Our contributor in the Netherlands takes a spin in an Alpine A110 with a bit of a history.
It´s Ferrari-red, yet it’s not a Ferrari. It’s rear-engined like a Porsche, yet it’s not a Porsche. Still, it’s noisy enough to disrupt the Saturday morning quiet in a peaceful Belgian town as its low, sleek form makes its way along the cobblestones. After the engine is switched off, it stands there, ticking in the early spring sun. Now that was an interesting drive.
Chicken shit. Forgive me that last remark, but this 1971 Alpine A110 1300VC was covered in that very substance when current owner Ernest Meylemans rescued it from a shed somewhere in Belgium in 1994. Luckily, Ernest is a handy chap. Still, it took him and his father - who had a mechanical background - a good four years to restore his newly acquired motor to its former glory. They did a splendid job. In 1998 they finished the restoration, and in the ensuing twelve years Ernest has bonded with this car in a way that makes him say he’ll never sell it. The front of the A110 resembles that of a Porsche 911, with its long nose and round headlights and windscreen. Well, it also resembles a Beetle, but there is a distinct sporting DNA in the Alpine brand. It originated in the French city of Dieppe just after WWII, where garage owner Jean Rédélé was a succesful racer. As he gathered more succes racing Renault 4CVs – most notably winning his class in the notorious Mille Miglia and the Coupe des Alpes – he founded his own company, Alpine. Its first car, the A106, was a small coupé based on the Renault 4CV, and the company was to remain very close to Renautl through its existence.
The A110 was introduced in 1961. It was designed to use parts of the Renault 8, which was introduced around the same time and brought the Alpine brand bang up to date. It also made the Alpine name a serious force in motorsport. The A110 quickly gathered fame as a great rally car, winning the 1971 Monte Carlo Rally in the hands of Ove Andersson and becoming almost synonymous with the Monte ever since. Another driver behind the wheel of an A110 was even more notable. In Brazil, the A110 - they called it the Interlagos over there - was even raced by the likes of Emerson Fittipaldi. And boy, did they have fun! The Alpine is a very, very low car. This makes for a driving position that is closer to that of a single-seater racing car than most road cars. It also ensures that you're quite close to the action on the tarmac. The sensation of speed this brings is enforced by a typical Alpine feature, namely the glassfibre body which manages to convey the soundtrack of the 1289cc engine from the Renault 12 TS. Normally this unit produces 81 bhp, but in this car it has been fettled with and turns out a healthy 120 horsepower. That doesn’t sound like much, but due to the glassfibre this car is a true featherweight. Colin Chapman and his fetish for lightness were an inspiration for Alpine’s designers, and just like in Chapman's Lotuses this lightness adds up to serious performance. The 740kg Alpine will quite gladly accelerate up to 200 km/h. “Though, at those speeds it isn’t much fun anymore,”, says Ernest, “way too much rattles and noise.”
It definitely rattles on the typical Belgian cobblestones over which we drive it today. But, somehow it feels at home. Maybe the cobblestones remind it of France! Probably it’s just that the B-roads in this area on the Dutch and Belgian border are ideally suited to this sort of car. The rear wheel-drive and rear-engined layout ensures there is a load of fun to be had in corners and on roundabouts. This car is - and thank God for it - a world away from the slick, computer-aided cars of today. You can forget about bogus additions such as ABS or traction control. No power steering here either, and an old-fashioned almighty stomp on the brake pedal is required to generate any form of retardation. The gear lever usually requires some convincing to get in the right gear. All this so-called discomfort adds up to a complete driving experience. Exiting a corner, flattening the throttle and hearing the engine bark its way up to fifth gear is nothing short of addictive, the Devil-exhaust providing the engine with an aggressive growl. While you´re doing that, the car constantly reminds you of how much fun it is to actually drive, rather than relying on technology and computers. Sure, after a while it makes your eyes bulge with concentration and your arms hurt with effort, but it also activates the most important muscles in your body, namely the ones that make you smile.
Making you smile is one thing this particular car seems to be very good at. Not only because of the way it drives, but because of its history too. As we said before, this car was covered in chicken faeces when Ernest rescued it from its shed, where it had been sitting for ten years. It was a gift from a man to his son, who never really warmed to it. The ladies did, however, and that fact didn´t go unnoticed with its owner. So, the Alpine only ever was used on the Saturday night run, to impress the birds. For his part, Ernest is sure the previous owner of his car did have success at that. He says: “When I was cleaning out the car I immediately understood why the black marks on the roof upholstery were there and wouldn’t go away. I do wonder how he managed to make out with a girl in a car this small!”
Having parked the Alpine on the little town square, a round of beers caps things off. The Alpine is really cool. Now doesn´t the thought of that make you smile?
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