Mini Cooper VS Ford Fiesta

This is a Mini. But it’s the roomiest one ever without back doors.

Drop yourself inside one and you’ll be struck by the sheer change going on. Retro familiarity dominated by brash innovation.

Yes, it still has comparatively upright pillars, a centrally-sited circular display and a row of toggle switches within an otherwise sparse fascia, but that’s where the similarities between classic-old and brand-new cease.

All eyes are drawn to the modest 240mm (9.4-inch) central OLED display, which seems overwhelmingly busy at first glance, but becomes clear in design, intuitive in layout and functional to use in no time. BMW’s experience here is industry-leading.

The Mini deploys bright colours and fun symbols to further help operators know what does what, where and why, making this playful and sophisticated in execution. If only all screen-based multimedia and vehicle settings were this logical. So much so, in fact, that even a limited number of toggle switches, alongside the welcome volume knob and gear selector, are enough. You won’t miss them.

Now, the driving position is first class as you might expect, with that sitting-upright-in-a-box-with-plenty-of-glass-all-round-you sensation that’s been part of the Mini experience for decades. And, in Favoured guise, the JCW buckets are superb.

The small, low-placed wheel feels right, forward vision is excellent, nothing is too much of a stretch away, storage is generous for a car this size (with a largish glove box included) and ventilation proved to be reassuringly effective in the Baltic-esque conditions we tested the car in.

Of course, being a Mini, the Cooper boasts personalisation and customisation galore, including for some compelling screen backgrounds (one reminiscent of the Morris era) and the inevitable ambient lighting, while the standard, synthetic trim and textures are amongst the most interesting in any car. And it’s all really well put together in terms of aesthetics and build quality.

What’s not to like?

Well, for starters, the glass roof lacks a cover and that’s daft in Australia. Even on a freezing Melbourne day, the sun’s glare can be too much. The side pillars are a blind spot hazard, making those standard lane-support driver-assist safety alerts essential, so don’t disable them. The between-seat cubby feels flimsy and has a lid facing the wrong way from the driver - that’s just plain lazy, BMW. And we’re glad the head-up display directly ahead of the driver is included because the digital speedo in the centre screen strays too far from some drivers’ comfortable sight lines.

Now, there’s no point complaining about the four-person Cooper 3dr’s rear seat packaging, as there’s a massive hint in this car’s name.

But while there’s sufficient room for two larger people, the two fixed positions are best for kids only. Their backrests are a tad too upright for adult comfort. There are basically no amenities present and the side windows do not crack open. Have carmakers forgotten how? Bare and basic sums it up back there. Oh, and entry/egress is impeded by painfully slow-moving electric front seats and narrow apertures to squeeze through.

Finally, there’s the cargo area, which mirrors the previous versions with a volume of just 210 litres (VDA), rising to about 800L with the 60/40 twin backrests folded. You don’t buy a Mini for practicality. And while there’s hidden storage, no spare wheel exists, remember. Just a fiddly tyre repair kit.

Still, the Cooper’s overall cabin execution is ultra-fresh yet still reassuringly on-brand, with enough interesting new details and technologies to justify updating from an older model. An inside job well done.

This isn’t a big car, nor is it particularly magical in the way it’s packaged. It’s focused on the front two passengers, so is best meant for a single or couple. This is most obviously reflected in the awesome Recaro seats, which you have to drop yourself into due to the high and firm bolstering.

Still, even for front passengers it’s tight, with little arm-flailing room, and minimal cabin storage.

There’s two centre cupholders, which can barely hold a large cappuccino, tiny bottle-holders in the doors, a small centre console box, but a decently sized binnacle under the climate controls where my wallet, keys and phone spent most of the week. The glovebox is also so small that the collection of manuals which live in there had to be bent out of shape to fit.

Amenity-wise you get one USB port and one 12V power outlet next to the gearknob, and one USB port in the centre console.

The Fiesta is tall, so at least no occupant is left wanting for headroom. That having been said, the rear seats are tight. Behind my own seating position, my 182cm tall frame had knees up against the seat in front, and entry/egress to the rear is a little tight. I’d hardly recommend placing an adult in the centre seat. Unsurprisingly, rear-seat passengers get next to no amenities. There are no power outlets or adjustable vents, leaving them with only a pair of pitifully small cupholders in the doors and rear-seat pockets. Still, the fact it has rear doors at all is something, and gives it at least the ability to carry four adults without too much trouble getting them in or out for quick urban journeys.

Boot space has been expanded 21 litres over the previous Fiesta to now offer 311 litres (VDA) of space. This is actually pretty impressive and held our largest 124L CarsGuide travel case with ease.

Under the floor there is a space-saver spare wheel.