Peugeot's One Thousand and Seven is full of quirky ideas - like abandoning the trademark single zero - but then the Belfort Lion has long been at the innovative edge, boasting firsts such as double overhead camshafts and four valves per cylinder way back in 1912.
The novelty factor and high spec level will attract a select audience but the 1007's price might frighten off a few: R159 900 is a heap of tin for a 1.6-litre, four/five seater with only two doors, even if they are pretty special.
They slide, you see, with power and by remote control if you want; a granted boon on overcrowded and narrow European streets; they proved their worth a couple of times with me, too - first in my narrow driveway with a pair of cars parked side by side and again in those shopping centre bays that seem to have been designed by same people who created SAA's economy-class seating.
The 1007 is also only 3730mm long, which means you can fit in just about anywhere.
Once over the novelty of the doors, it's an easy climb aboard the 1007. Even access to the sliding and folding rear seats isn't difficult.
The neat fascia has a big central speedometer flanked by intersecting rev counter and fuel gauge. There's no temperature gauge (seems to be the fashion) but instead a little light will let you know if you're running hot - by which time you've probably already cooked the motor.
Why d'ya think it's called an "idiot light"?
The leather-bound, three-spoked steering wheel houses one of seven crash bags and its column carries two paddles, more of which later.
Close the door by tugging the handle - the electrics take over immediately - or flick a switch on the fascia. The windows are also power-operated.
The proud, chromed gear lever offers nothing more than +/-, N and R. No clutch pedal, despite the 1007 having a clutch; it's a pukka sequential gearbox that doesn't require footwork.
The air vents are surrounded by colour-coded clip-ons that can be swopped, as can the fabric panels and fascia-top decoration - don't choose orange, it reflects terribly on the windscreen.
"Is this your car, sir?" Yes. "But yesterday the interior was blue."
It was an awkward moment. Mr Plod: "I'm afraid you'll have to come with me, sir..."
Under the 1007's sloping bonnet, in front of the huge windscreen and behind giant lights, is a lively 1587cc quad-valve, four-cylinder engine, strapped sideways and offering 80kW at a respectably low 5750rpm with 149Nm of torque at four thou.
Jury out on gearbox
That would be pretty good under normal circumstances, but the jury's still out when it comes to the 2-Tronic five-speed sequential . You see, the clutch is engaged as a normal clutch - but not by you.
There are several versions of the system already on the market, including that in the Alfa Romeo Selespeed; this one's just very slow, presumably to prevent too much torque getting to the front driving wheels and any consequent damage.
Once you're used to it, you can sort of anticipate it, using the paddles on the steering wheel - but there's enough stress around without having to anxiously await the next cog swop of your One Thousand and Seven's gearbox.
I'd be happier with a traditional torque-converter full auto, or even a real clutch and five manual cogs.
Good road manners
Out on the open road, the 1007 displays good manners: 0-100km/h officially takes more than 12 seconds and on a road where it's legal, will get to 190 at the far end of the scale.
It's a gentle ride, as is the French wont, and the 1007 is stopped by discs on each wheel with ABS and other electronics. You should get about seven litres/100km out there, climbing to about nine or so in town.
The price includes a three-year/100 000km warranty, Peugeot Assistance, a free 15 000km oil check and 30 000km service intervals.
The acid test, though: are we ready for the Peugeot 1007 in a market so spoiled for choice? Yes... and no. There will definitely be those out there who want leading-edge style and flair but will they be prepared to part with R160 000 to get it?
- Why One Thousand and Seven? Well, Peugeot doesn't want any allusions to a certain secret agent with a penchant for exotic women, shaken Martinis and cars.
Anyway, that would certainly Gaul the French and their "perfide Albion" reputation. - Daily News