Category: Uncategorized (Page 2 of 2)

What’s the deal with Alfas? Growing up, a tall, curly-haired bloke told me you aren’t a true petrolhead unless you’ve owned an Alfa. But when he grew up, Alfas were fizzy little Italian stallions with bellowing V6s, pin-sharp chassis, and tailored cockpits. But when I grew up, Alfas were diesel barges that looked… alright, but never gave you that ‘wow factor’ when behind the wheel. Once GM came into the equation, sharing Fiat platforms and powertrain projects with noughties Alfas, the magic was kind of lost.

When you think of a supercar, you picture bold, striking colours, right? Rosso Corsa, Verde Mantis, Papaya Spark, Guards Red, and so on. It’s usually a rite of passage with supercar ownership. You spend all that money; you want to be seen. You want people to think you’re well-off, and more superior as a result. You don’t buy a Ferrari in Rosso Corsa to blend in, you buy it to stand out, or to drive like a knob through Central London, revving the engine in neutral more than actually moving.

You’re standing in Nairobi, Kenya, April 1976.
The air is heavy with the promise of rain. Ahead of you lie 3,100 miles of some of the most punishing terrain on Planet Earth. Rugged Peugeots and Datsuns roam the paddock, purpose-built to withstand Africa’s worst. But you? You’re about to take on the Safari Rally in a Lancia Stratos HF, a rally weapon forged for Monte Carlo, not the Maasai Mara.

I don’t really have an issue with upgrading noughties Porsches to make these things. It’s a bit like upgrading your car on Forza Horizon, just a rite of passage each time you buy something from the Horizon Festival. You add new bumpers, paint your wheels black, drop in a ‘race engine’ and call it a day. And now you’re winning all the races.

There was a weird little window in the late noughties when the car world went a bit mad. I’m talking 2007 to 2010, right in the middle of a global recession. This was the era that gave us the Lexus LFA and its glorious 9,000 rpm scream. Tesla dropped the Roadster and proved EVs could actually be fast. Formula 1 downsized from V10s to V8s. GM pulled the plug on Pontiac and Hummer. And over in Dingolfing, BMW started building what might be the most unhinged, nonsensical, hair-brained vehicle they’ve ever made.

When you’re the director of what’s widely regarded as the custodian of British motorsport’s bloodline and heritage, you’d better have a ride to match. This isn’t just any club; it’s an institution so exclusive that full membership is reserved for those who’ve achieved top-level national or international success over multiple seasons. With motorsport royalty like David Coulthard, Martin Brundle, Damon Hill, Nigel Mansell, and the Flying Scot himself, Jackie Stewart, among your peers, your wheels ought to speak the same language.

As I rounded the corner of a discreet housing estate buried on the rural fringes of a busy Cotswold town, my gaze landed squarely on this rather ominous specced Ferrari GTC4 Lusso. At first, I snapped a quick front and back portrait shot and thought nothing more of it. But once I got home, I thought, ‘This could make a great writeup.’ So I jumped in the car and went back out just to see it again. And here we are.

Something about a neglected, city-dwelling sports car isn’t it. I think it’s a combination of two things. First, there’s the idea that you might stumble upon the owner, politely lowball them, and ‘rescue’ their humble Boxster, locking it away to a lifetime of two bucket washes, a regular service, and Sunday morning car meets. The second is the curious; the idea that there is someone out there who loves a Boxster enough to keep it in permit parking in one of Bath’s most affluent areas, but despite likely having the coin, won’t undertake what most enthusiasts or even car owners might deem basic visual maintenance.

Today is Easter Sunday, Happy Easter to those who celebrate it! This afternoon I was at Marque in the Park 2025 in Bath, after making a discovery it was a thing in the morning. I didn’t really know what to expect as I was driving there, with the advertisement saying, ‘there’s a car here for everyone, from 1950 to 2024.’ But as I drove past the park’s gates on London Road, I caught a glimpse of what was on offer. It looked promising!