Try to think back to the last time a Volvo was featured on evo-ME’s pages. That’s right, never. Since the dawn of 2007, we didn’t consider any of the Safe-and-Respectable-Swedes  thrilling. The one that would’ve caught our eye – the C30 T5 – was a case of bad timing, having been released at the tail end of 2006 and falling off the radar ever since.

Happily, Volvo is back with a perked-up C30. I say happily because variety does have a certain piquancy. Spotting a hot hatch on the road which isn’t a Golf or Seat is somewhat gratifying – particularly when it comes in bright flame orange.

Adding to the fiery hue of the new T5 are some rather nice external touches, from its curvy, lengthened lights, to its rounded new nose and 18in, diamond cut alloys. That same idiosyncratic curvy Volvo rear with its all-glass, tapered hatch has also been retained. A good thing, since it’s what separates the C30 from the German mainstream. To move it nicely away from the staidness of other Volvos, the monochromatic lower valances and sills make it sit well on the road, too.

Annoyingly, no tweaking has been done to the inside. Save for the two-tone R-Design seats (comfortable but more hip support needed), there’s nothing to differentiate it from the standard C30. Floating centre console not withstanding, it’s simply a host of grey and black soft plastics. And that won’t please the fashionable, 30-something, iMac-loving urbanites the T5 is aimed at. Neither will the ageing black-on-green info display. A few bright stripes here and matching orange stitching there would’ve done it no harm at all...

A glance at the list of mechanical changes gives some comfort to those less concerned with image and more with dynamics. Dampers and anti-roll bars have been stiffened, ride is lowered by 10mm, spring rates are up by 30 per cent and harder bushes are fitted. Marked changes, then.

Marked improvements in how it handles, too. If you ask anyone serious about driving of their impressions on the old T5, you’d get some unfavourable comments. Colleagues have described it as lazy and lacking in suspension control. This one is somewhat better: it’s direct, grippy and balanced.

Quicker, weightier steering makes it alert and it’s just as keen to dart into fast bends as it is into tight ones. It feels planted, has more urgency and gusto to it. Lean is minimal and it’s a controlled, jarr-less ride with enough give in its setup to not make rougher tarmac unbearable. Far, it seems, from being the pudding some have described it. Lift off mid-bend and you could even make the rear cheekily step out of line.

My only complaint is the steering’s inconsistency. There’s a rubbery vagueness that appears at around 90 degrees of lock, drawing back some of the confidence you accumulated in the front end when you first set yourself in the C30’s fantastic driving position.

Exiting tighter corners on the power you realise progress would be swifter if it was equipped with a limited-slip diff, the torquey in-line five easily spinning an inside front. Tramlining is also an issue, but by far the biggest shame is the carryover five-speed Geatronic auto. I can manage without paddles (surely that’s a given these days?), but I don’t see why there isn’t even a sport mode in the transmission. Better than both would be a manual, which would give the whole car the added sharpness it needs – if only Volvo offered it in the Middle East.

Price-wise, this 227bhp C30 upholds its premium badging by slotting in above the A3, alongside the Golf GTi and below the 1-Series. It isn’t as competent as the latter two, but if you hanker for a more leftfield hot hatch, you won’t be disappointed with the T5.