06 Mar 07
Spec level 1 is pretty good: it includes a jack for your iPod, hoops for securing luggage in the boot, 12-volt sockets in the front and in the boot, and a steering wheel that's adjustable in and out as well as up and down. But air con really is a must, and my wife hates it when she's in the front passenger seat and can't get it up to a decent height, so it had to be level 2.
We've added the bigger sunroof, which is a £550 option, taking the cost of our car to £13,600, but that feels like money well spent, because it compensates for the darkness of the upholstery and gives a light, airy feel throughout the car. It also gives us a very special view of the bird poo that the Roomster seems to attract even when it's parked nowhere near a tree. Perhaps it's something to do with that green paint.
So, on paper it's very impressive, in a no-nonsense, nitty-gritty kind of way, and so far the reality is shaping up well - although we've yet to test just how versatile the interior really is, or how relaxing it is if you spend a whole day driving a Roomster on the motorway.
I've been averaging mid-40s fuel consumption, but the trip computer makes it clear that if I was driving smoothly and steadily at passenger-friendly speeds I'd be topping 50mpg. Every time I fill up, that trip computer suggests that I'll get more than 600 miles from a tank, but then I go and blow it by getting involved in stop-start town traffic or motorway-limit jockeying, both of which bring out the 105bhp engine's thirst.
The only weakness so far is that those high sides make the Roomster vulnerable to strong winds. Skoda's designers are clever, but they can't defy the laws of physics.