A stylish, simple to maintain modern classic for peanuts – if you can still find one today
A not quite beautiful little car, the Megane Coupé was nevertheless pleasing enough on the eye, and the wallet, to sell in surprising numbers for a machine of compromised practicality.
The compromise was a boot as usable as the darker recesses of an understair cupboard, but, the two-door Megane cost little more than the five-door and for this you got a distinctive, well-kitted car that looked decidedly more glamorous. And being a derivative of one of Renault’s best-sellers, it didn’t cost any more to run or insure.
Such practicalities matter, and were a major reason why there were once so many of these coupes on the road in the early 2000s, many of them in yellow. In fact, one of them belonged to your reporter, an acquisition that garnered me a fair bit of stick from surprised colleagues.
My defence was this: I wanted the least uninteresting, nearly new car I could buy for my budget, a car with a warranty and a car that was unlikely to go wrong. At the time that ruled out almost everything apart from the hot new Ford Puma, which was too expensive.
And as a freshly starting freelancer I’d managed to suppress the cravings for something older and more exciting on the grounds that I needed to be sure of getting to point B from point A.
The surprise at my choice stemmed from the not-so-hidden truth about this Megane and the many affordable coupes that have come before it.
Which is that they’re all heavily based on ordinary family machinery for reasons of manufacturing cost – that’s what made them affordable – and that few delivered the dynamic excitement implied by their rakish looks, at least in standard form.
Still, the Megane was in good company with the Ford Mustang, Ford Capri, Vauxhall Calibra, Toyota Celica and heaps of others, the fine mannered, Fiesta-based Ford Puma a rare exception.
In the Renault’s case, then, you got croque monsieur mechanicals in a Patrick Le Quement wrap. Le Quement, in case you’re suddenly referencing French fashion designers, was Renault’s chief designer from 1987 to 2009.
He joined Renault on the condition that he reported directly to the boss, and that design would no longer be subservient to engineering.
He got his way, which was how Renault switched from being the makers of some of Europe’s dullest cars – the 19, 21 and Safrane will be among those that you have forgotten – to some of its most intriguing.
These include the first Twingo, the Scenic, Laguna, the Vel Satis (I said intriguing, not beautiful) and the ultra-bold Avantime. Against this array the Megane looked relatively conventional, if a load fresher than many of its contemporaries.
The disappointment came with the driving. The Megane’s slightly odd driving position didn’t help, the steering wheel angled too far off the vertical for real comfort, but mostly, it was the sheer averageness of everything it did that left you feeling numbly frustrated.
Its 1.4 and 1.6 so-called Energy engines delivered quite good go, quite good economy, and quite good refinement. The handling was quite good too, and so was the steering. The ride was upsetting if you knew anything of Renault’s once super-supple saloons, however.
So this was a car that did the job, but a car only capable of firing desire through design, from pertly clipped rump to intriguingly split grille and the (slight) raciness of its shortened wheelbase.
It was good value, too, especially in lower-powered, lower-priced form. Most versions delivered you alloys, remote central locking and electric motors to power not only the front windows but also the hinged rear side glazing.
Glance over your shoulder and you’d see a rear seat sportily sculpted to seat two in knee-pinching semi-comfort, your posterior enjoying part-leather upholstery, the view ahead brightened by funky white-faced instruments.
All of which helped the lesser Megane coupe to a popularity that the powerful 16-valve, a flawed version that must be close to extinct, never enjoyed. Shockingly, extinction appears to beckon for the lesser models too, a brief trawl netting less than a handful.
This is a car that deserves to be preserved for its look, and right now I’m genuinely regretting not succumbing to the allure of the 22,000-mile £1500 version I saw a few months ago. In yellow, of course.
