The effort Alfa has put into matching the interior ambience to the Mito’s kerbside appeal is obvious. The two-piece dash with swathes of carbon-fabric is not understated, especially if you choose to have the carbon-fabric in red or blue. But it does lend the Mito a suitable sense of occasion and is more upmarket than the term ‘carbon-fabric’ suggests.
Overall, though, the interior is not styled as cohesively as the exterior. Or the Mini’s.
The driving position is generally good, but is spoilt by a few small flaws. Alfa should be applauded for a seat that allows the driver to sit sufficiently low, a rare thing in this class. This feeling of sitting in the car rather than on it immediately helps deliver the sporting ambition Alfa is so keen to provide.
More good news is that the steering wheel can be brought close to your chest. But the rake adjustment disappoints by keeping the wheel a touch high. Further niggles are an awkward clutch footrest and seats that, although good to look at, could be more supportive.
Rear accommodation is not hugely spacious, but two six-footers can sit in line, although it’s unlikely they would want to travel any great distance.
There’s 270 litres of luggage space, which is over 100 litres more than that of a Mini Cooper S but fractionally less than the three-door Fiesta Zetec S’s or Renault Clio Cup’s.
Beyond the presence of an extra number on the gearlever, it would take an expert to distinguish a Cloverleaf’s cabin from that of any other Mito. There are no QV badges and the only distinguishing features are the darkened headlining and steering wheel. The standard cloth sport seats are the same as the Veloce’s, which is a shame because they could do with being a touch more supportive.