The Alfa arrives somewhat unexpectedly. Suddenly, one Wednesday morning, there it is. It's not due for another two weeks, but this turns out rather well, as it's another bank holiday weekend and I have places to go. My first drive in it is late one night. Having driven the
2.0-litre TS version of the 147, I have a good idea what to expect as far as the car is concerned, but when it comes to the engine I'm somewhat fearful having recently driven the agricultural
Shogun four-cylinder diesel.
There's just something about me and Italian cars - and the Alfa is of course no exception. Climbing in for the first time is like putting on a perfectly tailored glove. I turn the key, and a large heating coil symbol displays momentarily on the info screen before going out. I brace myself and fire up the engine... and I'm pleasantly surprised. Although it's certainly not cultured, it's very acceptable for a four-cylinder diesel. Actually it sounds very much like the VW Golf. But the Golf is a rubber washing-up glove while this is a fine little fur-lined number. I set off into the darkness, target London. We have about 80 miles to go, and I've brought my learn-Italian CD. Soon I'm on the A1, and everything is just right. Italian conversation, Italian surroundings and even that new Italian car smell. I begin to imagine I'm on an autostrada, but soon come to my senses and attend to the speed limit in hand.
Acceleration is excellent for a diesel, but I do find myself paying a little too much attention to the economy reading on the trip computer to see just what sort of figures I can manage. After all, that's rather what this is all about. If the computer is reading anything near what the car's actually delivering, I find the figures astonishing (a later check reveals that they could well be true). Cruising on A roads and motorways, the figures can easily be kept permanently in the 40s and when pushing the car hard, they drop only as far as those you'd expect from a respectable petrol engine.
The next morning I emerge drowsily from my flat to be greeted by a vision in red sitting outside the front door. The car is gorgeous, no two ways about it. With a face reminiscent of the 1949 2500 Villa d'Este, its voluptous curves ripple with just a hint of muscle, but rather than the female shot-putter looks of its German rival, this has the doleful camera-gaze of Monica Bellucci with its low cut radiator grille and doey-eyed headlights. The door handle styling is borrowed from the 156 - almost invisible rear handles and dramatically overstated front handles just to make the point it's
almost a three-door coupe. Only the wheels let it down a little, but these can be replaced as a cost option.
The interior, while nothing particularly special, is exceedingly comfortable and ergonomic - my only minor gripe about the layout is the reflections one tends to get across the instruments from the silver edge of the enclosing panel. The seats are upholstered in good quality cloth, and everything is to hand. Actually driving the car, the gearchange lacks feeling, and is just too flimsy, and the steering is very light, but one gets used to these eventually.
The engine utilises the so-called 'Unijet' system, which uses common-rail electronic injection - the latest generation. This improves consumption as well as making for quieter running and increased power, and gives characteristics more like a petrol engine. I find the red line at 4500 rpm distinctly perturbing, as that is usually just when things are beginning to get interesting. This is more than compensated for by the immense low-down welly of torque thanks to that variable geometry turbo.
The handling of the car is well beyond my expectations - for an everyday runabout car, and especially a diesel, it's remarkably chuckable, and handles with great confidence. The suspension is supple and communicative, and surprisingly it is difficult to induce understeer.
Filling up is a particularly nasty process, but then it usually is with a diesel. The fuel cap dangles off on a silly little thread (un filo) of plastic, with the key still in it and invariably gets splashed with foul smelling diesel. Which then gets on to the key, resulting in a fearful mess. But then I suppose the Italians believe that everyone should suffer a little for buying a diesel car.
During the time I had the 147, several admirers mistook it for something German - which I took as a compliment. Particularly noticeable about the 147 is that it possesses a 'German' solidity. In my opinion the Germans have been sitting on their laurels, selling cars on their reputation, which can only last so long. The quality of new Mercedes for example is pitiful compared to cars of 10 or 20 years ago as Mercedes strive to find that optimal point between acceptable quality and increased financial return. Italian cars are coming from the other direction. Having been renowned since the 1970s as unreliable rust buckets with character, the last ten years have seen the Fiat group striving to equal German quality while maintaining that
spirito Italiano. And this car is proof that it is being achieved. If the dealers buck their ideas up, and buyers see beyond perception, they'll realise that Italian cars are today very realistic competitors to the Germans.
Footnote...
Since we drove the 147 JTD, Alfa have launched a new version with the world's first 16v Multijet engine. This is derived from the 8v engine we tested, and is linked to a six-speed gearbox. We look forward to reviewing this in the near future.
