Refreshingly simple: 2025 SEAT Ibiza review

There’s something charming about a car that doesn’t try too hard, and the SEAT Ibiza has never been a show-off. It’s the mate who turns up to the pub on time, and always buys the first round – and for that, we love it.

For 2025, it’s had a bit of a tidy up. Not a full makeover, and it’s still very much recognisably an Ibiza, which is a good thing because the world needs a few more honest small cars and a few fewer crossovers with attitude.

Approaching it, you realise how compact it looks among the SUV blimps littering the car park. The design is clean, slightly angular, and refreshingly down to Earth. The car measures just over 4.0 metres long, about 1.78 metres wide, and 1.45 metres tall, so it still feels perfectly city sized.

Inside, the Ibiza has resisted the temptation to go full tablet. There’s a proper climate control panel with real buttons and everything sits where your hands expect it. The digital display is clear, and the touchscreen is 9.2 inches on higher trims; it’s solid, functional, and mercifully not covered in shiny black plastic.

Press the starter button and the familiar one-litre three-cylinder engine wakes with that faintly offbeat thrum, like a distant wasp. It comes in two tunes: 95 horsepower with a five-speed manual or 110 horsepower with a six-speed manual or DSG. The latter is the sweet spot, giving you 0 to 62 miles per hour in around 10.3 seconds and returning about 52 miles per gallon on the combined cycle.

It’s not fast, but it’s keen. Around town it feels lively, light, and just the right side of cheeky. The steering is quick and easy if not exactly talkative, and on a twisty B-road the Ibiza settles into a happy rhythm with eager turn in, tidy balance, and the sort of composure that reminds you SEAT’s engineers still care about how a car feels, not just how many USB ports it has.

The gearbox is crisp enough to make you feel involved without turning every shift into a workout. The ride is on the firm side especially in FR trim, but it’s a price worth paying for the planted stance and that lovely sense of agility.

Motorway miles? Surprisingly civilised. Wind noise is a murmur, the little engine hums rather than shouts, and the seats are supportive enough to save your spine from complaint. The infotainment system works without the need for a PhD in menu navigation.

The boot is vast by supermini standards at 355 litres. Fold the seats and you get over 1,100 litres which is genuinely enough for a week’s shopping and a small existential crisis. Rear space is fine unless your friends play rugby, and the cabin feels airy thanks to generous glass.