August was always going to be a tough month for the Fiat. A trip to the welders, a visit to an Italian car specialist, then an appointment with the MOT tester. Head versus heart territory. But before all that, it had one last task: a warts-and-all public appearance at the Haynes Breakfast Club meet.
We left the house at 6.30am in convoy: the Mk1 Renault Twingo led the way (being the slowest of the three, to be fair), followed by the Proton Satria GTi and the Coupé. A proper little trio. First stop was McDonald’s in Sparkford for a quick coffee, before heading to the Haynes car park.
The Coupé was brilliant. Despite a few gremlins and more than a few cosmetic issues (including a generous dent in the driver’s door), it ran sweetly. The starting issue – for now – has vanished. It fired up at home, at McDonald’s, at Haynes, and later at Greggs. I was holding my breath and crossing my fingers each time.
At Haynes, it didn’t draw much attention – not surprising in a sea of modified Japanese cars, fast Fords with shouty exhausts and clouds of vape smoke. Maybe I’m getting old. Actually, no maybe about it.
That said, a friendly marshal gave it a nod of approval and said something like: “You don’t see many of these anymore – lovely.” He then glanced at the door and added: “Looks like someone wants to see even fewer!” Fair.
The drive home was excellent. I took the lead this time, making the most of a quieter A30, the corners, and the surprisingly similar performance of the Proton. A second gear would have made things even better, mind you.
Stopped at Greggs in Honiton for another coffee. No air-con (base spec life), and I’m sure the gearbox is whining more than before. But honestly? None of it mattered. The engine, the driving position, the way it makes me feel, the way it looked reflected in the shop windows of Crewkerne and Chard… I’m very much in love.
It’s flawed. It’s far from perfect. But it’s the one that’s got under my skin faster than almost anything I’ve driven. Even with no second gear, a dented door, a hole in the floor and an ABS light staring back at me from the dashboard, it makes me feel something. That’s worth holding onto – at least until the welders get stuck in.
