The Irish Mail on Sunday
I SIT FOR A LONG TIME BEFORE FIRING HER UP, MAKING THE NOISES I HOPE I’M ABOUT TO HEAR
the roads opened up, so did this little signora, proving surprisingly nippy providing I kept her wound up. The more you stay in the torque band, the more fun you’ll have right up to the red line – rare for a diesel (Big Brother notwithstanding, that is). Her handling I also found both positive and precise .
One more little niggle, though. Conspicuous by its absence was a simple footrest to the left of the clutch pedal. I’m amazed how many car-makers consider this unimportant and don’t bother. I wonder what they expect us to do with our left leg on a long run. Terrible for our posture and even worse for the clutch-release bearing. But of course – I forgot. She is a founder member of the Italian elite, which means as well as being quirky, the more impractical she is, the more bona fide her membership.
Take also, then, for instance, the challenge of where to conveniently stow a bottle of water.
How about simply placing it in the bottle holder and then expecting to be able to put the armrest back down again ready for a relaxing drive? Er, never going to happen. I can only presume that not only are Italians smaller than us, their beverages are, too. Now try to operate the handbrake lever a few times without developing wrists like a shot putter. Oh, and while you’re at it, have a go at buckling up your seat belt with the armrest down, trying to use just one hand. No chance. Backtobiggerpeople,youseemto