Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio
Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou…? Editor Stuart Gallagher bids a reluctant farewell as his Italian love affair has to come to an end
IT IS OVER. THERE IS NO LONGER an Alfa Romeo in my life, and that makes me really rather sad. No more intoxicating performance and effortless lunges for the horizon. No more whip-crack gearshifts; the end of razor-sharp turn-in and a lockeddown rear axle. Farewell to the best car seat I’ve ever sat in and the most ergonomically sorted cabin this side of a Mclaren. Life with the Giulia Quadrifoglio was nothing but a smile-a-mile and utterly beguiling. It was fast. It was thrilling. And boy was it a sight for sore eyes after a long-haul flight.
I fell agonisingly short of hitting 20,000 miles in nine months of ‘ownership’, and it’s this number that stands out. Yes, the 503bhp generated by the Ferrari-derived 2.9-litre twin-turbo V6 was as addictive as pork-based snacks and a pint of Adnams Dry Hopped, but considering Alfa’s reputation when it comes to reliability, that RJ66 KZB only visited a dealer once – for a routine service – during that distance should answer all the cynics’ questions on this front. While I’m not blinkered to the fact that colleagues on other motoring mags running Quadrifoglios haven’t had such trouble-free experiences, I can only report on how evo’s car behaved and it was pretty much impeccable, although wind noise from both front doors was an issue that appeared to only affect our car and not other Giulias I’ve tried.
Soon after our car arrived, while fitting fresh tyres following some track work and a full test with an M3 ( evo 237), Alfa UK replaced
the optional ceramic brakes, under warranty, to solve an issue where one of the rear pads wasn’t seating properly. Being such a new model, Alfa wanted to send all the parts back to Italy for investigation. Around the same time a clicking noise appeared when the steering was on full-lock. At the service the dealer traced this to one of the backing plates for the front discs catching and duly solved the issue. And that was it. No limp-home modes, no hissy fits, no sitting at the roadside awaiting a day-glo Transit to come to my rescue.
A ‘fault’ that did frustrate was that the Giulia’s diff is set up to aid the car to be as quick as possible round a track, rather than be a show-off and drift from apex to apex. Light up the rear Pirelli P Zero Corsas for more than three consecutive corners and the diff called ‘enough’ and required time to cool down. But drive it how it was developed to be driven and it would lap until you ran out of 97 RON.
A bigger frustration was tyre wear. The super-sticky Corsas may have delivered leachlike grip, but the pay-off was a wear rate that would make a Pirelli shareholder wince with shame – 3500 miles was the poorest return, with just over 6000 the norm. And rather embarrassingly, we got through one extra pair of front tyres than we did rears. This was down to the aggressive geometry of the front suspension, which gave the Quadrifoglio its electric turn-in at the cost of eating rubber nearly as quickly as it gulped superunleaded. A gallon every 24 miles, since you ask.
All of this I could live with had I paid the £73,305 (with options), because the Giulia was one of the most enthralling and wickedly brilliant cars I have run. Every drive was a journey that thrilled, one that allowed you to savour every mechanical interaction and relish in the car’s quite extraordinary performance. And it was extraordinary in not only the speeds it could reach and how quickly it would reach them, but also in its ability to pile on the speed with unwavering confidence. It didn’t go in for
‘ The 503bhp Ferrariderived V6 was as addictive as pork-based snacks and a pint of Adnams Dry Hopped’
roaring engines and blaring exhaust notes for the sake of it, but you didn’t feel short-changed because of it. The drive modes could perfectly suit your mood, too, with Normal and Dynamic typically offering the best blend, and Race for when you wanted a triple espresso hit.
Then there were the occasions I would step out of the Giulia after a drive and have to think long and hard about what car would have been more involving, intoxicating and thrilling. The answer would always be something rear- or mid-engined from Stuttgart, or of the latter configuration from Hethel or Woking.
Our Alfa wore its Italian heritage on its sleeve. Proud, committed and achingly cool about how it set about the task in hand, it made any M-car visiting evo appear to be trying too hard, and AMGS look like shouty newbies. Audi RS models parked elsewhere.
If you want a fuss-free supersaloon that focuses purely on driver involvement with huge rewards, few in the Quadrifoglio’s class come close, and you won’t find a more evo supersaloon. I miss it terribly.