June 24, 2010 marked the 100th birthday of Alfa Romeo. The FIAT group, into which Alfa Romeo was integrated in 1986, didn’t seem to care in the least about the event. That left the organisation of this special occasion to the MAC Group – an Italian event managing company – in collaboration with RIAR, the Italian Alfa Romeo Register. Because the intended activities for the event were shortened month by month it was up to the other European Alfa Romeo Clubs to organise something. And they did – with some 2500 Alfa Romeos spending the weekend in and around Milan.

The Journey to Milan

Along with my partner, Claudia, we travelled in our 1977 Alfa Romeo Giulia Super Nuova – which has been a family member for 21 years. The Alfa Romeo Club of Germany had arranged a whole week for us, starting in Hanover, and we picked up more and more cars into the convoy as we approached Varese, north-west of Milan.

In the weeks before, we had permanent rain and temperatures with little more than one digit (we call this early summer), but when we travelled to join the others near Karlsruhe, the sun came out and summer finally found its way to us. The drive over the Alps via Grimsel and Nufenen Pass was fantastic.

Varese is located between Lake Maggiore and Lake Como, certainly one of the most beautiful areas in northern Italy. Two hold-ups due to traffic jams could not spoil our fun and the hotel in Varese was very acceptable. The first day we just drove around a bit at the lakes and met nice Alfa people wherever we stopped. Later we gathered at the bar for a beer and to watch some games from the football World Cup.

On June 24 we all went to Arese for the centenary celebration. In Arese, west of Milan, Alfa Romeo cars were produced for a long time until FIAT started to close the factory from 1986 on. Today Arese is vacant; just before the centenary the FIAT Group shut down the last parts of the factory in which once 19,000 people used to work. Only the Museo Storico Alfa Romeo is still there. The clubs from Germany, GB, the Netherlands and Switzerland had done all the negotiations with the Museum, and somehow all the others just came along.

Museo Storico at Arese

At 8.15 in the morning the cars started to arrive – at the closed gate! The guardian pointed out that the museum opened at 9am and before that no one is allowed in, not even into the car park. Half an hour later the queue was kilometres long and blocking the roads. After various phone calls – and cursing Italian bureaucracy – the gates finally opened. The next queue formed at the entrance (though it was free of charge) because they wanted the visitors to sign the guest book – one book for hundreds of people!

Indeed, the museum is very good; though a few interesting cars were missing because they were at other events, like the Goodwood Festival of Speed.

Later, the official birthday speeches were planned but somehow didn’t take place – I don’t think anybody missed them. We would rather have talked to other Alfisti anyway – some  of them coming from as far as Australia, Canada, Malaysia, South Africa, Japan and Russia. I saw somebody with a Kiwi cap, but there were no New Zealanders included on the list of entrant nationalities, so he may have been a fake!

When leaving the area we heard that the Italian Labour Union had put on a strike at the gates and closed them for almost one hour – very sensible when no FIAT executive is there (the strike was due to another planned closure of a FIAT factory). I am afraid this protest only annoyed all the Alfisti and won’t help the workers very much. Anyhow, Arese had many emotional moments, and if you happen to be in the Milan area it’s a must to go to there and visit the Museo Storico.

Later on some of the attendees (or Alfisti) went to Monza where RIAR had organised a drive on the race track. We didn’t go; with the temperature at 35°C it was much too hot for us. But we heard it was quite good, though not cheap if you wanted to have a go on the race-track. Instead we enjoyed a late lunch at Lago Lugano, and after that we took even greater pleasure in watching the Italian football team lose against Slovakia. There may be a European Community but it’s certainly less than friendly when football is involved.

Cento Alfa per cent’anni

On June 25 we went to Novegro near Milan airport, where the Alfa Blue Team – an exquisite club of Alfa owners – had assembled an exhibition called ‘100 Alfas for 100 Years.’ That exhibition was really the highlight of the trip for us – I never have seen such a good collection (of mainly private cars) with such an excellent presentation. I only can hope that all Alfisti have seen it, because we surely won’t see anything like that again.

One of our favourites was a dark blue Carabinieri Giulia. Unfortunately the owners, in their decorative police uniforms, were always in sight otherwise we would have been tempted to take it – the key was still in the ignition!

That day was really perfect until we reached the new hotel in Milan, where we had ordered and paid for our parking places months in advance and then found that all places were taken. The hotel had double-booked us and a symposium, which ended at 7pm. Obviously they didn’t expect people to arrive before 7pm though a great dinner was planned at the same hotel for 8pm. And we are not talking about a cheap hotel.

Despite that, the evening dinner was quite good and a little shouting and complaining by the club board finally cleared the parking situation as well. The club board also hinted that everything planned for the next two days was the sole responsibility of the MAC Group. The final programme for this weekend had been framed only three weeks before and was, once again, revised three days before the centenary. One lady said to me that she expected nothing, or the worst – and everything better than that is good. A very good motto to prepare for what was to come.

Percorso Fiera Rho – Milano

The MAC Group also organises the Mille Miglia – so it should know how to handle many cars. Should – but doesn’t.

A meeting of all Alfas from all clubs and nationalities was planned at the Milan show grounds for Saturday. We arrived early to join the traffic jam on the access road. Up to 3000 cars were expected – and only two people were handling the entrance. Almost a minute for each car meant some of us needed more than an hour to get in. The idea was to assemble all nationalities separately in designated parking areas. As each car arrived they had to check a long list to hand out the parking sticker – and we found ourselves in between the Swiss contingent, while others who had been travelling together in a group of five were assigned to four different parking areas. You don’t have to understand this. It’s Italy!

In order to get our centenary kits and car stickers we again stood in line for a long time – although it was nice to get to know all the others in the line. The buffet started half an hour late and was completely empty after an hour – but we had a lot of fun. The waiters carried each tray separately for long distances (don’t they have any trolleys in Italy?) and handed out drinks glass by glass. One person, one drink, one glass. We finally shouted at them and frightened them so deeply that in the end they gave us whole bottles of water and wine for our table. For those people late at the gates, only the floor remained for to them to sit upon, while only scraps were left from the buffet. Funnily enough, everybody we spoke to (British, Australian, Danish, Swiss, German and so on) said the same; what do you expect – this is Italy!

Nevertheless we had a very interesting day, and the car park was certainly a sight. It held some 2500 to 3000 Alfas of all kinds with some real beauties among them, even a handful of pre-war Alfas had come all the way from Britain. A couple of brand new 8C Competiziones were also on display. Unfortunately, we almost couldn’t stand the heat outside (more than 35°C) but I have to admit that the MAC Group cannot be held responsible for this.

Later, a group of 100 selected cars – followed by everyone else – was supposed to drive to Milan City. But somehow the police didn’t know anything about having to escort a convoy. In the end, only the top 100 cars were lined up at the entrance of the castle in Milan. All others had to drive around and find a parking place in the city – after they had found out that the designated car park was closed. Surprisingly, only a few local people came to view the display at the castle.

We got the impression that most people in Milan didn’t know anything about the event or were not very interested. The promised fireworks at night must have been a disappointment too – we missed it but, after talking to other Alfisti, obviously missed nothing special.

Percorso Tangenziale

On Sunday 27th and the last day in Milan a world record was planned: the embracement of Milan by Alfa Romeo cars. A good idea, but remember: it’s Italy. We met at the show grounds again – not as many as the day before because a few already had given up. More than 1000 cars and all the crews came directly from breakfast. Alas, all the public toilets were closed – not a great idea.

This time the police were leading the convoy – unfortunately, much too fast and so it disassembled after a short while. We didn’t know where to go – only that we should follow the ‘tangenziale’ which is the motorway around Milan. We stopped about half way round in a rest area – so far it was good – but then the whole convoy disintegrated. We drove back to the show grounds to find closed gates and other helpless Alfisti wondering what was happening. We then tried the city with the same result, so finally went back to our hotel.

Most of our group were already there, as perplexed as we were. This was in fact the ending of a once-in-a-century event. Later, we learned that the stop at the rest area had indeed been the very end of the show. We finally decided to complete the Italian experience with a silent afternoon, a good dinner, and a wonderful tour back over the Alps to Munich.

People who were only there for the weekend may have been disappointed but we had a wonderful week, despite the justifiable critique concerning the MAC Group. We met many nice people and made new friends. We joined with good company and enjoyed the huge international group from 54 countries having fun together with only one thing in common – Alfa Romeo ownership. And, no matter how chaotic the Italians might have been, we were, are and will be Alfisti and nothing can cure that. Even Ferdinand Piëch (head of VW/Porsche and grandson of Ferdinand Porsche) pointed out in an interview that for him Alfa Romeo is surely one of the strongest marques in the world.

Non-Alfa people may call us crazy but I doubt that any other car brand would be able to bring together so many people without the help of the car company itself. We will always remember that week – not only through the hundreds of photos we took – but because we love to be Alfisti under any circumstances. We may be crazy, but we enjoy it!

Words & Photos: Hans Burger

This article is from NZ Classic Car issue 237. Click here to check it out.

Alfa Romeo’s iconic roadster first appeared in 1966 – badged as the Duetto – and, following a name change to Spider, would remain in production until 1994. This month, we look at the last-of-the-line Spider Veloce of the ’90s, with a brief look at an early round-tail Spider from the ’60s for the purposes of comparison.

When considering classic sports cars with long production lives, most would point to the evergreen MGB. However, there is one sports car contemporary with the MGB that actually remained in production for a decade longer – the Alfa Romeo Spider. Indeed, the Spider even made it into the new millennium with the front-wheel drive Spider, which ran from 1995 to 2006. And the Spider name lives on today, with the Brera-based Spider.

During its long existence, the classic RWD Spider – which began life badged as a Duetto – competed directly against British sports cars from MG, Lotus, Austin-Healey and Triumph. By the time it entered S4 guise it was competing against Mazda’s MX-5 and, if it had remained in production for a few another year or so, it would’ve found itself pitted against the BMW Z3 and MGF. By comparison, the Spider’s previous rivals had either been consigned to history or, like Lotus, had moved much further up market.

Although the Spider was never produced in numbers to match the MGB, and its final years were virtually confined to the US, the model’s longevity remains an amazing feat – proving that Alfa Romeo got it right way back in 1966.

Finesse versus Muscle

From the start, Alfa Romeo aimed its new sports car directly at the profitable US market, specifically developing the cars’s 105 Giulia mechanicals to produce a vehicle that would be more palatable to American tastes. As such, the Spider was also very softly sprung and comfortable to drive – offering a quite different take on the affordable sports car as evinced by MG, Triumph and Austin-Healey.

In direct comparison to the British cars, the Alfa was considerably more sophisticated – so the Spider came with an all-alloy, chain-driven twin-cam engine as opposed to the ohv cast-iron anchors fitted to its British rivals. As well, in an era when only exotic cars boasted more than four gears in their cog-box, the Spider was blessed with an all-synchromesh five-speeder. Sure, it still had a live axle, but it was well located and there wasn’t an antique lever-arm in sight.

For some, however, the Spider’s slightly feminine image – reinforced by its famous appearance in The Graduate movie – was almost the polar opposite of the rough, masculine persona exemplified by the Brits. No, if the six-cylinder Austin-Healey 3000 and TR5 were bloke’s cars, the Alfa Romeo Spider was seen as a bird’s car. And you could safely make that kind of comparison back in the non-PC ’60s!

If we can’t say such things these days without upsetting society’s delicate sensibilities, if you drive a Spider against either a Healey or TR, you’ll be left feeling that way. Whereas the British cars require lots of muscle – heavy steering, heavy pedals – to hustle them along quickly, the Spider requires more finesse, more delicacy in order to extract the best performance. Having said that, the Alfa’s well-balanced chassis thrives on being chucked around and, even at relatively modest speeds, it loves to kick out its tail. And when the rear end does begin to slide, the immediate response from the steering is welcome – allowing for quick and failsafe corrective action. The Spider may be missing the muscle of its British rivals, but it more than makes up for its lack of power with its excellent handling and on-road responses.

For those, like me, brought up on hairy-chested sports cars, the Spider may seem like a soft option but its sheer sophistication and technical excellence shines through.

Changing Spiders

As you would expect of any car with such a long life, the Spider went through many changes over the decades. The most significant of the earlier alterations was the decision to slice of the original car’s long tapering rear-end – and it was hacked off in 1967 to be replaced with a truncated Kamm-type tail.

The next big change came with the introduction of the S3 cars, which featured styling changes that many felt destroyed the purity of Pininfarina’s original design, perhaps even more so than the loss of the round tail. However, the era of the S3 ‘Aerodinamica’ Spider was a bland period for Alfa Romeo, and it seemed as if it was simply changing things for change’s sake. With its ugly impact bumpers and rubber ducktail spoiler, it seemed like the Spider would never recover from this bastardisation.

Throughout its life, Alfa Romeo also played with engine capacities – although most cars sold in the UK, the US and NZ featured either the 1750 or 2000 twin-cams. Smaller capacity engines were used more freely in Italy due to their car tax regulations, hence both 1300 and 1600 Junior versions of the Spider were available in the car’s homeland, and in some parts of Europe. Indeed, although you may think the 1750 Spider replaced the 1600 Duettto/Spider, this was not the case as the 1600 variant remained in production until 1992; though you won’t see many of these cars outside of Italy.

