Importing My 1996 Renault Twingo Home: Five Weeks, One Tiny Renault and a Lot of Second-Guessing

1996 Renault Twingo outside a dealership in Japan.

In the last installments, we left off with my entirely sensible decision to import a 1996 Renault Twingo as my new-to-me practical car, along with my explanation of why a Twingo seemed like a good idea. This time, the adventure moves from temptation to transaction: buying the car, navigating the export process, and waiting for those all-important pre-shipping photos. The entire purchase rested on a handful of dealer images. Would reality match the promise, or was I about to feel très mal?

2002 Renault Twingo in purple.

As mentioned before, I had looked at a few Twingo ads. I always found them appealing, but every option I came across seemed too expensive. There was a purple one which, while a funky color, was not really my favorite. There was also a green one that looked good but had 229,000 kilometres on it, or about 142,000 miles, which was getting up there for a small car. The biggest problem, though, was that the importer included only a single photo. A single 600-pixel-wide image was not really enough to go on. On a brief side rant, I do not understand why so many Japanese ads use such low-resolution photos. For a country traditionally associated with advanced technology, cameras, and digital cameras in particular, they seem oddly stuck in the Stone Age when it comes to sharing high-resolution images.

1996 Renault Twingo rear view.

1996 Renault Twingo interior shot with a Fiat Panda in the background.

1996 Renault Twingo engine visible.

When the green one was suddenly marked down by a significant amount, I became very interested. The single photo was still a major stumbling block, and this is where I may have outsmarted myself. I ran the image through a reverse image search and found a local Japanese classified ad for the same car, this time with a full set of photos showing the interior and all exterior angles. They were still in that blasted low resolution, but at least I could get a much better feel of the car. The paint appeared to be in good condition, with no major dents or obvious flaws, and the interior looked intact. Crucially, the windshield appeared to be crack-free, which mattered because finding a replacement would likely be nearly impossible.

Buy Now Sign

Feeling smart and confident that I alone had found the additional images, and that everyone else would pass on this single-photo car, I clicked Buy Now. The payment process was a little complicated. I could either send an international money order or put it on a credit card. It was cheap enough, and I figured the credit card might offer some modest additional protection, so I chose that route. My Buy Now transaction was accepted, but my payment was blocked by my bank. I had done enough research on the importer to be very confident that they were legitimate, but this still meant a lengthy call with the fraud protection people at the bank. That led to an interesting conversation when they asked what I was buying. I casually explained that I was buying a used French car in Japan and having it shipped to Canada. They were surprisingly unfazed by this and were able to unblock the transaction.

Cargo ship on the ocean under a bridge.
Creative Commons – https://www.flickr.com/photos/cseeman/43141445045/

At this point, I learned that because the car was not in the importer’s own stock, but rather part of an affiliated third-party dealer’s inventory, there would be a three-to four-week holding period before transportation was arranged. I had not really counted on this, and it pushed my intended port retrieval date back a bit. Still, it seemed doable before winter set in. Three to four weeks ended up being a little over five, but we were still looking okay date-wise, except that the estimated retrieval date now coincided with my wife’s birthday week and a busy period at work. Both were things I had been carefully trying to avoid.

Overall view of the car.

Detail of the bad paint.

Sometime during this period, additional photos appeared in my account, along with a modest inspection report. These were photos from the storage area before shipping. Unfortunately, they were quite disappointing. The paintwork was certainly worse than suggested by the third-party ad I had found, or by the single featured photo. There was significant clear coat failure and what appeared to be evidence of a past respray.

Peeling clear coat.

Outside of exotic cars, paintwork and rust are generally the most expensive issues to correct. At least the undercarriage photos indicated a very solid car. The photos also seemed to confirm a good front windshield. The inspection report noted non-functional air conditioning, a minor oil leak, and a passenger window that did not go up or down. Given what I had planned for the car, the lack of working A/C was unfortunate but not critical. The oil leak is likely solvable with a new gasket or two, and I figured the window switch or motor could be sorted at my leisure once the car was safety inspected and on the road.

2002 Renault Twingo in purple.

The bumpers also seemed to have something like peeling clear coat, which I would not have expected. I generally aim to break even on the cars I own, but I strongly suspect the poor paintwork means that will be impossible here, since fixing clear coat is usually a fool’s errand. That probably will not stop me from trying, however. I do still really like the overall color. It is a sort of frog green to go with the frog-like headlights.

Rear logo of the Twingo including Easy badge.

I had one more shock when the rear view showed a sticker that said “Easy.” The Easy edition was a clutchless manual transmission introduced in 1994 for those who liked to change their own gears but did not want to, or could not, operate a clutch. It featured a Quickshift-5 gearbox and was a bit of a throwback to earlier times before automatic transmissions became widely available in small cars; think the Autostick from Volkswagen. But if it could work anywhere, surely it could be France… or Japan. Predictably, these systems were somewhat failure-prone, and many were converted to a standard clutch and transmission setup. I had no interest in the “Easy” transmission. I quickly checked the other photos and confirmed the presence of a third pedal, a clutch, as well as a shift knob with a five-speed pattern. Whew. A fully automatic transmission came to the Twingo in 1996 as the more practical clutchless option.

My Twingo at a dealership in Oct 2023.
Oct 2023
My Twingo at a dealership in April 2025.
April 2025

It was great to see my car at the storage yard, but the photos showed a mixed bag in terms of condition. Comparing them back to the original ad photos, I wondered what had happened. Had they altered the images or used old photos? Because I had outsmarted myself by buying on one site while using photos from another to assess the condition, I was probably out of luck if I wanted to appeal on the basis of false advertising. My friend Rod was able to find the dealership on Google Street View. The car had been sitting on the lot since at least October 2023. The dealership itself seems to have a variety of interesting vehicles for sale. You can see it yourself HERE.

(edit – To be clear this importer clearly marks if cars are “third party” or their own stock. I choose to roll the dice a bit with a third party car. I blame myself and the selling dealership, not the importer.)

Side view of the Renault at the storage place.

As of August 7, 2026, the Twingo was loaded onto the Walrus Ace (V-0067A) out of Yokohama, Japan, with an estimated arrival in Canada on August 27 before customs processing. If all goes well, the next chapter will be the real test: collecting it at port and pointing its little frog-green nose toward home for a 1,130 km, or 702 mile, drive through the mountains of British Columbia and Alberta. That should answer the most important question of all: did I buy a charmingly practical French city car, or a very small green mistake?

In the Twingo Series:

Part 1  – In Search of A Practical Winter Car … And Ending With Something French?

Part 2 – Small, French and Quirky – What Is A Renault Twingo And Why Would You Want One

Part 3 – Importing My 1996 Renault Twingo Home: Five Weeks, One Tiny Renault and a Lot of Second-Guessing

Part 4 – 1,200 kms In An Untested 30-Year Old French Car? Meeting And Driving The Renault Twingo Home