We’re off to the Geneva Motor Show on Wednesday, so we thought we’d round up the cars we’re planning on prodding when we get to the show. Not that an exhibition hall is necessarily the best place to sample a new car – we sincerely hope to slip behind the wheel of at least some of the following cars on a real road in the coming weeks and months.

Honda CR-Z
The European version of Honda’s pocket hybrid sports coupe will go on sale this summer. We like Honda hybrids, despite the slightly below-par feel of their interiors. We’re hoping that the CR-Z will succeed in appeasing both head and heart, providing athletic élan when it’s wanted combined with fuel-sipping parsimony when it’s not.

Nissan Leaf
We drove the Nissan Cube EV-02 prototype last year and fell in love with its silent and silky delivery, so we have high hopes for Nissan’s big electric car gamble. At least a full five grand from the government will help tip the odds in Nissan’s favour. The Nissan Leaf might look like an old-model Renault Mégane that’s been melted in a microwave, but we suspect its frog face and slippery shape will grow on us. We want to try out Nissan’s innovative satellite navigation system, which greys out the parts of the map you can’t reach without a recharge, to see well it responds to changes in driving style.

Opel Ampera
Another big production electric car gamble – the European version of Chevrolet’s Volt looked surprisingly attractive in the metal (in stationary, prototype form at least) when we finally clapped eyes on it at Millbrook last year. The range-extended electric car concept promises to be both practical and economical. We do wonder what it will be like to drive up steep hills, though, given all the hardware it has to lug around – batteries, fuel tank, engine and motor. We’d also like to see how well it stops in the rain. And how it manages the transition from pure battery power to petrol-electric mode. Despite these points of keen interest, we have high hopes for this transatlantic transplant. Interestingly, both the Vauxhall Ampera and the Chevrolet Volt will be sold alongside each other in the UK from 2012. We wonder how the two cars will differ in price, given that Chevrolet is a budget brand in Blighty.

Aston Martin Cygnet
Some people think a Toyota dressed up like a boil-wash DB9 is a travesty, but we beg to differ. After all, it can’t be much fun piloting your ordinary Aston super coupe between the City and Mayfair, say, when your eye-line is level with a bike courier’s crevice. Why not cram the same sense of occasion into something more suited to the city? We would have loved the Toyota iQ 3 but for its brittle, ill-appointed interior, and it’s on the Cygnet’s insides where Aston has exercised the bulk of its skills. True, the James Bond image is hard to pull off when piloting a car barely bigger than a cocktail napkin, but at least you might cross a city and arrived stirred but not shaken.

Audi A1
It may look like the result of a drunken shag between an Austin Maestro and a Fiat 500, and it’s not half as clever as an Audi A2, but it is progress, of a sort. We applaud the welcome wave of small cars with big ambitions, which prove that size really shouldn’t matter, and of which the Audi A1 will be the latest and probably the greatest. It’ll be much better inside than a Mini, a much better bet for residuals than a Citroën DS3, and much less likely to go bzzzzt-phtt-kerding than an Alfa Mito. The littlest Audi will be expensive but nonetheless a safe bet. We can’t wait to slip behind the wheel – the best place to avoid looking at its awful exterior.

That’s our pick of the new cars – we’ll let you know what else catches our eye later in the week.

After the expected long pause for fact finding, finding of facts and general dithering, the UK government yesterday revealed details of its promised ultra-low-CO2 car incentive scheme.

Was it worth the wait? Well, yes it was. Starting in January 2011, buyers of electric cars, hydrogen fuel-cell cars and plug-in hybrid cars will be eligible for a 25 per cent contribution from the taxpayer, capped at £5,000. The discount is offered per vehicle, rather than per buyer, so if you buy a pair of electric cars – one to drive while the other is charging, say – then you will qualify for two discounts.

The key word repeated in our laboured sentences above is “car”, as opposed to “vehicle”. Quadricycles don’t qualify. So potential buyers of Reva’s G-Wiz electric runabout – that rare and probably now endangered breed – needn’t bide their time till the New Year to make their purchase as there won’t be any fiscal easing on offer come January.

Here are the hoops that your prospective low-carbon car must zip through to let you claim the cash, according to the Department for Transport’s Office for Low Emission Vehicles (Olev):

• Pure battery-electric, plug-in hybrid or hydrogen fuel cell power source
• Zero emissions in use, or less than 75g/km for plug-in hybrids
• At least 70 miles range for BEVs, or 10 miles on battery alone for PHEVs
• At least 60mph flat out
• At least three years or 75,000 miles of vehicle warranty
• At least three years warranty on the battery, or five years (presumably at extra cost) if the buyer demands it
• “Reasonable” battery life – whatever that means – left at the end of the three years (we’re not sure how the government proposes to police that one, given that the grant is paid at the start of the three years...)
• Crash-tested to European, US, Japanese or an equivalent standard for cars
• Compliance with electrical safety standards both when in use and when recharging

In short, the rules are great news if you are, say, a large established car maker with a big, complex product in the final stages of buffing – Nissan Leaf, Vauxhall Ampera, Renault Fluence, Plug-in Prius, roll a step forward.