The S3 also spawned several ‘special’ models; including the Quadrifoglio Verde with its gauche side-skirts and, for the US only, The Graduate – no doubt aimed at baby boomers wanting to recall their youth.

Perhaps chastened by criticism of the S3 Spider, Alfa Romeo finally responded positively and the final S4 cars were subjected to a much more thoughtful revision. With colour-keyed bumpers and smoother styling, the Spider was allowed to live out its final years with some semblance of its previous good looks.

Alas, Alfa did little to alter the Spider’s underpinnings. It did adopt variable valve timing for the 2.0-litre twin-cam, along with electronic fuel injection, but for many it was simply too little, too late.

By the ’90s the Spider was simply too old fashioned, a relic of the swinging’ 60s that was well past its sell-by date.

By now, the US was virtually the only overseas market for the Spider, and its final gasp came with the limited edition Spider Commemorative Edition of 1994.

Following that, Alfa killed the classic Spider, replacing it with the better built, thoroughly modern and fashionably wedge-shaped, front-wheel-drive Spider.

This GTV-based Spider remained in production in 2006, when it was replaced with a fresh Spider utilising the Brera’s underpinnings.

At the time of writing, the internet is awash with images of a fresh Alfa Romeo Spider concept, one that indicates a possible return to the classic RWD configuration of the Duetto. Penned by a group of designers from the Politecnico di Milano University, it seems unlikely this concept will ever become a production reality, but it shows that Alfa is perhaps considering the idea of a return to something more like the original Spider.

On the Road: Comparing Spiders

As you would expect, the interior of the S4 car is considerably more modern-looking than that of the earlier variant – and, of course, our test car is LHD. However, the Spider’s DNA is easily discernible in the ’90s car and, in essence, there isn’t a huge difference between the two. Indeed, both have the same short leg/ long arm driving position so familiar in many Italian cars – although, in that respect, the later car is slightly better.

You immediately hear a much bigger difference when you crank up the engines. The older Spider needs a few dabs on the throttle to prime the Webers – there is a manual choke control, but its usually best left alone. Twist the key and, after a few coughs, the twin-cam bursts into life with a pleasing exhaust crackle. Dip the accelerator and you can hear the twin-choke Webers gulping in great lung-fulls of air.

Out on the road, these early cars respond well to driver input and are definitely at their best when storming over twisting country roads. While some may prefer the extra powered offered by the later 2.0-litre Spiders, the 1750 engine is such a sweet unit – and well endowed with torque – that it feels much more sporting than the larger twin-cams fitted to the later cars.

These early iterations of the Spider are best driven with the top down. With the soft-top erected, wind noise can be very annoying, especially at motorway speeds. At least the Spider’s soft-top is simple to raise and lower – indeed, it is believed that Mazda used the Alfa’s soft-top mechanism as the model when designing the MX-5.

With the wind in your hair on a sunny day, the Spider is a sports car that brings a big grin to your face – just be careful about its relatively vulnerable nose, as those pretty bumpers really don’t offer a serious level of protection. And the long, round tail is equally at risk. That’s something to bear close to mind – body parts and replacement bumpers are unavailable for these cars, and second-hand parts are hard to find.

By comparison, the S4 Spider provides a more civilised experience. Handling remains virtually unaltered, although power steering allows for easier progress through crowded city streets. Despite its larger engine, our test S4 car is slightly slower than the lighter round-tailed Spider but, on the road, it’s hard to spot any real difference in performance between the two cars. However, with the optional hard-top fitted, the later car was much quieter. In this the S4 is also helped by a noticeably higher level of build quality – everything seems to fit better and feel more solid. As well, these ’90s Spiders had the benefit of being constructed from higher-quality steel – whereas the early cars always seemed to have rust built in to their bodies.

Summing up, the 1750 Spider is very much a point-to-point sports car, in its element along cut and thrust country roads, whereas the later Spider Veloce comes over more as a well-equipped GT. And while the ’90s car is capable of storming over B roads, when driving it you can’t help feeling it’d be more at home simply cruising from city to city.

Although different in some aspects, both these versions of the Spider are plainly imbued with same unmistakable strain of DNA, and both are a delight to drive – it’s no wonder that these Alfas remain much loved by sports cars enthusiasts around the globe.

Weaving the Web: Spider Facts

• Spider is an Italian coach-building term – perhaps best described in the words of Alfa Romeo Spider designer, Pininfarina: “La vettura sportive oer eccelenza, generalamenta a 2 posti, con carrozzeria aperta e capote ripiegabile.” If your Italian is a little rusty, that translates as – the sports car par excellence, generally two seats with open bodywork and a folding hood.
• As a publicity exercise, in 1966 Alfa Romeo turned to a public competition to find a name for its new sports car. Over 140,000 people sent in their suggestions, with the winning name ‘Duetto’ sent in by Guidobaldi Trionfi of Brescia. Duetto means ‘duet’ in English, and could have referred to the car’s two seats, or perhaps its twin-cam engine.
• Although early Spiders are sometimes referred to as ‘boat-tail’ or ‘round-tail’ – the Italians called it ‘coda di rospo’ (cuttlefish tail).
• The Duetto Spider’s distinctive tail was probably inspired by Alfa’s famous ‘Disco Volante’ (flying saucer) concept car.
• In 1970, the Spider’s tail was shortened, following the ideals first conveyed by aerodynamic wizard, Wunibald Kamm, who advocated a sharply cut-off tail – or ‘Kammheck’ – as being more aerodynamically efficient.
• In order to ‘federalise’ the Spider for the huge US market, Alfa introduced Spica fuel injection in 1968 for US models only. European-spec Spiders would not receive fuel injection until the launch of the S4 cars in 1990.

Last-of-the-line Spider

Our featured S4 Spider Veloce was purchased in 1997 by Roger Philips – current owner of Beacham & Philips in Waiuku – who, at that time, was working in an exotic car dealership on the US West Coast. The previous possessor, who had owned the car since 1991, was a professor at Notre Dame University in California. At the time of Roger’s purchase, the Spider came with all its original sales dockets, service records and a San Diego salesman’s card. The car showed 40,000 miles (64,374km) on the clock and Roger bought it for his wife, Fay, to use as her everyday driver.

The Spider was fully serviced in Orange county by Stewart Sandeman of Alfa Performance Connection, and retrofitted with a performance stainless steel exhaust, while Auto Delta lowered while an Auto Delta-supplied package of lowered re-rated springs and shock absorbers was also fitted. Larger alloy wheel were also installed and a hardtop was purchased for security reasons.

Roger has always been into motor sport, so it wasn’t surprising to learn that, on the odd weekend, he would ‘steal’ his wife’s Spider and take it out for a blast on the race-track – and he raced the Alfa at El Centro airfield, Willow Springs and Parump Nevada race circuits with some success.

Eventually, Roger and Fay returned to New Zealand and the Spider was shipped here prior to their arrival, being held in storage until they landed in Auckland in 1999.

During the New Zealand registration process, the driver airbag was removed and, after a period of use, the Spider was sold to a third owner – Charles Lockie of Auckland. Charles fitted a wood-rimmed steering wheel, ran the car for a while and then sold it back to Fay. At that time, 2007, the Spider was fitted with a new clutch thrust bearing and new suspension bushes all round.

Just prior to the car being sold yet again last year, we were able to take a drive in it before it went to new owners in Cambridge. It is believed that the Cambridge-based couple then traded the car in with a second-hand dealer – its current location is unknown.

Species of Spider

1966    Duetto – 1570cc twin-cam engine (80kW) with top speed of 172kph (107mph). Duetto Production (1966-’67): 6325
1967    1750 Veloce – rebadged Duetto, now with 1779cc twin-cam (98kW), top speed 1190kph (18mph).
1750 Veloce S1 Production (1967-’69): 3280
1970    S2 cars introduced – Duetto-style round-tail replaced by cut-off, Kamm-type rear-end – Spider’s overall length shortened by 152mm. Interior revised with instrument cowls replacing earlier flat dashboard. Engine power up to 91kW.
1750 Veloce S2 Production (1970-’73): 5421
1968    1300 Junior – 1290cc, 65kW (87bhp), 171kph (106mph). Smaller capacity car to avoid Italy’s harsh tax laws; identifiable by lack of head light covers. RHD cars rare, this model not often seen outside its home country. 1300 Junior Production (1968-’69): 2680
1971    2000 Spider Veloce – 1962cc, 98kW (131bhp), 200kph (124mph). Limited slip differential now fitted. Styling changes included a broader front grille, modified side-lights and recessed door handles.  2000 Veloce Production (1971-’89): 38,019
1972    1600 Junior – Italy only model, 1570cc, 81kW. 1600 Junior Production (1972-’81): 11,323
1982    S3 cars – Aerodinamica – introduced with restyled nose, vestigial Alfa grille and rubber tail spoiler. Aerodinamica 2000 (1962cc/ 94kW), Aerodinamica 1600 (1570cc/ 76kW)
1985    2000 Quadrifoglio Verde (1962cc/ 97kW) introduced.
1986    2000 Quadrifoglio Verde receives new, integrated front spoiler and side skirts. S3 Production (1982-’90) (all models): 39,059
1989    S4 introduced with colour-coded and restyled bumpers. Bosch fuel-injection (1962cc/ 86kW) S4 Production (1990-’93) (all models): 21,775
1994    Production ceases, with all-new fwd Spider appearing in 1995. Total Duetto/ Spider Production: 127,882

Words: Allan Walton Photos: Dan Wakelin and Adam Croy

This article is from Classic Car issue 235. Click here to check it out.

In 1979, Eoin was privileged to be able to drive a truly famous racing car – the ex Tazio Nuvolari Alfa Romeo P3, a car that had also been raced in New Zealand by Les Moore, Ron Roycroft and Bill Clark.

Up there on the nose is a familiar badge – a black prancing horse on a yellow background: Ferrari. The clues start coming together. A P3 Alfa Romeo with a Ferrari badge. A pre-war works car entered by Enzo Ferrari in the days before he built his own cars. In fact, it is the very same car that Tazio Nuvolari drove to glory that July day in 1935 when he won the German Grand Prix on the Nürburgring, defeating the massed might of the Mercedes-Benz and Auto Union teams. The Führer was most definitely not amused. It was one of the feats that feed the Nuvolari legend. A great man in a great car in 1935 – and I was being offered a drive in 1979.

Today, this most famous of all racing P3 Alfa Romeos is owned by Jon Shirley in Washington State, but 40 years ago Christchurch collector, Bill Clark, had rescued it from near scrap and commissioned its total restoration.

A Turn at the Wheel

The first thing that caught my attention was the long, lithe bonnet with its ranks of louvres. It glistened bright, shiny, toffee-apple red, almost rippling in the sunshine like the flanks of a just-groomed stallion. The P3 Alfa Romeo monoposto has always been a car that is visually stimulating. It oozes vintage action. Close to, it was smaller than I had expected. The seat is an over-stuffed club armchair. The drainpipe exhaust marches down the side.

You sit behind the wheel with a broad spread of legs to reach clutch and brake spaced either side of the transmission tunnel. The gear lever is cranked out to the left. My host for the day, Bill Clark, explained that the shift pattern is odd in that you move the lever forward for first then across to the right and forward again for second, using the two top legs of the conventional H rather than slicing straight back for second. The P3 was originally fitted with a four-speed gearbox, but as the engine capacity was increased, so the transmission had to be beefed up, and because there was no room in the standard P3 casing for bigger gears, they chose to drop one of the forward speeds and go for three fatter cogs.

We were making our runs on a deserted country back road near Clark’s farm, and lowering skies urged us to hurry. I had a moment to wonder why the driving seat was so high when the P3 inherited the split prop-shaft from its Type A ancestor, which boasted two engines side-by-side with crankshafts geared together. There are those who say the car should really be a Type B if the Alfa Romeo family tree is to be strictly followed, but it was called a P3 in the Italian papers soon after it started winning in the 1930s, and it has been a P3 ever since.

The clutch take-up catches the rear wheels and you don’t just move forward, you have a feeling of being flung – catapulted up the road. The polished quick-release caps for the reserve fuel tank on the scuttle and the water radiator so far forward along the slim, red, strapped-down bonnet become rifle sights with the narrowing stretch of bitumen as the target.

As the Alfa gathered pace the front wheels started to dart and I eased back. I accelerated again and once more the car took control. It is really quite frightening knowing you are behind the wheel of a car worth millions. I tried to drive through the speed at which the front wheels begin their dance, but it isn’t possible: the shimmy merely increases.

Then I recalled Roy Salvadori recounting his experiences with this car when he owned it in the late 1940s. He wasn’t at all impressed with the P3. At Chimay: “It was a toss-up whether you passed the car in front, hit it, or went through the fence. It was fast, but it was all over the place.” So perhaps I wasn’t alone in my assessment. Nuvolari must have been a superman to have coped with this on the Nürburgring for four hours. I explained the feeling to Clark, but he was reluctant to listen to criticism of a car that had cost him so much care, time and money. Something, it seems, was not as it should be – but who is to know if they aren’t all like this? Didn’t Salvadori confirm the quirk?

