You Really Should Get an Alfa

I have had my Alfa Romeo Spider for about 5 or 6 months now. It was an impulse buy. I had only seen the car for about 30 minutes before I slapped down the cash. It literally only took that long, and one short test drive, to fall in love with this quirky little Italian. It is a perfect car. The all aluminum engine is so elegant and smooth that you would think it was running on melted velvet rather than gasoline and it has a million miles of headroom. There is an exhaust leak somewhere that makes it pop and burble on the over-run (which I love) and the wooden steering wheel is so delicate, perfectly proportioned, and deeply dished that I’m positive that if you boiled it down and drank it you would turn into a beautiful dark haired woman on a Vespa. Not to mention it is the last car that Battista "Pinin" Farina designed, so of course it is gorgeous, if not a little oddly shaped. My car is not, by any means, a show car. It has tears in the seats and the paint has seen better days, but who cares right? It is such a joy to drive. I don’t think it should even be called it a “car”; it should be called a “Converts gasoline into Italian charm” machine. And no, you philistine, it is not as fast as your wife’s Mazda 3, but that is really not the point of this car is it? Of course being Italian it has a few quirks, which those of you with a more rational mindset might find maddening. The turn signal stalk and the stalk that turns on the lights somehow, physics be dammed, manages to occupy the same space at the same time, so every time you turn a corner you end up flashing your lights. The trunk release leaver is in the doorsill and the doors, trunk, ignition, and glove box all have a different key (from the factory). There are four lights on the dash surrounding some gauges. 2 red, 1 green and 1 blue. They indicate low fuel pressure, low oil pressure, lights on, and parking brake on/low brake fluid respectively. Simple enough right? Thing is though, these lights are completely un-labeled. It is sort of like they had the intern just grab a handful of switches and gauges and throw them at the clay model and wherever they landed, that’s where they were going. It doesn’t get much more Italian that that. All this just adds up to more charm though. It gives you the feeling that getting an espresso is more important that getting your taxes done. The engine is not only smooth running but it is so good-looking, with the Alfa Romeo script stamped into the black matte cam covers, and the Italian labels (OLIO on the oil cap for example) that it is literally calming to look at. It’s no wonder they used the same engine from 1966-1994 (which as a bonus makes parts easy to find). Should you get one? Of course you should, unless you don’t like having fun. My experience with this car has been nothing but joy. I think I might be a secret Italian. And really, aren’t we all? Anyway, I need to go mop up the oil it is leaking, but hey if its not leaking its not full right? Ciao!