Equally, the rules are bad news if you are, instead, a small, niche electric car maker with a small, fragile, slow but simple product already on the market – tough luck Reva G-Wiz, Aixam Mega City, EuAuto MyCar and Tazzari Zero. If you ever doubted that our government prefers big businesses to plucky startups, get real.

Other nuggets of note? ECC’s converted Citroen C1, the Evie, will scrape through the criteria. Mitsubishi’s marvellous i-Miev will qualify with ease, as will its clone-brothers the Citroen C-Zero and Peugeot iOn.

Unfortunately, Renault’s tandem two-seat Twizy, which we fully expect to be a disruptive, breakthrough product when it ships next year will not qualify. Bad decision, Olev.

Still, there will be a general election in the UK between now and the start of the scheme, so nothing here is etched in silicon. Perhaps the next government will have other ideas about the kind of cars it wants to encourage to flourish on our city streets.

One of the non-optional extras you’ll get if you cough up £101,900 for a Tesla Roaster Sport electric car is, it seems, a constant reminder that you’ve purchased a fledgling product. If you want a quality fit and finish, buy a Porsche, as the steamed-up headlamps of this yellow Tesla attest.

We were tempted to write that spending 100 grand with Tesla bought you build quality on a par with a Reva G-Wiz, but that’s unfair. We doubt that condensation is a G-Wiz issue – there are too many big ventilation gaps.

The last car we can recall that suffered such a marked misting of the eyes was actually in the same rarefied price bracket as the tiny Tesla - the 1990s Aston Martin DB7 had headlamps that were equally prone to cataracts.

The complaint, along with sundry other issues that arise with a low-volume car, never harmed Aston – such is the magical value of its brand – and it seems likely that Tesla’s early adopters will be similarly inclined to turn a blind eye to such fiddling faults.

Swedish brand Saab seems to have a future again, courtesy of Dutch sports car maker Spyker, which has agreed to buy the firm from current parent General Motors after some protracted boardroom bean counting.

What are the flatlanders getting for their money? We thought we would get a taste by taking a 9-3 EcoPower Turbo Edition saloon for a spin.

The first thing that strikes us, even before we’ve turned a wheel, is that Saab’s legendary quirkiness begins when you pick up the key. The object handed to us when we collected the car didn’t look like a key, it looked like a rubber bottle-opener. The usual serrated metal strip that most keys depend upon to unlock things is hidden away, like a skeleton in a closet, slotted inside this bizarre black object with its central locking buttons . You can tug the metal part free if you need to unlock a door in an emergency, but normal car-starting duties are done by inserting the blunt nose of the rubber bottle-opener into the ignition slot. Which is down beside the handbrake, obviously.

Once on the go, though, things feel less overtly odd. Saab is famous for turbocharged road cars, and there is no mistaking the source of the EcoPower’s ample 180bhp. Power builds markedly with revs, from what feels like quite a low starting point. As a result, overtaking urge can sometimes arrive not quite on cue. You quickly get used to the pause before the punch, though. Once on boost, this is a very rapid car.

So that’s the Power part – what about the Eco?

The engine is a 1.9-litre TTiD - a four-cylinder, twin-turbo diesel, which bestows on the 9-3 a combined-cycle score of 139g/km and 53.3mpg. While not the brightest shade of green on the chart, this is not a bad result for a medium-sized saloon with sporting aspirations.

The engine sounds are unmistakeably diesel, particularly on startup, and with 400Nm on tap the car feels like a diesel too. Actually, it feels most persuasively and unmistakeably like a diesel when you floor the throttle at 50 in fifth, and the roof panel hums and vibrates in tune with the engine as it shudders like a Routemaster bus.

Treat the engine with more compassion, though, and its better side shines through. We found the car very driveable and even a little chuckable. Despite all that torque we never felt any torque steer, and you can hustle along quite quickly on B-roads. The steering is just about up to the job in terms of feel and feedback, while the brakes are slightly more communicative and very effective. You won’t mistake it for a BMW, but equally it feels a very large cut above the Vauxhall Vectra on which it was based.

We aren’t especially keen on the car’s looks – the fussy nose seems (and is) grafted on, failing to match the unadorned slab sides. And inside it’s an equally unsorted bag – great visibility, lovely leather seats, quality materials, questionable design and very dodgy details. The dash looks dated, the fussy handbrake is ill-conceived, the gearbox has a throw like a rowing boat, and the control stalks seem to have been made from the same type of plastic used to form the trays for microwave meals.

Despite the above, we couldn’t help liking the car quite a lot.

You can buy a brand new 9-3 EcoPower Turbo Edition from £18,995 – take along your haggling hat and you can probably lop off a fair few quid, given the marque’s current precarious position. The approved used sticker prices are laughable, and you won’t find many private sellers, but again, haggle hard and there will be distinct bargains to be had.

You will need to drive it till it falls apart, mind. The terms "residual value" and "Saab" can only hang together in a sentence when accompanied by adjectives like terrible, awful, or dismal. Whatever happens to Saab going forward, new broom Spyker is not going to sweep away that issue in the foreseeable future.