



A pocket-sized convertible tuned by the house that made giant-killing its whole business model.
Thumb the roof release and the canvas top peels back in under fifteen seconds, no fuss, just a mechanical fold that finishes before you've had time to reconsider. What's left is a cabin that puts you closer to the road than almost anything else in this fleet, four seats packed into a footprint that laughs at parking restrictions built for bigger cars entirely.
The turbocharged four-cylinder under the rear seats doesn't sound like it's making 165 PS. It sounds like it's making considerably more, an exhaust note that cracks and pops on the overrun in a way most modern hot hatches spend real money trying to synthesise. Point it down a tight lane and the steering answers immediately, no slack to work through first, the short wheelbase turning what would be a five-point turn in a larger car into one clean arc. A five-speed manual keeps the whole experience mechanical and direct, the kind of gearbox that rewards a driver who actually wants to be involved rather than one looking to be chauffeured.
This isn't the car for a motorway crossing or a formal arrival. It's the one for the town centre nothing else in this fleet can reach comfortably, the alley that swallows wing mirrors whole, the parking spot every other rental would have driven straight past. Small on purpose, and entirely unbothered by what that means for anyone following behind.