, giggling madly and screaming “Wheeeeeeee!!” When you’re driving this thing flat out, you are millimeters from being completely and utterly out of control which makes this car so adorable and forms the biggest chunk of its absolutely delightful appeal. This car should come with a Statutory Warning Sticker that says “Will cause dangerously hysterical laughs. For Safety reasons, it must be driven under the supervision of people who have no sense of adventure”.

Secondly, since the car is tiny – as wide as Mona Lisa’s smile and a wheelbase as long as the life expectancy of minor characters in a Matthew Reilly novel, the Clio is simply invincible when the track is chock full of abrupt 90-degree corners and U-turns and narrow lanes. You can bring any car you like. You simply cannot catch a Clio V6 on a twisty track.

Then there’s the exhaust noise. It faintly resembles the Ferrari F430’s low-rev bellow before it goes all seductive but the Clio V6 is so thuggishly loud; the astonishing racket it makes will leave you feeling like an eight year old let inside Charlie’s Chocolate Factory. Or a seventeen year old let inside the Cheerleaders changing room, whatever makes you happy. There is no subtlety about it, no attempt at pseudo-refinement like the pitiful SLR McLaren-Mercedes. Its only purpose, like everything else on the Clio V6 including the cheeky looks, is to put a silly grin on your face whenever you even think of the car.

So why is it only third-best? Well, for starters, you will be distinctly disadvantaged while racing this car on tracks with long straights because there is a noticeable lack of power towards the Clio’s top-end. More importantly, it is too easy to completely ruin your lap in this car. You only need to lightly brush against an oncoming car or a barrier and you’ll be going sideways in no time aided and abetted by the car’s short wheelbase; backwards if you’re unlucky. And when that happens, there’s no bringing it back. There’s nothing you can do except restart the race – as I must have done about six hundred times when I was trying to get it round the track for its Power Lap time. Honestly, it drove me nuts. I felt so relieved after I got the figures, not because I didn’t have to try again but because I didn’t have to be angry at this car anymore. All in all, effing good job, Renault! Viva la France!