Solving the Suspension

A few weeks after my road test, I received a letter from Murray Jones (*), an engineer and friend of Clark’s, who had thoroughly examined the front suspension of the P3 in the light of the handling symptoms described to him, and discovered that the stepped keys which determine the castor angle had been reversed in the rebuild, giving positive instead of the required negative castor. “It must have been like driving at high-speed in reverse in a front-wheel-drive car,” he said in his letter. He and Clark had cured the problem, taking a couple of hours one Sunday afternoon to transform the handling so the car was once more the thoroughbred it must have been when Nuvolari raced and they knew which way the castor keys were supposed to go. One assumes all this was a mystery to Roy Salvadori in the days when suspension setting-up was called putting a few more pounds in the tyres.

It turned out that the problem had been solved a generation earlier by Ralph Watson, working on the car for Ron Roycroft. He spent a month trying to cure the Alfa’s front wheel flap, and he did it by making new step keys and stiffening the shocks up so the wheels didn’t flap so much. He also suggested that Ron didn’t grip the steering wheel so hard! The new stepped keys allowed the axle beam to be rotated in the clamps that held it to the chassis.

The P3 had been bought by Les Moore in 1950 during a trip to the UK to introduce teenage son Ronnie to a career of speedway stardom at Wimbledon. Ronnie would win the World Championship in 1954 and 1959, and was runner-up three times. He remembered going to Salvadori’s showroom on the Kingston bypass, and Roy mentioning that if Les was so keen on aged Alfa racers, perhaps he would be interested in the sports car in his basement. It was the car that Earl Howe and Tim Birkin had driven to win the Le Mans 24-hour race in 1931. Les bought that as well – the Alfa bargain of the era.

Les would win the Lady Wigram Trophy with the P3 in 1951 and 1952. He then sold the car to Ron Roycroft, who won at Wigram again in 1953. The Nürburgring mantle of fame had been transferred to the Wigram airfield circuit.

A Beautiful Noise

After I had climbed out of the P3 and watched Clark drive away, memories and emotions – until then held in check by the excitement of actually driving – flooded my mind. The smell. The aroma of Castrol R and dope fuel that wafted back into the cockpit – the perfume of what racing used to be like when you could see the driver at work.

And the noise!

The sound of the supercharged Alfa engine provides yet another dimension to driving. Not so much a noise, more a piece of Italian piano excitement that rises to a crescendo. At a 1500rpm idle, the beat is slightly uneven, but as the revs build up, so the music gathers force, the supercharger chiming in as accompaniment. It’s difficult to capture the sound on paper, but the P3’s solo on a straight exhaust is always commented on when people first hear it. It has something in common with the excitement and urgency of Italian music, a likeness more striking than in the case of a Bentley or Bugatti.

In 1989 this famous Alfa Romeo was sold by Christies, at one of its Monaco auctions, for £1.8 million (US$2.68 million/ $3.76 million as this issue went to press).

It was a genuine privilege to have been able to drive this truly historic monoposto, and my short road-test of the ex-Nuvolari P3 all those years ago in 1979 is still firmly lodged within my mind as one of my most truly memorable experiences.

Tazio’s Tortoise

I was always under the impression that the tortoise symbol Tazio Nuvolari used as his own was actually the provincial badge of the Mantua part of Italy. Not so, according to British expatriate historic racer, Jason Wright, who lives near Lake Garda in Italy. Jason was racing an Alfa at the Goodwood Revival, and he told me the Tazio tortoise story.

It seems a 1930s Italian poet, Gabriel D’Annunzio, had an aged tortoise as a family pet which eventually died, and the distraught D’Annunzio had it stuffed and all its extremities gold-plated. It stood on his table in the dining room of his villa overlooking Lake Garda, and he adopted the tortoise as his personal badge.

He was regarded as Poet Laureate in Italy, and if any Italian personage performed what he regarded as a feat of note, he would award him a tortoise lapel pin. He met Nuvolari early in 1932, gave him a gold tortoise pin and commanded him to win the Targa Florio, which he duly did. From then on Nuvolari always wore a tortoise pin, then had a tortoise with his TN initials embroidered on his racing sweater and on his letterheads. When he bought a plane in 1940, he had a large tortoise badge painted on the fuselage.

D’Annunzio’s home, Vittorale, overlooking Lake Garda, is now a stately home and open to the public. Among the masses of gifts and tributes on display is a badly bent steering wheel. The poet was friendly with the drivers of power boats on the lake, and he proposed the idea of record runs on the lake back in the 1930s. The Coppa del Oltranza is still run with modern boats, racing flat out, one at a time. When Sir Henry Segrave was killed in an attempt on the Water Speed Record in 1930, D’Annunzio sent a poem in praise of his achievements to Lady Doris Segrave, and she was so moved that she sent him the wheel from the wrecked record boat.

When Nuvolari died in 1953 he was buried wearing his racing uniform of blue trousers and yellow jersey with the tortoise motif on his breast.

Tazio used to sign autograph books for friends with a sketch of a tortoise instead of his usual signature. This was burned into my brain one long hot summer (remember when we used to have long hot summers?). There was a very special book of autographs being offered in a Christies sale. The owner had listed all the famous racing drivers who had signed his book, starting back in the 1920s. I pored through the tome, marvelling at the names and signatures, but then realised I couldn’t find Nuvolari’s signature – and I knew what it looked like because I had several of Tazio’s original handwritten documents, signed by him. These were telegrams from his personal files, spirited out of Italy by a dealer before the Italian Heritage folk moved in and stopped auctions of racing memorabilia in Italy. Tazio sat at his desk in Mantua, wrote his message in longhand on the telegram form, signed it and took it to the telegraph office where the operator tapped it down the line, franked the original and gave it back to Tazio for his files. I also have some of his hand-written expenses records!

I pointed out to the Christies man that there was no Nuvolari signature, the Christies man agreed, and when the lot was offered the lack of a Tazio moniker was pointed out. I forget what the album fetched – too much for me – but vividly recall a completely incidental ’phone call I made that evening to a customer who had an apartment in Spain. I was telling him about this amazing autograph book and the missing Nuvolari signature, and to my amazement he said; “Oh that belonged to ‘Mort’ Goodall. He’s my next door neighbour down here. I’ll tell him what happened.” I could hear him shouting the news round the corner of his balcony, and I could also hear the bellow of rage from Mort, the historic Aston Martin campaigner, who then pointed out to his neighbour that there had never been a signature – Nuvolari had drawn him a little tortoise! To my eternal credit, I never admitted that it was me who pointed out the apparent shortfall in the signature department.

By Eoin Young

The Tour Auto, as it is now known, commenced in 1951 as the Tour de France, the legendary automobile race. Today the event is still revered by the people of France, as is evident by the thousands of fans waving, smiling and clapping as 250 classic cars — ranging in age from 40 to 58 years old — race through some of the most scenic of countryside throughout Europe. You will have seen the Tour de France bike race on TV — well I wouldn’t be so bold as to compare this event with that, but it looked pretty impressive from behind the wheel of one of these special competing beauties.

The event is divided into two basic plateaus. There is the ‘regularity’ section, which is based on a nominated predicted time to do a stage, and then there is the ‘competition’ section in which it’s as fast as you can, and is very competitive but always with a mind to enjoyment and bonhomie.

If you have an understanding of our Targa here in New Zealand, you will see some major variations. This event is also to do with very fast country open road touring (but don’t get caught) — some days as much as 500km — and a visit to a race track every day, at which you will have around a hour of racing, but always without your co-driver. Not bad tracks either — Dijon and Spa for example — are they special enough? Lunches are exquisite and always in a lovely country setting, but without the wine and cigars that were evident on Tour de Espana.

The Cars:

Beauties there were a-plenty. For Ferrari fans yes there was a 250 GTO, several 250 SWBs, many Dinos and a dozen 275s in various configurations [Paul owns a Ferrari 275GTB]. Sorry, I forgot to mention the Lussos, a 250 Boano, a TdF, and an Ellena.

Plenty of those pesky, reliable 911s were in evidence along with a range of 904s, 906s and even a 910. A number of GT40s, even ones that won at Le Mans at the hands of the Kiwi drivers of those times. So much machinery, so precious and so beautifully prepared.

I was fascinated and intrigued to see the French, the Germans, the Italians driving and having love affairs with British cars, and in turn the English driving cars from the continent. The latter seems far more understandable to me. However, the Frenchmen driving those Citroën SMs — that would be an acquired taste only a true patriot could muster up.

Other makes which received lots of attention were a well-presented team of Alpines, Jaguars, Aston Martins and the GT40s. One of these was the first car home, as it was in the Le Mans 24 hour race of 1969.

Alfa Romeos, especially 1600 GTAs, are a very popular choice as they meet many of the entry requirements, and provide a very fair representation of the motor racing in that period of time.

And, talking of Alfas, an Alfa Guilia Sprint 1600 GTA would be the car in which I chose to compete in the Tour Auto 2009.

The Route

Day one was Paris to Beaune, 429km. After leaving the Jardin Des Tuileries there was an early morning 40-minute sprint to the very famous in history L’Autodrome de Linas Montlhery. This is a high speed ring constructed back in 1924, which allowed cars weighing 1000kg to reach 220kph. The track also extends for 12.5km, but alas the ring itself has fallen into disrepair.

Tour de France Automobile was here back in the years 1956 to1960. The French Grand Prix of 1925, 1927, 1931, 1933, 1934, 1936 and 1937 were held at Montlhery. Unfortunately, the first year saw the Alfa Romeo driver, Antonio Ascari, have his fatal accident while the French President was in attendance. So it was with great expectation and interest we arrived and raced at this famous track, steeped in such history and significance to the French.

There was another special stage before we all descended upon Circuit of Dijon Prenois. This was Michael Sexton’s day to drive, and he flew. Although the car was running very rough at less than 3500rpm, we soon figured the way to solve that was to bury the boot. The theory worked at full noise but manoeuvring through villages wasn’t great for the clutch or the image.

Day Two

Beaune to Mulhouse, the town with the fabulous car and train museums. That meant 412km plus the Circuit of La Bresse, followed by two special stages — however, our Alfa GTA was suffering from a niggling engine miss which we couldn’t quite pin down a cause for. The La Bresse track was only a few years old and mainly used for club and corporate days. It is well constructed and it was a pleasure to be able to drift wide from apex to apex without looming Armco to interrupt the enjoyment. In normal NZ circumstances this track would be superb — but we had Spa to look forward to.

At the end of day two both Michael — my co-driver — and myself were having to pinch ourselves to remind us that we were racing in a fabulous special factory-built car and competing with machinery that would make any boy’s mouth water — cars that one can usually only dream about.

We needed to go back to Mulhouse to do justice to both museums.

Day Three

Michael is back behind the wheel as we drive from Mulhouse to Luxembourg, with 415km of touring and scenery that’s more Germanic, with towns and villages and names more akin to what you would expect of Germany.

The two special stages of Epreuve Col du Firstplan and Turkheim were dealt to by Michael with a flourish, followed by the track session at Cheneviere.

This was a calamity of confusion for us poor English-speaking chaps. At the last moment we discovered that it had been ruled by Les Commissaires Sportifs that we were not to race as per usual with the driver alone, but rather as a road special stage — that means with co-driver on board. Having divested the co-driver and all the extra paraphernalia from the car — and with the service crew some distance from the track — there was a mad scramble to retrieve the situation. In a cool and unflustered way, we Kiwis were there ready to rock and roll on time.

Michael had studied a track plan of sorts (written in French, of course) and had figured the direction and intricacies. Sacre bleu! Some of those corners weren’t quite what we expected but, as usual, we acquitted ourselves with a good result. None of the local drivers had raced there before, so that put us on an equal footing. Merci!

The day ended with an experience to gladden any petrol-head’s heart. On arriving at the outskirts of Luxembourg we were corralled into a posse of 50 cars or so, then under police motorbike escort we charged into town, displacing the evening traffic trying to get out of town on a Friday night.

At this time the generator in our Alfa had failed and, perfectly placed in a major piazza, the car stalled. No way would she start, so yours truly had to push the car while Michael performed a clutch start. He was astounded how hard I had pushed to bring about the restart, however, I had to confess that I had enlisted a local Luxembourgian to help accomplish the task. The crowd went wild.

Day Four

A very special day for me, starting very early with a two-and-a-half hour drive to Spa Francorchamps. I was to race one of the greatest circuits in Europe, one that has history engrained in each metre of its tar seal. It’s a full-blown F1 track — and one that the best drivers in the world love with a passion and, at the same time, treat with caution. There aren’t many tracks in the world that provide such high speed cornering that if you get it right the thrill is immense — get it wrong at these high speeds and it can hurt.

Au Rouge — there is not enough space to talk you through this sensation, needless to say on about the third lap I yelled at myself — “Go through flat, you tosser, you haven’t come all this way to feather it.” Oh my god — what a sensation. Top gear, foot to the floor and feeling that unweighting. Superb.

Here two of the competition plateaus were joined together as the circuit is large enough to accommodate many cars. The practice as it turned out went for 30 minutes and the bonus (as I had thought that was the race) went for another 30 minutes. Sacre bleu — another dream come true.

When touring from Spa to another wonderful stop for dejeuner we finally pin-pointed the source of the missing at low revs. The high tension lines were arcing, and by making do with a mismatched replacement set we finally got to feel what the motor would deliver when it was on song. Life was good.

Day Five

The final day — 431km.

Leaving the horse race track of Marcq-en-Baroeul we headed for Normandy and celebrations at Deauville. Michael was at the wheel for two special stages — Vallee de La Somme and Pays de Dieppe, a six and a nine-kilometre stage respectively.

