08 Nov 04
But that isn't to say that the diminutive Roadster-Coupe is without fault. A constant source of irritation is the absence of usable storage space. The glovebox is only as good as its name - there's just about room for a pair of woolly mitts or a mini A-Z, but only if you pack carefully. The door pockets struggle to hold even gloves and I'm yet to discover a use for the miniscule slots at the bottom of the centre console.
I'm forced to stuff my road atlas down the back of the passenger seat, while my wallet of CDs lives in a pouch attached to the side of the passenger footwell. It's difficult to reach from the driver's seat and it's always on display. I live in a permanent state of anxiety that my Leonard Cohen collection should fall into the wrong hands...
There are also times when I wonder whether this sort of car really is appropriate for city living. In south-west London the roads are smothered in speed humps, and within the first half mile of every journey, I'm forced to negotiate seven of these obstacles. The Smart is ill-equipped to cope.
