Is it a classic? Citroën C4 Cactus

I should point out that I enjoyed a long-term relationship with a C4 Cactus, racking up 14,000 miles over a period of ten months for Diesel & Eco Car magazine. Citroën allowed me to ‘build my own’ car, so I chose a mid-spec Feel in pearlescent white with chocolate Airbump panels. I wanted the lowest grade possible, but thanks to the unique way in which a Citroën spec list is constructed, I ended up with a £19,000 car – not quite the headline-grabbing price of £12,990. Still, I did opt for the Airdream pack, which exchanged 16-inch alloys for 15-inch black steelies with black clip-on covers. The promise of 82g/km CO2 emissions and 91.1mpg didn’t materialise, but I did achieve 57.4mpg over ten months, which included an epic road trip to the Austrian Alps and a return leg via the Klausen Pass. I wanted to keep the Cactus, but the prickly subject of freelance funds meant I had to return it. Reader, if you happen to see KW15 KKO on your travels, please get in touch. I’d welcome a chance to be reunited with ‘my’ car. Thank you.

The C4 Cactus divides opinion like a yeast extract. Some people are unable to look beyond the challenging styling, while others will point to the car’s many flaws. Some of these imperfections were the result of Citroën’s obsession with weight saving, like the pop-out rear windows, which saved 11kg. Or the single-piece folding rear bench, which saved a further 6kg. Citroën had the sense to add a split-folding bench to later cars, but rear-seat passengers were never able to wind down the window. To the list of annoyances, I’d add the absence of an air vent on the passenger side of the car, no airflow for rear-seat passengers, a poor driving position made worse by a steering wheel with no adjustment for reach, a tiny cupholder (and none in the back), too much reliance on the infotainment system for primary functions and a pointless storage area in the front armrest. Love is blind, so I learned to live with these problems, not least because the pros outweighed the cons.

It's the little things, like the suitcase-inspired Top Box, made possible by moving the passenger airbag to the roof. Building the washer jets into the wiper blade tips was another neat trick, as was a panoramic sunroof with the protection of category four sunglasses, which removed the need for a blind. Oh, and the luggage-style strap door handles and retro instrument panel were delightful.

The Airbump panels – thermoplastic polyurethane pockets of air – could be ordered in one of four colours. Citroën missed a trick by not offering a Marmite option, because they’re probably the most controversial part of the C4 Cactus experience. I never encountered any runaway shopping trolleys, so I can’t vouch for their effectiveness, but Citroën’s decision to tone them down for the facelifted C4 Cactus, before ditching them on the new C4, suggests there are more haters than lovers. Haters gonna hate, etc; I wore my chocolate bumps with pride.

Some will argue that it’s too early to predict classic status for the C4 Cactus, while others will see it as an example of innovative thinking at the budget end of the market. Like the current Suzuki Ignis, the C4 Cactus shows that cheap doesn’t necessarily mean undesirable. Eight years on, the feelgood factor of the interior is on a par, if not higher, than any sub-£20,000 new car, while the fuel economy figures remain impressive. The 200kg slim-fast diet paid off. Today, it continues to shed pounds, so you can buy one for around £2,500.

Whether you love it or hate it, the Citroën C4 Cactus remains one of the most interesting cars of the 21st century.

This article first appeared in issue 9 of Classic.Retro.Modern. magazine.