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This is a C5 that it's OK to like

The mention of the name "C5" in a vehicular context is unlikely to prompt thoughts of sumptuous ease in anyone who is over 35. Instead, the image that will almost certainly spring to mind is of the Sinclair C5, the 80s electric tricycle that became a comic byword for bad design.

Rest assured, that C5 did not have a back massager, though anyone foolhardy enough to squeeze into one could have done with a little muscular manipulation.

The Citroën C5, by contrast, does have a back massager, as well as heated seats. I didn't realise this on my first drive. Running late to meet a friend, I didn't at first take much notice of the pleasurable warmth around my bottom. Nor did I immediately appreciate the undulating sensation in the small of my back. But gradually I became aware of the rhythmic movement, as it crept up on me like Górecki's Third Symphony or a furtive masseuse. After a while I began to wonder what that dull pressure was on my spine and why my bum was so hot.

Was this it? Was I finally experiencing the nervous breakdown I've spent years working towards? If so, then it was not unpleasant. Indeed, if you were thinking of having a nervous breakdown, I'd recommend the C5 as an ideal venue to ameliorate the harsher physical manifestations of personal crisis.

In fact, once you get used to the slightly odd automatic gear stick, I'd wager that it would be a stiff challenge to crack up in this C5. OK, you've made a mess of your private life, but just feel that smooth leather. Your career is going nowhere. Too bad, but check out the leg room. No one likes you - know that feeling, still, that pneumatic suspension is a joy to behold.

While Francophiles have plenty to choose from among hatchbacks and smaller cars, it's been a while since Citroën produced a classy larger model of any repute. And you'd have to go back all the way to the DS, with its distinctive, long bonnet, to a time when Citroën led the field.

The C5 is a self-conscious attempt to loosen the forearm nelson in which the German motor industry has the higher-end saloon market so effectively locked. Citroën even boasts of its "Teutonic-like levels of quality", which amounts to a public acknowledgment of what the public already believes - that the Germans do it better.

But in this case the French have produced something that in comfort, if perhaps not performance, rivals an Audi or BMW. While it may not possess the iconic appeal of the DS, the C5 is undoubtedly handsome. If that doesn't massage the ego, then just feel what it can do for your back.

Citroën C5 2.7 HDI V6

Price £24,395
Top speed 139mph
Acceleration 0-62 in 9.6 seconds
Average consumption 33.6mpg
CO2 emissions 223g/km
Eco rating 5/10
At the wheel Sebastian Faulks
Bound for The Dordogne
In a word Teutonique

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Is the future a Smart one?

From its debut 10 years ago, the Smart Fortwo has looked like a prototype for a future that is about to arrive but never does. Envisaged as a sort of 2CV for the 21st century, the Smart concept originated with Swatch, the watch company. It formed an alliance with Mercedes but when the project failed to live up to expectations, and ran up large financial losses, the Swiss timekeepers called time.

Subsequently, Mercedes worked on creating greater fuel economy for the Smart Fortwo, the standard two-seater, and produced a hybrid version. Yet perhaps the car's major contribution to transport culture has been the slightly irritating habit of parking nose outwards - even though it is not quite short enough to fit within a standard resident's bay.

Though obviously a major development in space economy, it wasn't quite enough to compensate for the fact that you were driving around in what is effectively a mobile SpongeBob SquarePants outfit. Not that there's anything wrong in looking weird, but it helps if it's for a worthwhile purpose. Now Smart hopes it has found that purpose, in other words that the future has finally arrived. For the new Smart Fortwo Ed - currently available only on lease to corporate "partners" - is completely electric.

As with the G-Wiz, it's charged from the mains - ie, you juice it up overnight and drive during the day. There are two problems with this. First, an extension lead running from your house is a tempting target for vandals. The other is range. This is not a car for long journeys, or indeed medium-sized ones, especially if you're using the radio, lights, heating and wipers. On a full charge, Smart says, it should do 70 miles. I tried it on full tilt and the power quickly began to drain. Had I gone much farther, I'd have come to a halt like a bumper car that's lost its connection. Only in this case, there are no teddy boys to jump on the back and restart the thing.

The look of the car is the same as earlier petrol versions. The interior still seems as if it was assembled from an office clearance in 1993. The steering is a touch heavy, though this is reassuring because you sense if it were any more nimble, the car might tip over at speed. And it boasts a top speed of 60mph, a whole 10mph faster than the G-Wiz. Getting there takes perseverance, but it is oddly exhilarating. Not since I was a teenager and I drove down Muswell Hill in a milk float have I got such a buzz from an electric vehicle.

But that's not the point. This is a city car, fit only for short trips. That's fine, but in terms of the future - it's not available until 2012 - it already feels a little dated.

