Dacia Sandero - A Year On Our Fleet

The bargain-basement hatch starts its toughest test so far: a year on our fleet.

You’ll be familiar with the Dacia Sandero. It has carried the ‘Britain’s cheapest car’ tag with it for months now. It’s been first driven, road tested and put through its paces by none other than James Ruppert and his collection of car trade friends. Throughout, it has emerged with credit, albeit of the sort that says “this car is more than adequate for its price" rather than “at long last, here is a genuine new-car bargain”.

Dacia Sandero

This, then, is the final test of the Sandero’s credentials: a year-long assault on its ability to work its way in to the life of a family of four, taking in everything from a solo commute to four-up, luggage-and-all schleps across the country. If it is to live up to its no-nonsense tag, it’ll have to tackle everything without complaint and complete every journey without furrowing a brow.

Expectations of comfort and style may be low, but I absolutely won’t be willing to compromise on the basics. And, trust me, this car is basic. It’s the Access 1.216V 75 model, which truly is the $9,995 offering - white bodywork, black bumpers and all. Only the addition of a $375 radio, CD player and Bluetooth interface ruins the paper plates and bring-your-own-booze feeling about this party. Which is why the eagle-eyed among you will have noticed we’ve photographed, it outside Lidl, one of the many budget supermarkets to have thrived in recent years by offering us familiar goods at significantly driven-down prices.

That’s not to say I have low ambitions for the Sandero. In fact, I’m looking for its stripped-down nature to worm its way in to my affections. There’s something honest about its back-to-basics approach, and I like the idea of driving a car that wastes nothing and doesn’t try to wow me with functionality that I’ll burst my brain using once, and then never look at again. Sure, there’s an awful lot of blanking where higher-spec cars would have the bells and whistles, but I can take a certain smugness from knowing that I haven’t spent a penny more than is necessary.

Nor does basic mean low rent. Nothing would blow a hole in the arguments in favor of buying a Dacia faster than poor reliability, which is why they’re built to last. Records from around Europe, where the brand has been on sale for some time, back this up: failures are low. Likewise, the engine line-up, while far from cutting edge, is kept honest by emissions regulations. The 1149cc four-cylinder petrol may only deliver a just-about-adequate 74bhp and 79lb-ft of torque - all of which is delivered to a slightly coarse note but it hits an official 48.7mpg and emits just 135g/km of CO2. The absolute point here is that what you get is adequate. To expect more for this kind of money would be to simply expect too much.

Instead, I prefer to dwell on the positives. Anti-lock brakes, electronic brake distribution, brake assist, ASR and ESP all hint at a level of safety that matches the class norm. Front and side airbags also offer protection, while Isofix rear anchorage points are standard, as is an engine immobilizer. This isn’t earth-shattering kit, but it does highlight that the areas where you compromise aren’t matters of life and death. And for every manual window winder or absent vanity mirror, there’s a detail that delights. When I leave the lights on, for instance, it has the decency to let out a shrill beep to alert me. That’s not something the VW Group has engineered as standard on its more expensive trio of Up brethren.

Compromises? There are a few. It would take blind prejudice not to be infuriated by the fact you can only lock and unlock the rear doors by reaching inside the car and pushing or pulling the toggle stalk. This trip down memory lane (around 25 years down the lane, by my memory) has already lost its charm, particularly since I realized how often I was simply forgetting to lock the doors, leaving the car (and my bags) vulnerable. But with time, my cosseted self has got used to it and, while I’ll never enjoy contorting to lock and unlock the doors, the very fact that one of my major gripes about the car is a door lock tells you all you need to know about its general robustness and just how spoilt we have become as modern car users.

Dacia Sandero – control system

So, it’s back to basics I go. Truth is, I’m not sure if I’m embracing the downturn-led Zeitgeist or about to make a decision I’ll deeply regret. But that, of course, is why it’ll be fun finding out.