Hot hatch shootout: whitting the best six down to just three

Expectations appear to have been confounded. Admittedly, we might have suspected that some of the members of our final six would be present, but the loss of some of the early favourites is still a bit of a shock. The arguments, however, have been sound, and although TopGear science may be a little laissez-faire, the results have been broadly unanimous, bar a few curses: Golf R, Civic Type R, Megane Trophy, Fiesta ST, Audi S1 and Leon Cupra Estate. The last one perhaps more of a surprise, but a welcome one.

Which means that there’s a merry little band accelerating onto the M90 north. An endlessly interesting and disparate little troupe, FWD and 4WD, little, big, estate and all turbo, which threads up to Perth, and then hacks right and starts to exercise itself on the kind of roads hot hatches were made for. Welcome to the real world. This is where we’ll get really subjective. The nit-picking will be weapons-grade.

Read the rest of TG’s quest to find the best hot hatch on sale in the UK:

Twenty become ten – Drag racing at Bruntingthorpe

Ten become six – Shakedown at Knockhill

Three becomes one – The final trio at the Applecross Pass

The first few miles are easy. In keeping with our declaration that a decent hot hatch should be more than capable of dealing with dull commuting, there’s not a car here that can’t cope with a few miles on a motorway.

The Golf, Leon and S1 are the most mature, the least invasive and most relaxing, but it’s also worth noting that once you back the Civic off from full rabid mode, it has really quite excellent seats and a turbo ability to cruise along comfortably.

The Fiesta is less happy – but by no means bad – just a bit more prone to sidewinds and supermini acoustics. It’s only the Megane that you actually notice is determinedly sporty, in fact. A slight nervousness to the steering, a tendency to bobble on committed suspension. The generally old-feeling cabin and multimedia probably doesn’t help, either. But as we head off towards Scone and Coupar Angus on the A94, we’re eminently satisfied that any of these could be your only car.

Blairgowrie next, and the A93, Bridge of Cally and thence to some better roads. A bare 15 miles later, there are a fair few furrowed brows. According to the schedule, a car must be disposed of within the first two hours of the trip. And time is running out.

The problem is that every single person has jumped from their respective car happy and excited. Various people are dispatched to drive the same bit of road in different machines. By the time we reach the Spittal of Glenshee and take the old Military Road to the ski centre at the top, we have decided that the Seat Cupra Estate is the car that’s going to be the first and deepest cut.

This is not because it’s a bad car. To have wedged itself into the top six hot hatches in the UK is no mean feat, and there’s something about the Seat's blend of proper power, ease of use, interior maturity and good, old-fashioned fun that makes it a winner for what it was built for. Fitness for purpose bulging through the optional dog guard.

It’s also probably been the biggest surprise of the whole test. As both Dan Read and Ollie Marriage pointed out, it really is a kind of two-thirds-scale Audi RS4 Avant. But it’s also just a little bit grown-up to be the hot hatch of the year. Despite traction issues in the first two gears in the wet – which somewhat counter-intuitively make it feel more aggressive and exciting – and a properly fizzy dynamic showing at the circuit, it’s just not got the final piece of the puzzle to put it into the last throes.

A mighty showing, and we’re talking about least best rather than worst, but the blue estate is left parked next to a resting piste basher, and the keys deposited. Quite a few people cast longing glances as we drive away.

It’s a shame, because the next bit of road is properly Scottish, and one of the best routes in the UK. It’s more of the A93, up past Braemar and the Bridge of Gairn and then the A939 past Candacraig and Cock Bridge. Then it’s Tomintoul, and another bridge, this one the Bridge of Brown, and then towards Grantown-on-Spey. Big corners, steep hills, panoramic views. And it’s been sunny. And then dousing rain. And then sunny again.

Seriously, if you want a proper hell-test of a group of cars, I don’t think I’ve ever done one that’s been more comprehensive, or meteorologically confused. And before you know it, from the sweeping, flowing, glorious roads, we’ve got to lose another one. Argh.

This is where the first threads of temper start to fray. The problem comes because we’re getting into the realms of personal preference and driving style, and without objective targets any conversation can descend pretty rapidly into the verbal equivalent of sumo.

We give up on listing the good points – they all have a long list – and work from the bad bits. The Golf can be boring. The Fiesta needs more power. The Megane is too aggressive and has a grabby diff, and the Civic either does flat-out or numb and looks like it ram-raided an Essex nightclub. The S1 is a little unemotional, a bit po-faced on the road, despite being a manual and very, very fast.

But the Golf can change modes. The Fiesta is the kind of car where you carry speed rather than drag racing between bends. The Megane has the sweetest steering, the best chassis balance. The Civic, on the right road, is bloody phenomenal, no matter what it looks like, and the S1 can put the frighteners on much, much faster cars, while looking like… well… like nothing in particular. It’s a total sleeper.

Yet the S1 isn’t the one that has a particular champion. Everyone likes it. Respects it. Would be more than happy to own it. But it’s also the car that simply gets mentioned the least when people get excited. For that reason, and much to our collective surprise, the Audi S1 is dropped. As we steam off west, another slight pall is cast across the radio chatter – this is harder than we ever imagined. There’s a proper sense of loss as we shed cars. It’s like abandoning your pet dog at the side of the road.

It’s hard to stay grumpy, though. Scottish road-builders seem to have a little bit of artistry built into their soul, and when you meld that with the punch to the solar plexus that is the scenery here, you’re on to a winner.

We head up the A9 to Inverness, then the A835 towards Garve, before hooking onto the Achanalt road. For a while, we just drive. We get buzzed by a Chinook flying low across the loch. We run through main roads, and back roads and nothing roads. We swap cars, and think hard and marvel that the modern hot hatch is so incredibly powerful as a tool of ubiquitous use. All of them.

We are, however, going to have to lose another one, before we ascend the final proving ground. Nobody can decide, so we retire to local B&Bs to have a think, a pint, and a good, old-fashioned argument.

Next morning, it’s the Renault Megane Trophy that gets left at the base of the Applecross.

What? The Trophy? I can hear the winces of frustration. But the Megane, sublime though it is, doesn’t run the full menu when it comes to current hot-hatch brilliance. The diff is committed and squirrelly in car parks, and although it claws at the very fabric of a road when you’re throwing it at a nastily tightening apex, it can be a bit much when you just want to take your ease. Similarly, it has the body control of a proper athlete, but on really bumpy stuff it can be knocked off line, and on the motorway it’s that little bit less refined than the competition.

The interior is dated now, and the relationship between the control surfaces – a snappy clutch progression, loose-ish gearbox action and beautifully linear steering – don’t quite marry up. Of course, find it a smooth back road to devour – the kind of roads we encountered earlier in the day – and it’ll keep with anything here and beat most, but to really appreciate the Trophy, you have to be prepared to make notable compromises. And if you fancy a track day or two, then the Megane won’t disappoint.

It’s fairly knife-edged, on-the-day stuff this, though. But it won’t be the winner, so we won’t be taking it across the Applecross. A place where the bumps are many, and not your friend. A place to find the best hot hatch in the UK.

Read the rest of TG’s quest to find the best hot hatch on sale in the UK:

Twenty become ten – Drag Racing at Bruntingthorpe

Ten become six – Shakedown at Knockhill

Three becomes one – The Final Trio at the Applecross Pass