Smart Fortwo Ed

Price £375/month for lease to companies
Top speed 60mph
Acceleration 0-30mph in 6.5 secondss
Average consumption Zero fossil fuel, but costs equivalent of 300mpg
CO2 emissions Zero
Eco rating 10/10
At the wheel Sheldon Plankton
Bound for Electric
In a word Plucky

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The Colt 1.3 has limited power but plenty of punch

For about four days the little Colt sat outside my house, buried beneath a thick blanket of snow. As the street became a whiteout, the other cars remained recognisably cars in outline, but the Colt just morphed into a small crystalline mound. If someone had stuck a carrot in its covering, it would have passed as a snowman.

The thought of actually getting in and driving the frozen mound seemed more bizarre, and less appealing, with each passing day. What if I got lost in a snowball fight? It could be days before I was dug out. To put it bluntly, the Mitsubishi Colt CZ2 is not the sort of car in which you'd want to be trapped in adverse weather conditions.

Indeed, being trapped in a traffic jam would severely test the limits of its charms. This is a no-frills, practical machine, which has not been designed with stationary appeal in mind. Everything is in its proper place, but there isn't much of it. This three-door midget is refreshingly rudimentary, both in comfort and layout. It has no pretensions and it doesn't pretend otherwise. If you want something in addition to functional transportation, the Colt is not for you. All of which means that every moment not spent moving forward in the Colt is a lost moment.

However, with the snow finally thawed, the time to move forward had arrived and I resolved to drive my wife and daughter to the airport, where they were bound for warmer climes. Then, on opening the boot, I had second thoughts. I knew I could fit the family and I knew I could fit the luggage; I just wasn't confident I could do both together.

It turned out that all those years of manfully maximising the dishwasher load were not wasted. All it took was some keen spatial awareness and inspired geometric improvisation, and we were away.

For its limited power, the car has plenty of punch. Like a lot of superminis, the Colt is almost impossible to drive passively. There's something about the lively proximity to the engine and the fact that everything on the road is so much larger that creates a sense of "who you lookin' at, pal?" embattlement.

Within minutes, I'd become the automotive equivalent of the combative little Glaswegian, unwilling to be pushed around by lardy-arsed SUVs. Once we hit the M4, however, this refusal to back down began to look demented, especially against some of the more high-powered executive saloons. There can be few more pathetic or disturbing sights on the highway than a middle-aged man in a crammed three-door Colt trying to outgun a Lexus.

Beware the abominable snowman: it won't let you chill.

Mitsubishi Colt 1.3 cz2

Price £8,249
top speed 110mph
Acceleration 0-62mph in 11 secs
Average consumption 48.7mpg
CO2 emissions 138g/km
Eco rating 8.5/10
At the wheel Raymond Briggs
Bound for Snowdonia
In a word Plucky

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This is a cynical conclusion to reach, but advertising campaigns may not always be an accurate reflection of life

The new Renault Mégane Coupé is slightly odd-looking, a squat wedge shape with a bum bag of a boot. Not unattractive, but not a head-turner. The idea that its design is so radical that it will cause strangers to seek out the owner is not borne out by experience.

Time and again, as I walked up to the car, all but waving the remote key in the air, members of the public did not ask, "Is that your car?" I gave them every opportunity, loitering next to the driver's door, or needlessly putting something in the boot and removing it, but not a word, no inquiries, nothing.

It may be a cynical conclusion to reach, but this seemed to suggest that advertising campaigns are not always an accurate reflection of life. With that sobering thought in mind, I set about the more mundane task of actually driving the car.

The key thing about updates, of course, is that they should make their predecessors look dated. The Mégane has never been the most adventurous of vehicles, but the earlier incarnations, though successful, now appear lumpenly bland.

This new model, with its nose pointing downwards, seems like an animal impatient to charge off into the future. But to satisfy that impatience you must first locate the press-button ignition. One of the charms of modern car design is its reluctance to submit to the convenience of convention.

After you've tried programming a few different satnavs, or working out where the release is for the fuel tank plug in several makes of car, or had to wonder at the whereabouts of various switches to wind down windows, you appreciate the effort that goes into avoiding the obvious.

So it is with the ignition button, which turns up on the passenger's side of the gear stick. The ignition finally engaged, the impatience is soon felt in the gear changes. Get your revs slightly wrong and there are some jumpy shifts at low speed. The taut suspension adds to the sense in an urban setting of a machine straining at the leash. Mm, you think, this is going to be fun.

However, there are notably diminishing returns as you speed up. On the motorway the sixth gear turns out to be less the batmobile hyperdrive option that it usually represents in such cars, and more a strict necessity. In short, the Mégane Coupé accelerates towards comfortable normality.

Perhaps the adverts are right after all and it's best experienced at rest. In any case, when I arrived at my hotel, a porter asked me if it was my car. I nodded with what I hoped was blasé pride. "Could you move it away from the fire gate?" he said. Well, at least he noticed.

Renault Mégane Coupé TCE 180

Price £18,644
Top speed 143mph
Acceleration 0-62mph in 7.8 seconds
Average consumption 37.2mpg
CO2 emissions 178g/km
Eco rating 6.5
At the wheel Paul McCann
Bound for Cheshire
In a word Curious

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