The Fiat Idea is what is known as a mini-MPV. In fact, it is probably more of a supermini-MPV. If you suspect that I am resorting to marketing jargon because I don't quite know what I am talking about, then you suspect right. I don't really get the Idea.
So let's talk jargon. The mini-MPV, as I understand it, is an odd but surprisingly popular automobile sector, pioneered by the Renault Scenic, into which most manufacturers have now waded. The old-school MPV, or multi-purpose vehicle (or people-mover to you and me), had as its principal attraction the ability to seat seven people. When you take an MPV and shrink it down until it seats just five, or in the case of the Idea, four people and one homunculus, you get a mini-MPV, or what used to be called a car.
To be fair, certain key features of the people-mover do survive the miniaturisation process. The Idea is just as unprepossessing from the outside as its full-size cousins. There is the slightly elevated seating position, the snub bonnet, the expanse of glass and the general sensation that you are cruising down the motorway atop a giant, transparent egg. Whether this makes you feel powerful or intensely vulnerable is, I suppose, a matter of one's psychological make-up, but the Idea manages to recreate the MPV experience fairly effectively, albeit on a much smaller scale. From the driver's seat you can't see the bonnet at all. In fact, you can't see any of the exterior from the interior; no bad thing if you ordered it in metallic batik orange.
Such has been the reclamation of space that the inside of the Idea actually seems bigger than the area described by its outside. This Tardis-like quality can be disorientating. It feels as if you are parking a minibus; only when you step out do you wonder why you made such a meal of it. Some of the space has been used rather ingeniously - the dials and displays are in the centre of the dashboard, the driver's seat is tall and comfortable. There's also a surprising amount of headroom, a decidedly less practical consideration. Do cars really need high ceilings, like drawing rooms? I suppose it might buy you a few extra minutes of life if you accidentally drove into a lake. On the other hand, the pedals are very small and too close together. Perhaps they wanted to make them seem really far away.
So what is the Idea? Is it a family car? I managed to cram in a family of five, plus a dog in the boot, but our youngest child will not be of homuncular proportions for ever (fingers crossed) and the dog was not at all enthusiastic about her allotted cubic feet. The engine - perky enough when you're alone - is decidedly sluggish when you've got bums on all the seats. While no one actually complained about the lack of space, I think we all realised that the novelty of weaving through Dorset in what looks like a shiny copper kettle was the only thing keeping us civil. The interior-hugging exterior is not without its obvious advantages: to drive through Dorset at this time of year is to constitute a material disruption to the free pursuit of agriculture. When a tractor bears down on you, it's nice to be able to become flush with the hedge.
What a car like the Idea is meant to offer is flexibility: you can fold down the homunculus seat to make a central armrest with its own cup-holder. You can fold away all the back seats and slide them forward to give you something like a usable boot. The front seats can become little tables. You can deploy a "couchette" arrangement which allows two people to lie flat. In fact there are an alleged 32 distinct seat configurations, and the interior boasts no less than 24 diverse storage compartments to house all your notions and oddments. The brochure shows people loading their Ideas with surfboards and large abstract oil paintings.
It's true that the Idea gives you many choices, but most of them are tough choices. You can carry passengers or their luggage, but not both. You can make a table for your laptop, but somebody will have to stand outside while you work. It's a cup-holder or an ashtray. You must decide.
Essentially, this seems to be a car for people who don't know what they want. This is undoubtedly a growing demographic, but it's one that by definition has trouble making up its mind. Fiat's first ever mini-MPV has come to market rather late in the game. There is a lot of competition out there, and a general feeling that the whole genre may be rather short-lived, what with tiny scaled-down SUVs destined to be the next small thing. Knowing all this, it's hard not to feel a little bit sorry for the Idea while you're driving it, though it handles well and can, with a little imagination, be temporarily configured into a small independent production company office. I have an urge to defend it, to roll down the window and shout "It's really much roomier than it looks!" or "You can't even tell it's orange from inside!" I don't know. It must have seemed like a good Idea at the time.
The lowdown
Fiat Idea 1.4
Price: £9,995
Top speed: 109mph
Acceleration: 0-62mph in 11.5 secs
Consumption: 42.8mpg
At the wheel: Father of (literally) 2.4 children
On the stereo: Test Match Special
En route for: Homebase (second trip of the day)