Oh well, let’s do what the others are doing — light her up and perform at the roundabouts for the locals. Another police escort into town. Fantastic fun.

In entering the Tour Auto, our goals had been to successfully finish the event and, just as importantly, to thoroughly enjoy the experience. We achieved both our goals and, to finish as 10th car home on the Index of Merit (a mixture of components involving classifying individual cars against others) and 19th overall in our competition was a welcome bonus. We were consistently the second Alfa GTA both on track and closed road special stages and, as a consequence, were the first GTA home.

A perfect ending to a very special event — and an experience that will remain in fond memory.

The Car: Alfa Guilia Sprint 1600 GTA (Alleggerita) #752501

The GTA in which I competed on the Tour Auto 2009 was manufactured on September 9, 1965, and sold to Autodelta on September 28, 1965. It is believed that this GTA raced in Italy during the ’60s. Autodelta, which specialised in racing Alfa Romeos — effectively as a works-backed privateer — was acquired by the factory in 1964.

The GTA was produced as a road-going production model from 1965 to 1969, and 1000 were produced of which 50 were RHD cars.

These special alleggerita (lightened) Alfas featured aluminium panels and plexiglass windows, although the main structure was steel. Items such as the bellhousing, crankcase cover and cam cover are all in alloy. These lightweight parts resulted in over 220kg being shaved off the weight of the standard cars. In addition, the Autodelta GTAs also boasted an increase in engine power to 130kW.

The works Autodelta cars had many successes at tracks such as Spa, Nürburgring, Monza and Zandvoort in the hands as such great drivers as Jochen Rindt and several lesser known privateers.

The GTAs were also successful in the early ’70s in the European Touring Car Championships.

This car was the first RHD Autodelta GTA to be produced, and was built as it suited clockwise tracks with the driver sitting on the right.

Words and Photos: Paul Halford

Around 1976, when I was living and working in London, a close friend came to me for a spot of advice. He’d just got himself a new job, and as part of his new employment package he was invited to pick out a new company car for himself. At that time, I don’t think the term ‘executive car’ had been coined — certainly, there was no such thing as a yuppie back then; that aphorism would not gain any currency until the early ’80s. However, my friend was certainly on the look-out for an executive car — at that time, I suspect, more commonly known as a sports saloon.

He’d already zeroed in on two cars, the first of which was a BMW 3 Series. In 1976 this BMW was still fresh to the market, having only been released the previous year when it had replaced the very popular 2002 — and the six-cylinder 323i he was looking at had only just been unleashed onto the UK market. However, my friend was unfamiliar with Teutonic cars, having a distinct preference for everything Italian — and that included spaghetti, lambrusco, Sophia Loren and, of course, Alfa Romeos — indeed, his personal transport was an Alfa 105 GTV. Which brings me to his second choice — a brand spanking new Alfetta saloon. In 1976, the Alfetta — which borrowed its name from Alfa Romeo’s glorious Grand Prix cars — was already around four years old.

One sunny Saturday morning, I met up with my friend with a view to taking both the 323i and the Alfetta out for a test drive.

The Alfetta was always going to come second in this comparison; its 97kW, 1779cc four banger was never going to match the silken power (106kW) of BMW’s lovely straight six. Indeed, this was the case — the BMW was much faster than the Alfa and, just to make things more uneven, the German machine also felt sharper and more agile than the Italian. However, the crunch-point came when we researched depreciation statistics. Quite simply, the Alfetta couldn’t even approach the BMW in this respect. The BMW was more highly priced and this wasn’t helped by the fact that, while securing a discount on a new Alfa was straightforward, it would’ve been easier to find an honest politician in Thatcherite Britain than inveigling a BMW dealer into knocking off a few quid from the list price of a 3 Series. Anyway, the real sticker was Alfa’s rust-bucket reputation.

Mind you, this didn’t just apply to Alfa Romeo, it was a broad-based perception, especially in the UK, of most Italian cars.

In the mid 1970s this sort of belief wasn’t helped at all by the debacle of the Lancia Beta — a car which had been roundly criticised for its rustability. Put quite simply, Italian cars — with their cheap Russian-sourced steel — just couldn’t handle harsh UK conditions, which included roads that were regularly salted during the winter months. The upshot of the rusty Beta saga was that Lancia withdrew from the UK market — permanently!

This, I recall, really upset my late uncle who, at that time, maintained a large collection of Lancias ranging from Aurelias and Appias to a gorgeous Flaminia. I always reckoned that, when my uncle departed the UK to live in Spain in the early ’80s, he’d made the move so he could continue to buy Lancias. Alas, he soon discovered that modern representatives of his chosen marque were only marginally longer-lasting in the warmer Spanish climate. In the end, he took to using a Volvo — the epitome of durability — as his everyday driver although, of course, he would continue to cherish his earlier Lancias right up to his final days.

A Genuine BMW Rival

What the above illustrates is that Alfa Romeo simply didn’t have a car that could favourably compete with the BMW 3 Series during the ’70s. The Italian marque was doing better in the sportier market with the Alfetta GTV and the Spider, but it was falling way behind its German rivals when it came to sporting saloons. And as we moved into the ’80s — yuppiedom and executive expresses — it seemed that my friend would forever be tied to a BMW or a Mercedes-Benz.

Fortunately for drivers who preferred Italian brio, Alfa Romeo had spotted the missing executive car link in its range, and as early as 1984 was already working towards a solution. Following a gruelling test and development phase — which saw test ‘mules’ and pre-production cars hammered over a variety of roads and harsh environments (including a stint on desert roads in Morocco) — it launched its 164 at the Frankfurt Motor Show in 1987, obviously choosing that show as a warning to BMW.

With fashionable, wedge-shaped styling courtesy of Pininfarina, the new 164 was a bit of a landmark car for Alfa Romeo. It was the last car developed by Alfa before it became part of Fiat — by the time the 164 was in production, Fiat was already in charge. It was also the first of Alfa’s large front-wheel-drive cars and, more importantly, the first Alfa made from good quality steel. As well, the 164’s all-new chassis — which it would share with the Fiat Croma, Lancia Thema and Saab 9000 — promised good handling and refinement; although many lamented the loss of rear-wheel drive.

Packed with loads of hi-tech goodies — from heated electrically adjustable leather-trimmed seats to sports adaptive suspension in the higher end models — the 164 was aimed squarely at the newly popular executive market.

Although the 164 would be available with a variety of engines — including 2.0-litre turbo, 2.0-litre Twinspark, 2.0-litre V6 turbo and even a 2.5-litre turbo-diesel — it is the 3.0-litre V6 versions which attracted the most praise. Indeed, this V6 — complete with its highly polished inlet tracts — would soon be hailed as one of Alfa’s very best engines.

Under Fiat management, further development of the 164 would be swift and efficient. Automatic transmission was introduced in 1989, with the entry-level 2.0-litre Twinspark model following the next year. However, for enthusiasts the real news centred on the more powerful, top-of-the-line QV (quadrifoglio, or four-leaf clover) version which debuted in late 1990.

In 1993 Alfa released a second generation 164 with revised headlights, larger bumpers and a better instrument panel design. Once again, the best stuff came with the V6 models, with a quad-cam, 24-valve version making its appearance in two forms — the Super and the more powerful QV. Interestingly, in the same year Alfa also launched the 164 Q4 which, as the name suggests, featured four-wheel drive. This car’s 4WD system, developed in conjunction with Steyr-Puch, utilised a viscous coupling, a central epicyclic differential and a Torsen differential in the rear. The Q4 was fitted with a Getrag six-speed manual gearbox rather than Alfa’s own five-speeder.

As a measure of the 164’s popularity, well over a quarter of a million examples were made until the model was replaced by the 166 in 1988.

On The Road

Step inside the leather-lined cockpit of a 164 and you know that you’re in for an executive experience, as evidenced by a plethora of switches, gauges and gadgets — you can even keep your bum warm on a cold day with the heated seats.

While this is all well and good for the busy exec who wants a selection of toys to play with while stuck in rush hour gridlock, more enthusiastic drivers will be keener to sample the car’s more dynamic attributes which are plainly signalled from the moment you start Alfa’s beautifully creamy V6. And, once you’re on the move and open up the engine, there are even more aural delights on offer.

I’ve driven many a mile under the power of Alfa’s 3.0-litre V6, but every time I get the chance to sample one I’m drawn in by the intoxicating sounds emanating from this engine. The V6 isn’t about exhaust crackle, it’s all about induction noise — revving through the gears makes the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention, and the sound is even better on the overrun as you peg backwards through the gears.

Alfa’s V6 orchestra is well matched to the 164’s handling. Sure, like most readers I’d prefer a traditional rear-driver, but the 164 has to be one of the better-handling front-wheel-drive cars I’ve driven. To be certain, like all cars of its ilk the 164 does betray some torque steer — although as our test car was a later, 1994 QV, it was better in this respect than earlier examples I had previously driven. However, torque steer isn’t too obtrusive, and it takes little away from the 164’s relatively neutral handling balance.

As an added bonus, the electronic damping system in our test car was fully functional and worked a treat — although the temptation to hit the ‘Sport’ button and tighten up the ride and handling was too much, so we didn’t really do much motoring in ‘Normal’ mode.

Like most front-wheel-drive cars, the 164’s nose tends to plough outwards under very spirited driving but, helped out by very positive steering, the Alfa remains easy to control even when you’re approaching the ragged edge of the car’s handling envelope.

Stopping isn’t a problem either, all V6-powered 164s received ventilated front disc brakes and in our test car they worked well, stopping the car quickly and all-square.

It may not be a real beauty, but the Alfa Romeo 164 comes across as a handsome car and, with its deep spoiler, side-skirts and be-winged boot-lid, it certainly looks very purposeful. Find a good, well cared for 164 (four cams have to better than two) and you’ll never be able to get the silly grin off your face. Drive one and you’ll be hard pressed not to be drawn in by the allure of that lovely V6.

Buyers’ Guide

Although it’s possible to pick up a 164 for just a few thousand dollars, you can only expect a high mileage, tired example for that sort of money. For a decent 24-valver the price range will be more like $6000 to $8000, and expect to pay a premium over this for lower mileage examples which have been properly maintained.

It pays to remember that although a V6-engined 164 can be purchased for very few dollars, these are complex machines that will require specialist maintenance. As such, a full service history is a must.

When it comes to checking out a potential purchase, it’s mostly good news when it comes to the 164. Unless they’re severely neglected, you can expect most cars to have solid, mostly rust-free bodies.

However, it pays to check the front sub-frame, rear cross member, and the rear wheel arches alongside the rear doors as they are all prone to rust. Also, front and rear screens sometimes leak — tell-tale signs of a leak are mould or damp carpets. Cars fitted with sun-roofs can also show signs of water leaks, and wing mirror mounts and the blacked-out window trim are areas prone to corrosion.

Mechanically, the 164’s driveline is fairly robust, although it should be noted that the V6 requires regular cambelt changes at the recommended intervals (every 50,000km), and that the tensioner also needs to replaced each time. The V6’s only known weakness is related to its fuel-injection system, so regular fuel filter changes are required. The V6 can misfire under heavy acceleration, usually due to a faulty engine management computer, but if it’s properly maintained it should be possible to get very high mileage from the V6, though its longevity depends on how it’s been treated.

There are no serious issues with the 164’s five-speed gearbox and clutch wear can be heavy, especially if you regularly indulge in tyre-smoking starts.

Now we come to the more problematic areas — electrics and cooling. Of these, it is the electrical system that will probably provide 164 owners with their worst headaches.

All those high-tech toys spell trouble, not helped by brittle, plastic switches and wiring — although most problems should be sortable by a good auto-electrician.

The dashboard LCD display can slowly begin to get hard to read as segments from the display fail. It’s not a biggie, and most 164 owners simply live with an unreadable display.

Of more concern is the 164’s electronic damping system, which appears to be one of the first major systems to cease working. When test-driving a 164, if the ride seems a little harsh it’s probably because the system has failed and it has reverted to the default ‘Sport’ setting, even if ‘Normal’ is selected. Failure could be due to dead or dirty sensors or faulty wiring. In either case, rectification is best handled by a specialist although, if you’re not fussy, it’s perfectly okay to drive a 164 in permanent Sport mode — just expect a jiggly ride over uneven roads at low speeds.

If the electronic damping seems fine, but handling is dodgy, look for sloppy suspension bushes (a good set of Nolathane bushes would be a good investment). Wheel alignment is also crucial to good handling; as a bonus this should also help to smooth out the 164’s tendency towards torque steer.

When it comes to the 164’s cooling system, check the radiator to ensure it is in good condition and that the cooling fans are fully operational — with the air con turned off, the main fan should activate at around 90 degrees. Also check for signs of water pump leaks — replacement is difficult due to their location.

Early 164s had an air distribution problem due to plastic gears within the system failing — which is fixable, but complete dashboard removal is required. Not something for the faint-hearted. Also, check the heater, if you can hear a ‘ticking’ noise when it is on, it’s probably only due to a failed resistor.

