Features
Back to Library >Our Cars: Toyota iQ
Toyota's innovative city car has become a rarity on UK roads
But whatever passes for logic here goes like this. Having bought a VW Golf R recently to use as our daily, and then modified it into a car I no longer feel comfortable using every day – because it feels too vulnerable sitting on the street, hence why it’s now parked in a lockup for use on dry days only, well away from the daily grind for which it was originally bought – I convinced myself that, because we live in a city, we needed a city car for everyday use. A small, agile, inexpensive knockabout that could sit outside and maybe even get scraped in the Tesco car park without it feeling like the end of the world. A little workhorse but an interesting one with power steering and not much that could go wrong on it. Such as an iQ.
So having justified it, I set about finding a decent one. Which is when I realised how rare these cars have become since Toyota stopped building them in 2015, especially as my superior half insisted it had to be automatic, of which there are far fewer examples than manuals and cost more as a result.
No matter, thought I, if I can’t find us a decent, well priced automatic iQ, I’ll create one from a perhaps less than decent example. So last August, having test driven numerous iQs, I found what I thought was a good enough example to use as a starting point.
"Ours was neither the best nor worst, but I had plans to try and turn it into the former"
As requested it was an automatic whose 1-litre, three-cylinder engine had done 79,000 miles, a substantial mileage for one of these; but it also came with a full service history while its Blue Streak metallic bodywork appeared not to be rusting away. It looked okay underneath too, so far as I could tell from a quick inspection of the sills, front subframe and as much of the rear end as I could reach while grovelling around beneath the car with a torch on the forecourt of Getaroundcars.com.
When we drove it, we both fell for it at once. Mechanically it was far better than most others, with a pleasing smoothness to its engine, gearbox, ride and power steering. After a bit of haggling and an agreement to fix various issues before sale, terms were agreed at £3995 including an 18-month warranty. This felt a good deal given that most automatic iQs go for a grand more – even the shoddy ones – while the best often require twice as much.
Ours was neither the best nor worst, but I had plans to try and turn it into the former, starting with a trip to the Automatic Gearbox Centre in Hove to see if there were any skeletons hiding within its CVT transmission. Parts are non-existent and to replace the whole gearbox would cost more than the car, so their verdict was crucial.
Fortunately, the oil was nice and clean and everything else was as it should be. It seemed a wise £240 to spend, my thinking being that whatever else I spend tarting it up will be worth it as nothing else major can go wrong (the optimism of the car-tragic knows no bounds, obviously).
“I sourced some used 18in Alutec wheels (with tyres) from eBay for £500 to fill the arches more fulsomely, at which point the concept car-look I was seeking was pretty much complete”
Over the following weeks and months I became quietly obsessed with Project iQ. First I fitted new springs for £110 because those at the rear were rusting. As were both front drop links, replaced for a further £90. As part of this process I lowered the ride height by 30mm by buying shorter, slightly stiffer springs, the wheel arch gaps being a bit ridiculous on the regular springs and 15in wheels. Then I sourced some used 18in Alutec wheels (with tyres) from eBay for £500 to fill the arches more fulsomely, at which point the concept car-look I was seeking was pretty much complete.
After 500 miles I had a minor setback when the radiator sprung a leak but that was covered by the warranty. While that was being done I got Getaround’s warranty garage to fit a new air conditioning condenser for £200, since when our iQ hasn’t missed a beat. And it is lovely.
However, in my naïve, never-ending quest for perfection I then decided to replace the door seals, a common fault on older iQs, and the steering wheel badge, which had lost some of its sparkle. It’s also had three new spark plugs, new wipers, a sump full of fresh 5w30 and a new battery.
Over the festive period I also spent a couple of not particularly lazy days restoring the headlights, which have a tendency to cloud and turn yellow and cost a whopping £310 each to replace. Autoglym’s restoration kit cost £27 from Amazon and, together with £15 of anti-UV lacquer, has made them look good as new. Almost.
Restoring the headlights cost Sutcliffe a total of £42
In total I’ve spent a little over a grand on parts and servicing including the wheels and tyres and with a good polish and touch-up inside our iQ now looks, feels and drives rather better than it once did. And I was a big fan of its easy going, big-car-inside-a-tiny-car personality, long before I started mucking about with it.
I’m especially pleased with the ride, handling and steering feel post-suspension and wheel/tyre upgrades. Much of the wallowy-heave of the standard car has gone, replaced by a sharper, neater level of control but without the ride going too far south. What I like most is its unexpected maturity, the grown up way in which it goes about the business of being a very small car – without ever feeling like one from behind the wheel.
Everything also works beautifully and feels quietly expensive, right down to the leather steering wheel and the buttons it contains that work the simple but high-quality stereo. I’m not bothered about it being one of the slowest cars I’ve ever driven because chipping about in Brighton & Hove its performance or lack thereof doesn’t matter. Most of the speed limits are 20mph so who cares if it takes its time leaving the lights?
Besides, the three-pot motor has a perky thrum and it responds quite enthusiastically with some revs dialled in. The performance produced by 68bhp in an 860kg car is less glacial than I expected, especially if you select sport mode which energises the throttle response (I kid you not). Driven with sufficient timing and vim it can easily keep up with the flow on a dual carriageway. Plus the chilled nature of the CVT suits it a treat around town.
Result: I really do like driving it in our city, more than the Golf, and most other test cars that come my way. Its tiny dimensions and sub-eight metre turning circle make it phenomenally agile, and the steering is beautifully weighted. It can squeeze into parking spaces most other cars can’t get near, yet on dual carriageways and motorways it feels almost like a normal small hatchback, and is miles less terrifying than a Smart ForTwo.
True, the boot is virtually non-existent but the rear seats have been designed to allow you to drop them in a heartbeat to create a proper sized load area. And, yes, we’ve already had two in the back and two in the front for short journeys, although calling it a four-seater is a stretch. A three-seater is more accurate, the front passenger area having been designed to allow one adult to sit behind another with kneeroom to spare.
You can squeeze four people in – just
After six months, a decent amount of elbow grease, a £1000 budget and a couple of thousand near trouble-free miles, I’m smitten. I drive this car sometimes just to enjoy the ride. More significantly, Samantha loves it too.
If Toyota made this car today with a simple EV powertrain with a range of 200 miles I suspect it’d sell plenty. Even as it is, with its teeny petrol three-cylinder chugging away under the guidance of a brilliant CVT, ours averages between 40-52mpg depending where and by whom it’s being driven, and it can easily do 240 miles on a £30 tank of unleaded. Oh yes, and the annual road tax is £20 and it costs us £150 a year to insure.
Beat that for a five grand package. If you can.

