Living with the Retro R4: Why the Renault 4 Earns Its Keep

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It won an award. Again.

So there it was. On paper. The Renault 4 E-Tech sitting in the winner’s circle for Small SUV of the Year. Not bad for a boxy relic reborn in electric flesh. Our test unit is at 2,486 miles. The efficiency clock ticks at 4.4mi/kWh. It’s an all-rounder. A charmer. Not perfect. But it fits.

The charming retro-themed Renault 4 has won the Small SUV category for the second year running.

You might have seen it in last week’s issue. It looked good among the elite, dressed in that specific shade of Hauts-de-France green with the Diamond Black roof. It takes a team to stage that sort of glamour shot, but the R4 pulled its weight.

The claustrophobia is just an illusion

When it first arrived? We felt boxed in. My husband and I. Like sardines in a very green can.

Wrong. It wasn’t the space. The R4 has room to burn. It was the windows. Small ones. Due to the boxy design language. That’s all. Once your brain adjusts, the visibility is fine. No issues. In fact, the cabin has become a favorite spot of mine.

Remember that black-and-gray scheme with yellow hits on the dash? Add to it the grey quilted headlining. It looks sharp. It matches the seat stitching but feels softer, lighter. Best part? It’s all recycled material. 100%. That sits right with me.

Space-wise, it feels huge for this class. Just us two most days, so the back seat has seen little action. But my 6ft 2in husband took the driving shot on the right. Plenty of headroom left. Legs weren’t cramping. Good sign.

Tech that actually works (mostly)

The dashboard layout? Clear. The 10.1-inch screen angles toward the driver. It doesn’t fight you.

We mostly ignore the phone links now. Why bother with CarPlay when the built-in Google software handles navigation so well? Though, linking up is a breeze. Which is useful when I want Spotify and my husband wants the radio. No battle required.

Then there is the gear selector.

A stalk behind the wheel. Standard auto layout. I hate it. Why? Because it’s black. Indistinct. At night, my hand grabs nothing. Air. My brain goes up for drive, down for reverse, just out of muscle memory habit. It fights that instinct. Good, honestly. Keeps me double-checking every single time. Safety by annoyance.

Driving: Pleasant. Not thrashing.

The R4 drives well. Don’t expect the heart-pounding drama of the Alfa Romeo we tested before. This is about ease. Smooth surfaces? No problem. The steering is light, responsive. Enough pep to merge. Enough calm for the motorway.

It’s not built for carving through tight country lanes. Yet, when we head out into the New Forest near home, it never seems scared. Just don’t hit the potholes. For everyone’s sake.

Three modes. Sport. Comfort. Eco.

We live in Comfort. Eco feels sluggish but stretches the range if you’re desperate. Sport? My husband uses it for overtaking. Says it makes life easier. I’ve yet to touch it. And one-pedal driving? Still untried. The brakes remain a sticking point. They bite hard. Sharp. My husband’s least favorite feature in the entire car.

A simple menu tweak saved us from an indicator chime loud enough to bruise teeth.

Speaking of things that get under your skin.

The turn signal noise. It blared. A constant, high-pitched judgment every time I changed lane. It ruined the vibe.

But Renault built in an escape hatch. Two menus down. Volume control for the chime. Three options. Set to low. Peace restored. Always check the manual before assuming hate.

A family car, not a toy

This thing hits a sweet spot. Competent. Cheaper than you’d think. Retro badge helps, obviously. The R5 is selling like hotcakes, pulling in EV newbies. The Twingo gets praise. Now the R4.

It’s the practical sibling. Bigger boot than the R5. More focused on comfort than nimbleness. Styling nods to the past, sure. Those bracket-like DRLs around the circular front lights? Very original R4. Even the grille lights up.

I picked up the car at Hendy Renault. No paper brochures anymore. Scan the QR code. Download the digital version. Done.

My top-spec Iconic+ model lists at £27,945 with the EV grant. Add £750 for the two-tone paint. That’s it. Every trim gets 249 miles of quoted range. Plenty of kit included. No need to cherry-pick extras just to make the car liveable.

First impressions vs. daily life

During handover, Jamie, the sales exec, showed off the avatar, Reno. It’s powered by ChatGPT. Meant to help. So far? A bit much. A bit annoying. But the 10-inch driver display next to it is good. Flows with the touchscreen. Power button right in the middle. Physical switches for climate control down low. Good. Tactile.

The interior balances hard plastics with that quilted textile. It lifts the feel. Simple. Straightforward. I like it.

And the seats. Smart, yes. But the real luxury is the electric lumbar control for the driver. For a car at this price? Unexpected. Nice touch.

Here’s where we stand:
* Price new: £30,945 (down to £27,195 with grant)
* Battery: 52kWh, 148bhp
* Insurance Group: 27
* Quote: £1,334 (for a 42yo in Banbury, 3 points)
* Efficiency: Hovering around 4.1 – 4.4 mi/kWh

Problems so far? None. The chime was fixed. The gear stick is just a puzzle now. The range is holding steady.

It’s an easy car. Too easy? Maybe. But for a first family EV that looks good doing nothing in particular…

What happens after the retro novelty wears off completely?