Alfa Romeo 164QV 24V- Specifications

Engine 60-degree V6, front transverse
Capacity 2959cc
Bore/ stroke 93×72.6mm
Valves dohc per bank, 24-valve
Fuel system Bosch Motronic fuel injection
Max power 173kW at 6300rpm
Max torque 274Nm at 5000rpm
Transmission Five-speed manual
Suspension F: MacPherson struts, anti-roll bar R: Struts with transverse arms and anti-roll bar
Steering Rack-and-pinion, PAS
Brakes F/R Disc/ disc, ABS
Wheels 15-inch alloy
Tyres 195/65 ZR15

Dimensions:
Overall length 4555mm
Width 1760mm
Wheelbase 2260mm
Kerb weight 1680kg

Performance:
Max speed 240kph
0-100kph 8.0s
Standing ¼ mile 15.8s
Production: 273,857 (all models) 69,748 (V6 models — including Q4 — only)

Words: Allan Walton Photos: Adam Croy

This article is from Classic Car issue 236. Click here to check it out.

Alfa’s classic combination of an all-alloy V6 mated to a de Dion transaxle produced one of the best-handling coupes of the ’80s — Allan checks out a mint survivor

The first thing you notice when you climb aboard one of these ’80s Alfa coupes is the driving position — usually referred to as the ‘Italian ape’ position. If your body is normally proportioned, that means that if you move the driver’s seat too far backwards you’ll barely reach the steering wheel and will need to use the tips of your toes to operate the foot pedals.

Move the seat too far forward and, while you’ll be able to operate the foot pedals properly, the steering wheel will be in your chest. In the end, you accept a compromise and simply find a position that allows you to steer the car adequately without having your knees up around your ears.

It sounds awkward but, a few kilometres down the road you get used to it and, fortunately, the Alfa’s rack-and-pinion steering is light enough at speed to make up for the fact that you can’t quite get into the right position to apply manly leverage to the steering wheel.

However, everything gets a little heavier when it comes to slow speed manoeuvring and parking — you just have to put that down as an exercise in character-building.

Once on the move, though, you’ll quickly notice two disparate but closely linked elements — the sounds of Alfa’s all-alloy V6 and the quality of the gear-change. It was the latter that held itself up for my initial attention.

I once put a lot of kilometres under the belt of a GTV6, so getting reacquainted with our test car’s twin-plate clutch and five-speed gearbox was a little like meeting up with a long lost friend. And, even if I’ve changed over the intervening years, my friend hasn’t — the GTV6’s gear-change still feels odd and rubbery.

It’s not quite in the BMC ‘wooden-spoon-in-a-bowl-of-cold-porridge’ category but, after the first few changes, it certainly leans in that direction.

Fortunately, once I’d got more used to it, things brightened up markedly. It’s not that the GTV6’s gear-change lacks precision, it’s just the combination of floppy gear-lever and narrow gate which catches you out.

Some of this is undoubtedly down to the location of the actual gearbox which is, of course, mounted in unison with the car’s rear axle.

Playing tunes

It may seem less than ideal, but this is one gearbox that repays mastery as it is the driver’s vital link to the other, aforementioned element — the sound of the engine.

And, oddly enough, there’s even a bit of an enigma when you’re discussing Alfa’s 2.5-litre V6.

It was first introduced in the unloved Alfa Six saloon. Contemporary road-testers roundly slated both the car and its V6 engine, as its lack-lustre performance was not felt to conform to Alfa’s sporting traditions.

However, when Alfa Romeo elected to drop the same V6 into a revised Alfetta coupe body, everyone’s opinion changed and admiration for the 2.5-litre V6 was widely expressed. So, how did Alfa effect this volte-face?

A lot was down to the liberating affect of simply shedding weight — the Alfa Six weighed in at 1470kg, 260kg more than the GTV6 — but much was also due to the addition of Bosch L-Jetronic fuel injection and, for its day, a relatively sophisticated engine management system. By comparison, the Alfa Six had sucked petrol through a battery of six Dell’orto carburettors — a system that proved fickle and unreliable. Alfa Romeo was on the cusp of a more modern motoring age and, shorn of the Alfa Six’s accoutrements, the V6 was allowed to shine.

Make no bones about it, this aluminium beauty really sings in the GTV6 and is, without doubt, the heart and soul of this car. That, of course, is why mastering the GTV6’s gear-change is such a important factor. Get it wrong and you’ll only get the consolation prize of gnashing gear-teeth. If mastery eludes you, it is possible to employ the ample supply of torque from the V6 to cut down on cog-swapping — but then you’ll miss out on the full reward of hearing one of the best sounding engines ever produced. Essentially, you’re the conductor, the gear-lever is your baton and that lovely V6 is the symphony orchestra. Time it all properly and you can play some wonderful tunes.

If that all seems a little far-fetched, here’s a line from a letter that famed conductor and self-confessed car enthusiast, Herbert von Karajan, once wrote to Enzo Ferrari — “When I hear your 12 cylinders, I hear a burst of harmony no conductor could ever recreate.” He could just have easily been talking about Alfa’s V6.

Dancing in time to the music

Sounds apart, the GTV6 also offers a very appetising bonus — beautifully precise handling. A lot of this sense of innate balance comes from Alfa’s decision to go with a transaxle, which gave the car a 50/50 weight distribution — it even went for inboard rear brakes to keep unsprung weight to a minimum. With a race-bred combination of a de Dion rear axle, longitudinal torsion bars and responsive, pin sharp steering, the GTV6 feels like a true sports car on the road — literally allowing you to dance in time with the music from the car’s V6.

Press on and you soon discover that the GTV6’s handling tends towards gentle and very predictable understeer, with the rear end showing no signs of sudden breakaway even under hard cornering. When provoked, the tail will step out, but the movement is telegraphed straight to the driver, allowing any errant behaviour to be easily caught.

Our test car, fitted with a recently reconditioned hail and very hearty V6, was even more firmly planted on the road courtesy of some fancy dancing shoes — a set of locally produced, super light three-piece alloy wheels — 16 by seven-inch up front and 16 by eight-inch at the rear (check out our side-bar on 41° Racing Wheels for more information.)

With these bespoke rims wrapped in modern, low profile directional rubber — 225/45 and 245/45 — loads of grip is available and, as an extra, the new wheel and tyre combination gives the Alfa an added air of aggression.

All I could think of to criticise was that the GTV6’s standard, rather high ride height made it feel as if it were standing on tip-toes. Not a real problem, other than cosmetically, but it did mean the car displayed a tendency to float a little over high speed road undulations.

On this particular car, that tendency will soon be tamed as a set of Shankle springs and uprated sway bars — together with a lowered ride height — are to be added to the overall formula. These final modifications should give the GTV6 even more precision. You really couldn’t ask for more in a sporting coupe, and our test car is a real time capsule. Sold new by Continental Car Services, this GTV6 — surprisingly for a car of this type — has only ever had two registered owners. All servicing on the car has been handled by Continental throughout its life, and accompanying service records show this Alfa has only covered 115,000 kilometres — regular servicing and low mileage, for its age, goes some way to explaining why this particular GTV6 drives so tautly.

In addition to the wheel and suspension alterations, the exterior and interior of the GTV6 has also been tidied up considerably, including cosmetic repairs to both front and
rear bumpers.

Changing times

But I digress; back to the birth of the GTV6. By the mid ’70s, Alfa’s venerable 105 series GTV was showing its age and a more modern replacement was required. Giugiaro’s styling of the 105 GTV had been such a success that it was natural for Alfa Romeo to go back to Bertone, where Giugiaro was still working, for the replacement. In what would become one of his final projects for Bertone, Giugiaro penned a very stylish coupe on a shortened Alfetta saloon floor pan.

Released in 1974 as the Alfetta GTV, the new Alfa would eventually become available with either 1.6-litre, 1.8-litre or 2.0-litre twin-cam engines.

Taking into consideration modern conditions and demands, the new Alfetta was surprisingly roomy inside — easily the most spacious coupe ever to come from Alfa Romeo at that time.

However, the biggest change came in 1981 when Alfa dropped the Alfa Six’s 2.5-litre V6 into the car to produce the GTV6 — now in fuel-injected form rather than carburetted as in the Alfa Six (the Alfa Six would eventually also gain fuel injection.)

In order to clear the intake on the V6, the bonnet of the GTV6 received a bulge — apart from the badging, this is the most noticeable difference between the Alfetta GTV and the GTV6. The new GTV6 drew instant praise from the motoring press, and enthusiasm for the worth of the car was proved on the race circuit when the GTV6 won the European Touring Car Championship an amazing four times in succession from 1982 to 1985. In the capable hands of Andy Rouse, a GTV6 also claimed the 1983 British Touring Car Championship.

GTV6 Specials

To a certain extent, the popularity of the GTV6 was also demonstrated by the number of special versions that became available. In South Africa, where Alfa Romeos were assembled alongside Datsuns in Pretoria, a turbocharged GTV6 was produced. Around 750 cars ere fitted with a single Garrett turbocharger, fed through a NACA duct. Interestingly, the South African market would also produce a 3.0-litre GTV6 well before Alfa Romeo introduced a V6 of that capacity for the European market, although never for the GTV6. About 200 of these special GTV6s were manufactured to homologate the car for racing. Over in the US, the GTV6 also quickly gained popularity, and the car went through several limited edition models, including now sought after models such as the GTV6 Balocco and Maratona. Even Callaway Cars — now famed for its go-faster, bespoke Corvettes — tried its hand at modifying the GTV6, building around 30 Calloway versions complete with twin turbochargers, revised suspension and big brakes. A twin-turbo GTV6 was also available for a short time in Australia.

The music master

We’ll leave the final word on the GTV6 to Alfa Romeo itself. Its publicity department penned these words back in the ’80s.

“From the first time you take the wheel of the GTV6 you will understand what performance driving is all about. With the superior levels of power and control, and a perfect balance of both, the GTV6 redefines driving as an art. An art that we have learned from over 100 Grand Prix victories.”

On the strength of an afternoon’s drive in our featured GTV6, I’d say that for once, the PR spin doctors got it right!

1985 Alfa Romeo GTV6 – Specifications

Engine: All-alloy V6
Capacity: 2492cc
Bore/stroke: 88 x 68.30mm
Comp ratio: 9.00:1
Valves: sohc per bank
Max power: 119kW (160bhp) at 6000rpm
Max torque: 213Nm at 4000rpm (coupe)
Fuel system: Bosch L-Jetronic fuel injection
Transmission: Five-speed manual
Suspension (F/R): F: independent, torsion bars R: de Dion, coil springs
Steering: Rack and pinion
Brakes: Disc/disc

Dimensions

Wheelbase: 2400mm
O/all length: 4260mm
Width: 1664mm
Height: 1330mm
Track F/R: 1352mm
Weight: 1210kg

Performance

Top Speed: 212kph (132mph)
0-60mph: 8.8 seconds
Standing ¼: 16.7 seconds
Avg fuel consumption: 10.08l/100km (28mpg)
Production: 22,381*
(* Source: Alfa Romeo Production Cars by Stefano d’Amico)

Words: Allan Walton Photos: Adam Croy

Tim visits Classic Car Rentals in Hokitika to check out two simply stunning classic replicars

Alfa Romeo’s 8C 2900B has the wow factor. See one in the street, anywhere in the world, and you’ll drop your jaw wide open and be unable to communicate anything much more than a few expletives.

So, seeing this long and low silver bullet on New Zealand’s West Coast is more than little unusual. And it’s a race car for goodness sake — why did they need to make a race car so beautiful? Did it need to be this gorgeous to go fast? It was designed to race — and race it did, winning honours at many a Le Mans and Mille Miglia 24-hour race between 1931 and 1934.

The Alfa’s designer, Vittorio Jano, was a famous bloke, and with this one he designed a good one with an engine that would become arguably the 1930s’ best. Initially a 2.3-litre, it was made up from two twin-overhead cam four-cylinder engines, and first saw the race track in the Tipo B ‘P3’ Grand prix racers and the 8C 2300 sports cars. By 1935 it was up to just over 2.9 litres and in its finest hour it could chug out 190kW (255bhp), although for reliability a smaller 164kW (220bhp) version was used.

All this happened under the management of a chap called Enzo Ferrari, who ran Alfa Romeo’s race team until leaving in 1937 to set up his own little company. Alfa then concentrated on setting up Alfa Corse, as its own racing department was called, and in 1938 entered five 8C 2900 Bs in Le Mans — four of them fitted with spider bodies like the one featured here, and the other as a coupe. If you want to see a real one you’ll need to head to the Alfa Romeo Museum, but I rather doubt it’ll let you drive it. This one, however, is very driveable.

Auto Artist

This Alfa — actually called the SL Special — was built by auto artist Sam Lyle, of Gisborne. It doesn’t pretend to be a replica — instead this is a car in the spirit of the original. Many will want to debate the term that should be used to describe such a beast, but I don’t want to enter into that. Let’s just say it honours the original without pretence. Using a sturdy chassis and a seriously boosted Nissan VG20-DET V6 motor putting out some 186kW  (250bhp), it is with great pleasure and an unrestrained smile that I can tell you that the car is huge fun. With non-assisted brakes and steering, and tightly wound suspension, it feels surprisingly vintage until you boot it, and then a sheer excess of power and notable lack of grip from the rear tyres dominate the experience completely and utterly.

It’s sleek, sexy, and wild. It’s also basic and raw, and huge fun. The cockpit’s tight for a tall bloke and the tiny aero screens just about keep the bugs out of your teeth, but not much more. If you’ve any hair left this thing will put some wind in it. The open road speed limit comes up very, very quickly, but you won’t be tempted to exceed it for any long periods of time unless you’ve brought your goggles. It’s noisy, rumbustious, scary even. Altogether wonderful.

