Our Classics
Keith never intended to part with his Citroën GS, but this German exec changed his mind
1982 AUDI 80 CL
They say that nostalgia is a powerful thing. Well, thank goodness it is because if you’re reading this, that means that you’re a fan of looking backwards as well as forwards. It means everything to me and seems to lead me from one classic car purchase to another. My acquisition of the Audi 80 you see here is a great example of my love of living in the past overtaking all logic and reasoning.
It started with an email forwarded on to me by Practical Classics editor, Danny Hopkins. It was one of those messages that I always hate opening, because the subject line always goes something along the lines of ‘car for sale – good home needed’. I end up agonising why I need the car contained within pretty much every time, generally because it’s being offered to the classic car family first, often at an attractive price.
This one was no different – just more relevant to me than usual. The email, originally from one Dave Robertshaw, showed a very finelooking 1982 Audi 80 CL and was accompanied by words that I always love to see: ‘It’s been cherished while I’ve owned it.’ Danny knew that I’d bite even before I’d read the email – I love the B2generation Audi 80, and have been after one for decades.
Back in the early
1980s, before I became hooked on BL and Citroën products, my car of choice always harked from Ingolstadt.
I owned a couple of Audi 80s during the 1990s and loved every mile I drove in them. The first – a five-cylinder CD – was a genuine taste of the exotic for someone like me; its warbling soundtrack and all-round electric windows had me hooked. But it was old and not reliable enough to rely upon, so, I replaced it after a happy year with it with a later 80 CL, which ended up staying with me for a further year. During that time, I upgraded it with CD alloy wheels and spoiler, debadged it and pretended that I was driving around in a quattro.
And now, 30-or-so years on, Dave had offered me the chance to relive my youth with his 80 CL, which had also been updated with a bunch of
CD bits, so I could pretend to be a quattro driver once again.
Needless to say, I immediately answered the email, offering my money there and then, with a deal struck faster than you can say ‘Ferdinand Piëch’.
Days later, I found myself shaking hands with owner Dave in his garage and facing a 100-mile drive home in a 1982 car that I’d never clapped eyes on before. It looks as good as new, despite having more than 120,000 miles on the clock – other than a couple of small rust bubbles, it’s a remarkable survivor.
It’s astonishingly clean under the bonnet and in the boot, too. Opening the door, the warm aroma of plastic and velour transports me straight back to 1991; climbing in and resting my hands on the offset wheel, it’s like I’ve never been away. Yup, nostalgia is a powerful thing.
A quick churn of the starter and the 1.6-litre jumps into life like an eager puppy wanting to play with its new master. It’s sounds more tappety than I remember, but it’s responsive on the throttle and accelerates far more keenly than a 75bhp saloon should as I pull away. Perhaps Dave’s Weber carburettor conversion has liberated a few more horses.
By the time I’d threaded my way out of Leeds and onto the M62, I was comfortable, happy and almost as at home in it as I was in my muchmissed Citroën GS Pallas, which this Audi replaced. You can tell that Dave has put his heart and soul into this car because it’s as tight as a drum and way more together than a lightweight, jumped up Passat in a posh frock has any right to be.
It reeled off the 100-mile schlep down the A1 with ease. There was a slight hesitancy at mid-revs that hints that it could do with a carburettor service, and the wheel is ever so slightly off-centre. Other faults are there, but they’re so minor that I’ll save talking about them for a further update.
Needless to say, I am very happy with my new classic and you can expect to see me out and about in it throughout this year’s events season.