The new C30 seeks to bring Volvo back to the mass market.

Volvo seems to be having a personality crisis. Not quite prestige enough to compete with the big German executive three, but that bit too posh to slum it with the mass market Fords and Vauxhalls. It’s a quandary similar to that faced by Rover in the not too distant past, and the fate of that last mass British mark is well known. Can the Swedes fare any better in an increasingly competitive market?

The C30 certainly seems to suggest that they have a plan. Described by Volvo’s marketing team at launch, with a refreshing honesty, as “a very non-Volvo product,” the compact hatch sees Volvo throwing aside its reliable, middle-aged, pipe and slippers (but in a road-going tank) image and reaching out to the sub-35, childless urban professional demographic so ably captured by the BMW 1-series and Audi A3.

Design-wise, this is as far from a traditional Volvo as one could imagine. The snub nose may be borrowed from its larger siblings in the current range, but elsewhere discreet spoilers, chunky 17-inch tyres (16-inch on standard models), and a tapered glass rear framed by rear lights that climb up either pillar scream ‘hot hatch’ more than ‘taking little Jemima’s worldly belongings back to Cheltenham Ladies’ College for the summer term, while simultaneously transferring the entire Labrador brood to Sandringham for the opening of the grouse season.”

The looks work. The wobbly back end, not a million miles from the ass-shaking reskinned Renault Mégane, takes a little getting used to, but the number of “that’s never a Volvo?” comments aimed in my direction while testing it show that they have certainly shaken off the staid image with this model.

The question, though, is whether or not the C30 will tempt sufficient buyers to make this dramatic step out of line worthwhile in the ultra-competitive compact hatchback market. With underpinnings borrowed largely from the parent company’s Focus, reliability shouldn’t be an option, although the purists may see this as in some way detracting from the cars cachet (whether the same purists would note the crossovers between VW and Audis models in a similarly disparaging vein is open to question), while the interior seems more in keeping with that of a larger executive saloon. Plush leather seats offer the sort of comfort Volvo is renowned for, and the front passengers have ample leg room. A simple but functional fascia and floating centre console, coupled with steering wheel mounted controls for most in-car functions (which are plentiful on the fully kitted SE model tested), may not win any awards for flamboyance, but stick soundly to Swedish principles of simplicity through design.

It’s a shame the equipment itself doesn’t fare quite so well in the simplicity stakes. The satnav system, for example, left this reviewer completely flummoxed, and despite enlisting the assistance of those far more tech-savvy than himself, a week passed without actually having successfully advanced beyond the welcome screen, while the process of popping up from the dashboard and switching seemed to take place, or not take place, on an entirely random basis.

Rear seat passengers don’t fare quite so well, either. Volvo have gone some way to addressing the space issues caused by the tapered rear end by installing two separate rear seats rather than the traditional threeperson bench - their thinking no doubt in part governed by the fact that the target market are likely to be occasional, rather
than frequent, rear seat users - and space is adequate without being generous, and unlikely to please anyone expected to use the back seats on frequent long journeys.

The boot suffers similarly at the hands of the car’s admittedly striking design. The aforementioned extended rear light cluster mean that only the central glass section between the two thick side pillars actually opens, resulting in a somewhat restricted access hatch giving way to a far from generous boot. With rear seats folded, the
capacity does increase significantly, but loading anything of an ungainly shape or size through the porthole-like hatch is likely to prove a challenge regardless of the space available beyond.

The ride itself is comfortable enough, and the model tested had a fair punch from standing which could almost lull the driver into forgetting this was a diesel. Sporty is the intention here, and although a just sub-10 second 0-60 sprint may not excite the budding Schumachers out there, it should be sufficient to put a smile on most day-to-day drivers’ faces. The gear change is not the smoothest, and this is exacerbated by, at least on the model tested, a peculiar juddering from the pedal when depressing the clutch. The lack of a left foot rest too seems a strange omission – a tiny
detail, admittedly, but these simple, and presumably remarkably cheap, devices can be a god send on long motorway journeys, and in a cockpit where plush leather, heated seats and shiny aluminium and chrome are the norm, it seems a strange oversight.

To some degree this is all nit-picking though. This is after all a compact, everyday hatchback aimed towards the upper end of that market rather than a bank-busting sporting monster or executive saloon. For it’s class, it performs admirably, while the safety features that have become synonymous with the mark, including multiple air bags, ABS and whiplash protection headrests, come as standard on all models.

An entry level price of below £15,000 for the 1.6 S, coupled with combined fuel consumption of an impressive 57.6 mpg for the equivalent entry level diesel, meanwhile, should make it one to consider for fleet managers looking in the compact hatchback range, and the historically competitive residuals the brand enjoys should tick some of the right boxes too.

Verdict

Certainly breaks the Volvo mould, and should give the A3 and 1-series a run for their money.