Barry Keenan, of Classic Car Rentals, is the Alfa’s keeper and has travelled extensively in the car. Comfortable it is not, and he confirms it’s all the better for it.

Tipping the Trident

For longer trips, you might like to consider this muscular, blood red Maserati 450S recreation; it’s certainly more civilized than the Alfa. In comparison with the silver Alfa, the lunging Maserati is an absolute softy, with power brakes and steering, suspension that soaks up bumps, and a torque-laden V8.

Again this is a recreation, though this time it was hand-built by Barry Keenan. It uses a modern car’s floor-pan with a carefully executed steel frame on top that holds up the hand-built fibreglass body. A sohc 16-valve, 4.5-litre V8 sends plenty of power to a five-speed transaxle creating the exact same layout as the original Maserati. The donor car also provided stunning brakes and a modern collapsible steering column. Guessed what the donor is yet? No it’s not Italian — it’s German.

After using a Porsche 928 as his daily driver for some time, Barry realised that underneath the body of this upper-class high-speed GT, there was an old racing Maserati trying to get out. Now at that point I’d speculate and dream lots of ‘what ifs’ and ‘that would work’ and tell myself to stop being silly. But Barry is an accomplished engineer, and was in a position to do something about it. And the result is amazing.

He hand-built a frame over the complete and unchanged Porsche floor-pan and hand fashioned a buck for a one-off Maserati-style body. It’s actually wider than the original, but that suited Barry — 1950s cars were narrow by modern standards and the extra width gives it the road-holding he wanted. Plus he can use modern tyres without looking all Cobra-like (am I the only person who finds the narrow-hipped early 289 Cobras much nicer than the flared-hipped 427s?).

My first drive of the Maser was toddling around at crawling speed in the Hokitika Santa parade. Ho-ho-ho — yeah! It poodled and doodled and generally refused to overheat or be temperamental, after all there’s still a top-of-the-line Porsche underneath. We waved and smiled and tried to stir the crowds with some V8 roar, whilst all the time wanting to hit the open road. Patience Tim, let’s get some history first.

450S History

Up to 1956 Maserati was doing very nicely in the smaller-engined classes with 1.5 and 3.0-litre engines, but had its heart set on taking on the much more powerful Ferraris, Astons and Jaguars. It needed a bigger motor and a chassis to suit. So its engineers simultaneously worked on both a 3.5-litre six-cylinder and a 4.5-litre V8 and just one new chassis. The new six was tried first in the 1956 Mille Miglia, but straight away proved underpowered and uncompetitive. There’s nothing like a bit of low key testing! The V8 therefore got the nod, and with development the quad cam V8 engine produced 298kW (400bhp), making the 450S the most powerful front-engine sports car around. It wasn’t until the Panoz prototypes in the late ’90s that it was beaten!¨The new 450S made its debut at the 1957 Argentine 1000km event driven by none other than Juan Manuel Fangio and Stirling Moss (talk about name dropping). It literally stormed away from the field until the clutch gave in, leading to transmission failure. However, the complicated engine was reliable, and at Sebring that March, in the hands of Fangio and Jean Behra, a 450S won. Maserati went into the final race of the season in contention for the World Championship, but it was not to be; the Venezuelan Grand Prix was one of the worst weekends in Maserati’s racing history. The day before the race, Maserati’s manager died. On the day Moss’s 450S was destroyed after a collision with an AC Bristol, and the two other Masers took each other out after Bonnier’s car blew up and careered right into Schell’s 450S. The rules for sports car racing changed for the 1958 season and left the 450S obsolete — cut out before it really made its mark. When it finished it won, and bad luck seems to have been its only downfall.

Designed for racing

What I’m most interested in is how the Maser looks! Like the Alfa, these cars were designed for racing and the body merely had to keep it all clean and slippery. Of course, Maserati and Alfa Romeo just didn’t know how to make an ugly car, and this 450S recreation is absolutely stunning.

As I’ve said, it’s not an exact replica — it’s considerably wider for a start, and obviously of totally different construction. What it does do is drive very well in a very modern way. The Maser is beautifully made; the doors open cleanly on big strong hinges, and close with a solid clunk. The seat slides seamlessly back and forth, affording an easy, comfortable driving position. It starts as you’d expect a modern Porsche to, and with less weight it pulls effortlessly like a train. Steering is light but meaty with feel, and the brakes are modern and strong. You can drive it like a modern without worrying too much about road irregularities, and other such things that set the Alfa jumping and changing course. But then that’s part of the fun of the Alfa!

On the road

Barry, the owner of these cars, and the creator of the Maserati, suggested we head off on one of the short routes commonly used by hirers, and this immediately shows the advantage of being in Hokitika; as soon as you leave town the roads are great. I started in the Maser, having already familiarised myself with it on the Santa parade. We headed east out of Hokitika towards a small township called Kaniere, where we veered right across the Kaniere bridge and along towards Woodstock (home of just one famous West Coast Hotel).

This used to be the main road heading South, and offers a great mix of short open stretches on which I could open her up a bit, and easy sweeping corners for fun. The Maser impressed with its integrity, easy driving characteristics, great road-holding, and safe handling. Anyone could drive this and flatter themselves. It’s fast of course, but there’s little drama or noise, more a turbine-like push. At Rimu we stopped at a lookout and swapped cars — I wanted a taste of the more vintage-style Alfa on these roads.

My timing was perfect, with several kilometres of uninhabited road winding around the back of Lake Mahinapua allowing me a taste of simple old-fashioned fun. I loved the Alfa on these roads — the noise and sudden turbo-boosted acceleration were great in squirts between corners as I learned about its road-holding and handling limits. I found that if I allowed her a bit of slack, let the steering move around while the back stepped out and jumped around, then everything went smoothly and easily — but ultimately I still needed to force the issue a few times and just turn her in despite objections. It’s hard work driving the Alfa — but you’re well rewarded for the effort.
We soon linked up with State Highway 6, which took us past both Lake Mahinapua and another famous hotel, The Pu Pub. This was featured in the Mainland cheese advert a few years ago.

Somewhere around here I swapped back into the Maser for a much quieter 10 kilometres of big, wide and long straight roads back into Hokitika. This was a great drive and a blast of fresh air and pure fun. So the next day, thanks to the need to get some photos to show our readers, we did it all again! It wasn’t hard.

Trying to summarise the two cars at the end I could only conclude that the Maserati Barry’s built is a far finer piece of kit. In specification, build quality, and driving sophistication it beats the Alfa hands down, as it should. The Maser is the one I would want to take home. But next time I’m over on the coast it’s the Alfa I’ll take out for a short blast. The noise, the vintage feel, and the completely unexpected and ridiculous turbo boost are just too much fun to ignore. The Maser is a better, quicker car, but my smile lasted longer in the Alfa.

You can rent either of these cars through the Hokitika Information Centre that Barry and his wife run, Barry rents them for half or one-hour rentals. In the past he has rented them for longer periods, but the quick squirt seems to suit people best. He has also had lots of other cars in the fleet, but is now sticking to these weird and lovely special creations, and he has some very cool ideas for future additions.

Words: Tim Monck-Mason Photos: Sean Craig

This substantial, 320-page book tells you everything you need to know about the elegant Montreal, named after the World’s Fair venue at which it was first shown. Total production was under 4000 in the mid ’70s. Featuring a race-derived quad-cam V8 engine of 2.6 litres, the Montreal was clothed in an elegant body and was intended as a GT, rather than a competition car — though some were and are raced. The green Hehir car in New Zealand gets quite a lengthy mention. For anyone with an interest in buying a Montreal, and particularly for owners, this would be an indispensable book to have. As well as following the development of the car and its limited production run, there are sections on colour schemes, 26 pages on specialist tools, tuning, upgrades and potential weak areas, club activities, models, books and advertising — and what is in effect a workshop manual covering mechanical, electrical and bodywork maintenance. It’s a well-illustrated and nicely produced book, though it is pretty expensive. I hope there are sufficient fans of the car to reward Veloce’s decision to publish.

Alfa Romeo Montreal: The Essential Companion by Bruce Taylor
Review book supplied by the publisher
Review by Mark Holman

Alfa Romeo’s 159 is more than just another sports sedan. Like the 156 that rescued the brand from obscurity, it’s a revolution

The 159’s predecessor proved a giant leap in quality and reliability for a brand still dogged by the old ‘it’s an Alfa, it’ll break down’ mantra. Now the 159 goes further with a car firmly aiming the crosshairs at BMW’s 3 Series.

Over-ambitious? Maybe, but after a strop between Sydney and the vineyards of the Hunter Valley, I can confirm it’s not as ambitious as you might think.

The 159 is an all-new car based on an all-new platform, and originally developed with Saab before the Swedes decided it was too expensive. Also underpinning the upcoming Brera, 159 Sportwagon and Spider, it supports a substantially larger car that’s powered by four engines in our market — two petrols and two diesels.

Only two of those units were available at launch. The bulk of my drive was at the wheel of the 2.2-litre JTS, an engine new to Alfa and, at 136kW and 230Nm, one that offers more oomph than ever before. In this car, it was mated to a six-speed manual transmission (the Selespeed arrives in 2007).

The manual’s a sweet operator well matched to a smooth engine that is quiet when it needs to be, yet offers a keen aural note when you’re pressing on.The 1.9-litre diesel that also powers the 147JTD turbo will also be available. It uses multi-jet common rail injection and variable geometry turbocharging combining a 9.3-second 0-100 time with 5.9l/100km thirst in a six-speed manual (the auto’s available next year).

For our return trip to Sydney, we tried the 2.4JTD, a five-cylinder unit also with a common rail and turbo set-up and billed as the most powerful diesel-Alfa ever. The 400Nm of torque’s on tap at 2000rpm, but 90 per cent of it’s available anywhere from 1750 to 3500rpm — just as the 147kW arrives, at 4000rpm. Again, all this mumbo is beautifully matched to the six-speed manual (expect the auto next year).

Most of my drive was on the motorway, where the car proved eager to accelerate at almost any speed and in most gears — though sixth is cruise mode. It’s quiet, too, with an attractively deep, throaty note audible when revs rise. Otherwise you barely notice it’s a diesel, the typical lumpy idle unobtrusive even when standing still.

The 3.2-litre V6? GM’s world engine, and yes, an Australian Holden factory is one manufacturer of the unit Alfa hopes will replace its superlative predecessor. When it arrives in July, the all-new engine will offer more power than even the GTA, with 191kW at 6200rpm and 322Nm at 4500rpm for a seven-second, 0-100 sprint courtesy all-wheel-drive.

Certainly, my brief drive indicated body control is spot-on, the car proving neutral, the slight bias to understeer easily corrected. Steering is accurate and feedback is almost too good. Indeed, first impressions are only of a tad too much talking through the wheel and perhaps an over-firm ride, not unexpected from a sporting sedan.

I found the compromise acceptable, especially given the quiet ride. And I loved the looks; the Italdesign skin is sexy and the interior’s driver-focussed layout is handsome and well thought-out, though the metal expanse of the fascia in our test example was rather OTT.

Base cars get leather, cruise control, dual zone air, seven airbags (including a driver knee bag), a 10-CD stacker, a rear park sensor, ABS with EBA and EBD, VDC traction control, plus MSR and ASR, a full-sized alloy spare.

Alfa plans to sell shed-loads of 159s and hopes to sell 500 next year. Three hundred of those cars will be 159s, 150 of them the 2.2 diesel.

Over ambitious? I think not.

Specs

Engines: 2.2-litre four-cylinder, 16-valve petrol; 3.2-litre, 60-degree, 24-valve, V6, Q4 petrol; 1.9-litre, five-cylinder, 20-valve turbo-diesel; or 2.4-litre, four-cylinder, 16-valve turbo-diesel

Powers:2.2/3.2/1.9/2.4: 136kW at 6500rpm/191 at 6200/110 at 4000/147 at 4000; 0-100kph (2.2/3.2/1.9/2.4, claimed): 8.8/7.0/9.4/8.4 sec

Transmissions: Six-speed manual drives front wheels (2.2, 1.9, 2.4); six-speed manual drives all four wheels (3.2 V6); six-speed auto drives front wheels (2.2), six-speed Selespeed drives front wheels (1.9, 2.4)

Lengths/widths/heights/WBs: 660/1828/1422/2700mm

Track fr/rr: 1578/1555mm

Kerb weights: 2.2/3.2/1.9/2.4: 1490/1680/1535/1630kg

Prices: 2.2/3.2/1.9/2.4 manuals: $56,990/ $79,990/ $59,990/ $63,990

Penn completes an exercise in learning how little he really knows about real car painting with modern techniques

After the final gloss painting of our Alfa Romeo Spider’s engine bay, tub and boot, the car was to be masked up again, revealing the colour coded primer areas ready for the final colour coat and two coats of clear. This is the time when the final checking has to be meticulous — now or never! Dale at Evans European checks the car carefully, looking for anything at all that will mar the final finish.

He’ll also be taking off any dust or lint — or anything at all that has managed to stick itself to the primer. Then Prepsil is wiped on and left wet to evaporate. The car has been sitting in the shop waiting its turn, and even in the cleanest of shops there must always be things in the atmosphere, not to mention the touches from hands and fingers. Incidentally, the wet Prepsil gives you a taste of what the finish could look like. Garth made the comment that that’s one of the ways you can check the finish out — running your eye along the ‘wet’ finish.

The Spider received three coats of spritz first of all until Dale’s satisfied the finish is ‘straight’ — he rubbed through them with a long board, taking off the highs and levelling the lows — then a second spritzing and the process repeated. Believe me, this will be one straight car when it arrives for the finale.

Fine details

With the colour coded primer a bit of spot priming went on here and there — in a couple of awkward spots, such as around the headlights, Dale used some two-pot putty then blocked it and it came up very nicely. A final two-three coats of primer — reduced slightly because they don’t need any ‘fill’ coats by now — and stepping up the thinner a little will ensure a self levelling finish. Interestingly, Garth made the point that you have to isolate the spritz coats from the final colour coat, because they don’t like each other! Never put it over polyester, always separate them.

There’s a hell of a lot of science in all this, Garth told me that because the hard yards had been carried out with the spritzing and blocking it didn’t need a primer/filler, hence the thinning — and if he’d got it wrong and there was a reaction he could be back at square one! Don’t try this at home.

Incidentally, this car was masked up four times, every step in the process got fresh clean masking. In this process Dale wears gloves, because it is of paramount importance that the surface is totally contaminant-free to ensure the keying of the final coat of paint.

Turning on the heat

The car was sitting in the heated booth for some time at 25 degrees, so the whole car — all of the substrate, the steel and primers etc — was raised to the same temperature. This also applied to the doors, boot lid and bonnet, which have all been treated exactly the same but separately — and don’t forget that everything has been trial fitted a couple of times during this operation to make certain that when the final painting has taken place there are no unpleasant surprises.

At this point the paper trail shows that, to date, 194 hours have been put into the Spider’s painting. Everybody who has worked on it has been bar-coded through the work sheets following the job. This is about accurate recording on every step that is taken. At the end of every job it is then simple to check the hours against the costs — allowing Evans European to ensure efficiency has not been slipping, that it is quoting accurately and, if need be, to give staff more training. This is a very hi-tech shop to say the least.

Final preparation

In the final preparation before the colour coat, there is also a final check concerning sealing in such areas as behind the rear bumpers where the sealant is run along any concealed seams, or anywhere that might let water in, or even just retain water. Onto the sealant will go the final coat, of course. So, by this stage the car was once more masked up, final checking has been done — including any puttying or any place where the primer has gone through to bare metal, final cleaning and final sealing and the car brought up to temperature.

Now Dale mixes his paints and dons protective clothing. In the booth treated air only is allowed in, and Dale’s mask is connected to pure air. But that pure air has been treated in several ways before it gets into the booth and into Dale’s face mask — via a separate personal filter. These are very dangerous chemicals, and it was noteworthy that everybody working at Evans European had face masks of one kind or another permanently around their necks when they weren’t obscuring their mouths and noses.

Applying the paint

Now it was up the professional and his gun and his skills. Final exterior colour coating is pure professionalism, it’s not a skill you can have a couple of trial runs at then paint your own car in the garage. Bear in mind also that, as these articles have tried to convey, the real cost is in all the lead up in preparing the car for this final step. For every hour spent on the gun at the end a huge number of hours has been spent getting to that point. It’s gone over twice of course, because the colour coat is topped off with a clear coat that gives that permanently ‘wet’ look.

Not long before Christmas, I went back in to the workshop for the polishing. The Spider had sat around for a while with the paint maturing, and had gathered the usual residue of dust, all of which was blown and tack-clothed off. After that, Dale could finish off with a polishing that would bring up the paint’s lustre, as well as polishing out any marks that may have got in there.

A buff with clear cutting compound (liquid) was used and, as you can imagine, this is not designed to be a severe process. Dale surprised me by commenting that it could take as long as five hours for the whole car; bear in mind that an Alfa Spider is a small, roof-less sports car.

I’m very conscious that my account of the process has not been a treatise on modern automobile re-finishing, it’s been a real learning process for me too. I do want to express my thanks to Garth and Owen of Evans European and Onehunga Painters, and Craig Marshall of DuPont. Not just for painting this car, but for being a trio of highly articulate and competent professionals so thoroughly in touch with their business that my job became a very demanding exercise in getting up to speed, in order to do justice to the miracle of restoration that I saw take place.

What’s more, it was all done within the company’s normal workflow. Good lads, the three of them.

Restoration Sponsors

¢    Main sponsor, BMW NZ Ltd. Supplier of a new long motor, various replacement panels and sundry mechanical items, ph 09 573 6944
¢    BE Carparts (Formerly Brit Euro), supplier of after market panels for classic and modern cars. Ph 09 276 7841/ 0800 655 505
¢    Mosen Euro-Parts — BMW specialist — Hamilton, ph 07 846 6671
¢    Euro-Italian Car Parts Ltd. 6 Colway Place, Glenfield, Nth Shore, ph 09 444 9817
¢    Auto Radiators (Martin Ross) 12 Nixon St, Grey Lynn, Auckland, ph 09 376 6212/4.
¢    Principal parts supplier — BMW NZ, ph 09 573 6944
¢    Suspension parts — George Stock Ltd, ph 09 270 7200
¢    Euro-Italian Car Parts Ltd, Unit C, Saturn Place, Upper Harbour, ph 09 444 9817
¢    Wheels — Arrow Wheels, ph 09 827 8686
¢    Radiators — Auto-Radiators, ph 09 376 6212
¢    Stripping — Power Strip, ph 09 573 0146
¢    Mechanicals — Bavarian Motors, ph 09 444 5312
¢    Upholstery and trim — Vintrim, ph 09 444 0435
¢    Dry stripping — Daniel Lucas, Heritage Dry Strippers ph 09 826 1686
¢    Dashboard — Dashboard Restorations, ph 09 444 4211
¢    Club — 2002 Register, ph 021 679 020
¢    Steering and suspension — Centreline Suspension, ph 09 376 8082
¢    Transportation — Airdrie Transport Ltd, ph 09 832 5430
¢    Bodywork — Classicar Restorations, ph 09 525 1300
¢    Rust prevention — Permanent Painted Coatings, ph 0800 42 82 982
¢    Rust Prevention — EAL Lanoline supplier,ph 09 627 1153 (24 hrs)
¢    Electrical — North Harbour Auto & Marine Electrical Ltd, ph 09 489 9226
¢    Carburettor — Weber Specialties, ph 09 443 5638
¢    Restoration supplies — Würth NZ Ltd, ph 09 262 3040
¢    Dryfit batteries — Peacock Technologies, ph 06 354 1025
¢    Brakes — Just Brakes, Ph 09 579 4666
¢    Quality Rebuilds — distributors and mechanical fuel pumps, ph 03 342 5677
¢    Al’s Mufflers Target Rd. Glenfield, ph 09 444 5314.
¢    Chrome Plating – Bob Pearson, Otahuhu Chromeplaters, ph 09 276 9689
¢    Repair certification — Lee Burridge, ph 09 525 0125
¢    Low Volume Vehicle certifier -—Neil Fraser, CERTZ, ph 09 482 0071
¢    Paint and materials:
BMW 2002 — Glasurit. Applied by Benge Car Painter ph 09 579 4424.
Alfa Romeo Spider — Dupont Paints applied by Garth Chitty, Evans European
¢    Compliancing — Neil Fraser, Fraser Cars 09 482 0071, and Lee Burridge, CarPro 09 525 1025

Penn’s Alfa Romeo 1900

When I was heavily into Sunbeams, Kevin was an engine reconditioner by trade and a very good friend, who did my motors as ‘homers’ — not that Rootes motors were ever much of a challenge, just long-lived, reliable and moderately tweakable. Kevin was, and is still, an Alfa man and spent time convincing me of their virtues, so when I got my first Alfa I soon had him around helping me play with my new toy — a 1978 Alfetta GTV two-litre.

It’s very important to keep the drive shafts balanced and, if removed, replaced in exactly the same bolt positions, otherwise you could end up with vibration

It was always my favourite driving car, with the exception of my current Alfa 164QV — and of course, the Alfetta GTV6 I had for a while. Even the Cave Weta liked driving it and that explains partly why I’ve got a couple of them at the moment. This first Alfetta needed a new clutch and I managed to golden tongue Kevin into ‘giving me a hand’ — I passed him the tools while he did the job. We’ve kept contact over the years, even though Kevin now lives way up north in Dargaville where he works as a mechanic. He’s still into Alfas and currently has a couple of Alfettas.

My first Alfetta of the current pair came on the back of a Haulaway from Wellington and lasted about 10 minutes before the clutch gave way. Auto-Clutch (I’d not consider anybody else for clutches) reconditioned it before the winter settled in and this pennsioner retired to the fireplace with a series of large whiskeys.
Eventually, I persuaded Kevin to come and repeat his clutch changing trick to prove he could still do it. It’s a little different with these Alfettas, because the clutch is in the rear along with the transaxle.

In Kevin’s words

“In good old Alfa tradition, we braved the cold of the garage floor for a weekend with the rear wheels off and the rear of the car as high up on the stands as we could get it. “I hacksawed the exhaust pipe behind the rear muffler and removed that section where it joins just before the bend over the half shafts. This saves heaps of time, as we’ll re-weld it after the job is finished. The option is undoing the exhaust manifold nuts and dropping it — too much complication! [Also a further opportunity for problems if you break the manifold seals. Penn]

“Next I undid the three bolts going through the rear doughnut [Alfas commonly use rubber doughnuts at the ends of the drive shafts. It’s important to mark them so they go back relatively the same. Penn], while Penn busied himself hovering. “Then with a trolley jack under the transaxle beam, I took out the three bolts holding the left and right side mounts while another trolley jack supported the gearbox assembly.

“Once the bolts are out, the beam jack is raised so that the whole assembly now tilts down and we can get to the clutch slave cylinder to remove it after the hydraulic line has been clamped. By raising it still higher, with the jack supporting the gearbox, I’m then able to remove the four bell housing bolts. It takes a bit of juggling getting the angles and the gap right to remove the clutch pressure plate housing from the end of the gearbox. This is Alfa design at it’s best and I just love this set-up.” [I admit I like it too, even though I had to get onto my hands and knees to see it after Kevin rolled to one side so I could actually look. Penn]

“I now take the clutch assembly to the bench for disassembly and cleaning. Penn had another clutch flywheel already machined up by Auto-Clutch, so I unbolted the drive yoke nut, thus removing the ghost clutch shaft from the housing, so as to change the clutch flywheel ready for reassembly. “It’s important to remember that in a clutch replacement, it’s excellent practice to machine the flywheel face and generally bring it within the required specs, wear can give further troubles with a new plate.”

[Kevin’s reference to the clutch flywheel draws attention to the fact that these Alfa transaxles appear to have two flywheels, one at each end of the drive shaft. The motor end is simply to hold the ring gear really and isn’t any sort of real flywheel, while the one at the gearbox end is for the clutch. As Kevin points out, this means there are two rotating at engine revs. The use of rubber doughnuts as universals at each end of the drive shaft, plus a central hanger bearing means that little inequalities can be absorbed, however, it’s very important to keep the drive shafts balanced and, if removed, replaced in exactly the same bolt positions, otherwise you could end up with vibrations. Penn]

“On closer inspection I noticed that the support fingers for the clutch lever were damaged, so I fabricated another one and riveted it into position. I simply looked for a piece of heavy gauge panel steel and displaying famed Kiwi technology hacked out a new template. Assembly was simply a reverse process, finishing up with a checking and bleeding of the hydraulics.”

I’m very grateful to Kevin

It’s good to have friends like Kevin. The whole job was facilitated by borrowing the various worn clutch kit bits from my own spares stock, Kevin’s old clutch kit and Dennis Marwood — another Alfa man with good taste — also lent me a flywheel. Out of all these bits, I had sufficient for Auto-Clutch to rebuild the complete kit with a skimmed flywheel face. What we — sorry, what Kevin took out, was then used to replace the borrowed items. I’m a firm believer in swapping units in the one job.

This car sat for the rest of what seemed like endless months of winter; nothing happening to it because us pennsioners prefer to sit crouched over the fire waiting for the little wifey to come home and feed us. None of this working in cold garages.

Finally, it was deemed almost Spring, so I went up to the Wendy House to give the car a start up and a test run. New problem! Wouldn’t go into gear while running and when started in gear leapt forward. I suspected a frozen clutch plate or hydraulic problems, so got my friendly towie (Brendon Price, a former school pupil of mine, who benefited from my dexterous use of the strap as a tuning tool, and now — even though he’s as big as a house — not one to bear grudges) to trundle it around to Bavarian Motors. Ernst welded up the exhaust pipe as referred to above and diagnosed a frozen clutch as I’d thought and soon had that freed. You can do this by starting in gear with enough room to drive — something I couldn’t do.

But more interesting was driving it around the corner to Millhouse Motors my favourite WOF station, where I managed to golden-tongue Daryl into putting this car through a test, knowing that without headlights it would fail, but wanting to see what else I had to do. To our mutual surprise it flew through in every area except the headlights (argument for daylight warrant?). Naturally, I drove it home and found it to be a beautiful driver. All I have to do now, is set up the headlights, which is a funny trip with these cars, due to the shortage of units. Hopefully, I’ve overcome this by importing a special set of cradles from the US that take all sealed beam units. These cradles mount in the front grills where the original lights go and were specially made for the Alfettas — and Suds I believe — so they could obey the requirements of the US market.
Incidentally, I have the other Alfetta for sale to a good home — 09 444 0424.

Alfa Romeo 1900

I have the Roycroft 1951 1900 that Ron drove for 17 years. It’s a rolling body and now nearly ready for painting. Everything is there, but stripped out, except for the front and rear wheels. There is also a complete spare 1951 car in good restorable order with a 1956 two-litre twin cam motor (we’ve had it running recently) and a five-speed ’box. Interesting projects, using Lucas electrics and mechanical items from stock British vehicles (Commer truck bearings for instance), but I’m running out of time and room and have too many other jobs to do. You can buy the lot for $3000, but I’d look at all sorts of deals where no money changed hands — very partial to busty blondes. Penn McKay 09 444 0424

Penn’s Favourite Helpers

Bavarian Motors 09 444 5312
Barry and Glen, Italian Auto Centre 09 276 7245
Brad and Craig, Auto Radiators 09 376 6212
Dave Willis, Auto-Clutch 09 849 3737
Chris, Centreline Suspension 09 376 8082
Dave Wilce, Continental Parts, Wellington, dave@contcars.co.nz
Daniel Lucas, Heritage Dry Strippers 09 826 1686
Mark Mercer, Supertrim 09 443 7400
Murray Johnson, Weber Specialties 09 443 5638
Murray Whitehead, POR15 0800 42 8282
Taylor Automotive 09 377 8404
Wayne Wassal, Enterprise Car Painters 09 443 7901
Roger and Dion, Component Powder Coating, 09 818 6883
Perry Brewer, Power Strip Industries 09 5730146
Rust prevention, Lanoline — Engineering Adhesives & Lubricants (NZ) Ltd. ph 09 627 1153 (24hrs)
Lanolin-based lubricants and rust proofers from Engineering Adhesives & Lubricants, Mike Fish 09 627 1153
Al’s Mufflers, Target Rd, Glenfield 09 444 5314
Pete, Just Brakes 09 579 4666
Spies Hecker paints, L J Smits Group 09 274 6871
Tindell’s Vehicle Recovery, Geoff 09 416 1971

1958 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Spider, 1958 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint, 1962 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint Speciale. It’s an age-old story. Man sees car, man falls in love with car. I’m sure if Shakespeare had been around in the motoring age it would have been the subject of at least one play — perhaps Alfa Romeo and GiuliettaYou don’t get to be a highly sought-after, award-winning architect if you don’t have an eye for form — and clearly Queenstown resident Michael Wyatt has it. What he also has is a fabulous trio of Alfa Romeo Giuliettas, all of them beautiful to behold and excellent examples of automotive form.

There’s a fabulous little Giulietta Spider — the main subject of the photo shoot on these pages — a superb Giulietta Sprint coupe from the same year, and an eye-catching 1962 Giulietta Sprint Speciale currently undergoing restoration.

Michael has owned the Spider for nearly 14 years now, and it certainly hasn’t always been in the pristine condition it is today.

All the body restoration work on the Spider was carried out by Queenstown craftsman Barney Tansley, whose handiwork has featured a number of times in the pages of NZ Classic Car.

The Spider came from the San Diego area in the early ’90s and, according to Barney, “¦it’d had more hits than Elvis Presley.”

Detective work

Tin worm had taken hold in the lower reaches, requiring new inner and outer sills, while the boot also needed to be re-skinned. Other items, such as the doors, weren’t too bad and didn’t need to be replaced. “The body is made up of a whole lot of machine-pressed panels that are then butt-welded together,” Barney explains. “They used a mixture of larger scale manufacturing and hand building.”

There was the usual detective work required to find some of the body trim, including the chromed bronze trims below the doors which were eventually tracked down in the States.Once Barney had prepped the body it was sent off to Queenstown Collision Centre, which applied the brilliant Dodge Viper red, giving real presence to what is a small car.

The mechanical work was put in the hands of Queenstown engine guru Eric Swinbourne — a man who knows Alfas inside out, quite literally, having owned a good number of them himself.

Veloce

At some stage someone has fitted a 1600cc engine in this particular Spider and, while that remains, everything else has been kept as it should be for the car’s original 1300cc specification. Lift the bonnet and the 1600cc twin-cam engine looks right at home — only a real Alfa enthusiast would be able to spot the difference.

“It has been set up to Veloce specifications with twin side-draft Webers,” Eric Swinbourne says. “It produces about 115bhp [86kW].”

Although a little taller, the 1600cc engine only needed to be lowered about 12mm to fit under the bonnet, and it’s canted slightly to allow the twin carbs to clear the chassis rails. The sump is cast to compensate for this, so the bottom sits flat in relation to the rest of the car.

He is also keen to point out all the other nice Alfa mechanical touches, such as the widespread use of alloy suspension parts to keep the weight down and a finned aluminium sump for the diff. Finned brake drums provide more than adequate stopping power. Inside, everything looks as it should, with that usual Italian flair for making something simple look good.

The seats are finished in a thick, stiff black vinyl that was the style of the day, all set off by contrasting red beading. This theme is continued on the floor with red carpet and black rubber mats, which are still available. There’s a simple cluster of three dials with the tachometer top centre; where it should be. The symmetry is maintained by a dial divided into three vectors carrying the oil temperature, water temperature and fuel gauges.

Sure footed

You don’t have to go far to realise just what a lively combination Alfa’s gorgeous little twin-cam engine and a 840kg sports car body make. There is plenty of urge off the line, the engine revs freely, and once you are quickly up to the speed limit the car cruises easily at a little over 3000rpm.

Handling is nimble and sure-footed, and you can imagine whipping along the winding coastal roads of Italy or the French Riviera and tearing over the mountain roads of Sardinia, easily leaving lesser mortals in your wake.

1958 Giulietta Sprint & 1962 Giulietta Sprint Speciale (SS)

You don’t have to dig very far into the history of Michael’s red 1958 Giulietta Sprint to find a well-known name amongst the previous owners — none other than AJ Roycroft, father of motor sport, great and died-in-the-wool Alfa man, Ron Roycroft.

The car was bought new in Naples in 1958 before being imported to New Zealand in 1963.

Eric Swinbourne’s father bought the car from Roycroft Snr in 1967 before it went through a number of owners, and ended up in a very sad state of repair. Fortunately, Eric tracked it down and began the task of rounding up all the parts required for restoration before selling it. The car passed through a number of hands before the restoration work was eventually completed about five years ago by Stephen Grellet, who then sold it to Michael.

At some stage in its life it’d had a 2.0-litre motor wedged into it, but it is now back to its original 1300cc engine. While the family resemblance is unmistakable, with the distinctive, upright Alfa Romeo grille and its little moustache-like vents to each side, when you put them together the differences become much more obvious.

The Spider is not just a roofless Sprint. Bertone designed the coupe, which was released in 1954, while Pininfarina penned the Spider, which was released four years later.

Probably the key difference is the much higher waist-line of the Sprint, done no doubt to provide room, but also to keep a nice sleek, low roofline in a car that is a mere 3980mm long.

Sprint Speciale

Michael’s 1962 Sprint Speciale also shares the mechanical heritage and suspension of its two older siblings.

Michael has owned the car since 1994 and has given it plenty of use over the years, but decided it was time to put it in Barney Tansley’s careful hands.

“I really enjoy driving it — it’s a lot faster than the standard Sprint,” Michael explains. “It produces 100bhp [74.5kW], is fitted with a five-speed ’box and has a more aerodynamic body.”

By way of comparison the standard Sprint has only 60kW (80bhp) and a four-speed ’box.

Michael says the handling is similar in all three of his Giuliettas, although he feels most confident in the SS.

“I always feel I can push it harder. You feel quite confident in it at quite high speed.”

One of the keys to that confidence is the powerful front brakes. Although they are drums they use a three leading shoe arrangement, with wider drums and shoes than either the Sprint or the Spider.

From the outside all three cars do appear roll a bit under hard cornering, but Michael says it doesn’t feel that way on the inside.

“I think they opted to keep the ride supple and comfortable. They are a very civilised car to travel in, and I find I can travel to Christchurch just as quickly and easily as I can in my Alfa 164 or 156.”

A car for the times?

If Italy needed a car to give its post-war psyche a bit of a gee-up, then the Alfa Romeo Giulietta was just the car to do it.

Although it was only a small car by most standards, the unveiling of the Giulietta Sprint at the 1954 Turin Motor Show made a substantial impact. Alfa’s 1900 had already created the expectation of performance and handling, but the Giulietta delivered those qualities in a smaller, more affordable package.

Its sleek styling by Carozzeria Bertone was a modern expression of the automotive form, rather than the simple facelift of a pre-war model. This was no skin-deep makeover either. There was the brand-new 1290cc 48kW (65bhp) twin-cam engine designed by Giuseppe Busso, who had trained as an aviation engine designer. Busso made good use of his training to keep the weight down, with extensive use of aluminium to provide excellent power-to-weight characteristics for the time. Even the gearbox and differential casings were made from aluminium to keep weight down.

Wishbone independent front suspension and coils in the rear endowed the little car with excellent handling to make the best of the brilliant engine and beautiful body — a package capable of 160kph. More than 700 orders were taken during the Turin Motor Show alone — it seemed Alfa had found the right car to capture the imagination of a country about to go fast forward into its first modern economic boom.

Upping the ante

In 1956 Alfa introduced a Veloce model which produced 60kW (80bhp) and a top speed of 170kph — thanks partly to changes to the compression and valve gear with the addition of two Weber carbs.

Use of aluminium body parts and perspex windows contributed to a weight reduction exercise that saw 72kg trimmed from its already diminutive frame, and its kerb weight lowered to just 780kg — a weight saving of about 8.5 per cent. It was built for performance and perform it did, with buyers readily racing the little coupes in events such as the Mille Miglia, Targa Florio and Sestriere Rally. Further power upgrades followed —with 72kW (96bhp) in the 1959 Series II — and in its last form the Sprint Veloce was producing 74.5kW (100bhp), and featured the added benefit of a five-speed ’box.

From two-door to four

Alfa’s four-door version of the Giulietta didn’t break cover until well after the launch of the Sprint. Apparently the main reason for this was that Nuccio Bertone was able to get his workshop’s hand-built coupe bodies into production faster than the Alfa factory could get all the presses and dyes it needed to start producing the four-door.

It’s also worth noting that the unexpected level of demand for the Sprint was the making of Bertone. Having initially built a dozen or so of the two-doors it became clear the company would never meet demand, forcing it to gear-up production, and go from being a moderate-sized company to a world-renowned designer and coachbuilder.

Whatever the reason for the timing of the saloon’s 1955 release, it meant families could have a small, practical car but with that famous Alfa verve. It probably worked out well for Alfa in the publicity stakes, anyway, with the Sprint making much more of a splash than a four-door saloon was likely to make, preparing a now expectant public for the models to come.

Enter the Spider

October 1955, and it was time for the sensuous shape of the Spider to break cover. Affectionately termed ‘the signorina’ by Gian Battista Farina, it used the same floorpan, suspension, engine and transmission as the Sprint, but with a slightly shorter wheelbase.

The little sports car quickly became a star both with the Italian public and car aficionados the world over.

In a new age of Italian glamour, fashion and film making, the Giulietta Spider had a face that fitted perfectly, appearing on the silver screen and as a prop in many television and glossy magazine adverts. It was another huge success for Alfa, with an unexpected level of demand. The Spider did for Pininfarina what the Sprint had done for Bertone, lifting the company into a whole new sphere, and setting it firmly on the path to becoming one of the world’s great styling houses.

The Giulietta Sprint Speciale (SS) and other models

Wind tunnels weren’t in the Alfa Romeo vocabulary at the time Bertone penned the head-turning shape of the Giulietta Sprint Speciale — but it’s hard to see how one could have improved on what was unveiled in 1957. Besides, who needs a wind tunnel when you’ve got the Milan-Turin motorway? Alfa’s solution was to stick dozens of woollen strands all over the car, then photograph and film it as it is driven at speed.

By watching the movement of the tufts in the wind the stylists were able to achieve the car’s wind cheating shape which, coupled with a 74.5kW engine and five-speed ’box, gave the shapely little coupe a 189kph top speed. There was also some re-styling on the way in 1958 for the Giulietta Sprint at the pen of the then Bertone-based Giorgetto Giugiaro that gave the car a timely freshen up.

By this stage most of the famous Italian designers had had their turn with the Giulietta, so it’s not surprising that Elio Zagato got in on the act — initially re-bodying a race-wrecked Sprint Veloce. Alfa Romeo liked what it saw, and 217 Giulietta SZ models and variations were produced.

Even Ferrari body worker Sergio Scaglietti and the Michelotti body shop made one-off racing versions of the Giulietta.

Giulietta grows into Giulia

When Alfa Romeo chose the Monza race track to launch the Giulia Sprint in June 1962, it effectively ended the Giulietta’s eight year run. There was a new 1570cc version of the proven twin cam engine developing 69kW (92bhp), able to push the Sprint to 172kph, as well a range of interior and exterior changes to complete the picture.

It was something of a natural progression in an Italy that was now finding its feet as a modern industrialised nation, and in a world where post-war austerity had been replaced by prosperity, people wanted more. It was time for Giulietta to grow up.