ROBERT COUCHER
The Driver
After World War Two a good number of Lancias found their way to South Africa, surprising for a country more used to moving about in perfunctory pick-up trucks and simple sedans. After the Ford Model T, various Chevs and lots of VW Beetles, Chrysler’s bog-standard Valiant became a favourite for years until the Cortina came along. So genteel and sophisticated Lancias of the 1950s and ’60s appeared like space ships from a different universe.
During the conflict, Italian prisoners of war had been sent down to South Africa where they built amazing roads over difficult mountain passes as well as other important civil engineering projects. They were very well regarded by the locals, and many stayed in a country which did well out of the war and thereafter boomed. Good relations between Italy and South Africa continued into the ’50s and more Italians emigrated there, including one Raimondo di Boyle who set up the Transvaal Agricultural Kooperasie to sell tractor parts. The business grew and so he called his friends, the Lancia brothers in Turin, and TAK became South Africa’s Lancia importer.
Things carried on booming, so Raimondo contacted other friends and started importing Ferraris. In fact South Africa was one of the first concessionaires outside mainland Europe, selling a 212 Barchetta in 1952. Wonder if Luigi Chinetti Jr, who set up in the USA in 1954, knew that!
South Africa was a small market, but with its gold and diamond mines running at full chat the place was a money-spinner for some and exciting sports cars were in demand. To protect the local industry, which includes BMW, Mercedes-Benz and Volkswagen, imported cars have always attracted huge duties of over 100%. So a car not manufactured locally was something special – and even more so if left-hand drive, standing out from the usual right-hand-drive locals.
From the ’50s until the early ’80s South Africa rollicked along like a Wilbur Smith novel. For the white tribe, at least, life was careless, dangerous and extremely exciting. With no public transport apart from the upmarket Blue Train, travelling around the vast country required either motor cars or light aircraft. So the locals were besotted with all things motoring, especially the racing up at Kyalami at what was then the Transvaal on the high veld. The Nine Hours was made famous here in the UK by David Piper and his Ferraris, while the saloon-car racing saw duels almost to the death. The Formula 1 circus loved this insanely fast circuit, the drivers especially enjoying being billeted at the Kyalami Ranch hotel which also just happened to be the hotel of choice for most of the international airlines’ air hostesses.
Anyway, Lancias… There were quite a few in the Coucher family over the years: Aurelias, a wonderfully weird Flavia Zagato; a couple of Fulvias including a 1600 HF that was faster than the early 1.3S but not as nicely engineered, so never felt as oiled and balanced. Finally came the ‘Popemobile’, a stately Flaminia Berlina painted in serious ink blue. (See Buying Guide for more.) It looked like a very well-cut Austin Westminster – both were penned by Pininfarina – but was better built even than the RollsRoyce Silver Cloud I with which it shared garage space for a while. The engineering was much more sophisticated, too, and the Lancia would leave the Silver Cloud for dead on the road.
This was unusual because most classic Lancias, apart from rallyflavoured ones, are underpowered compared with rival Ferraris and Masers. This was only really resolved with the 2.8-litre, 150bhp V6 as used in the Flaminia Zagato Super Sport. That was the secret with our Flaminia Berlina. The original owner, a committed Lancisto, ordered a 2.5-litre Berlina to replace his smaller, lighter Aurelia. He found the performance was not quite up to scratch so he fired off a complaint to Turin. A 2.8-litre V6 with triple Weber carbs duly arrived in a crate at Cape Town docks, which was then fitted to the disgruntled owner’s Flaminia by Garage Viglietti, the Ferrari specialist.
It didn’t turn the 1430kg, left-hand-drive Flaminia into a hot-rod, but it added enough extra grunt to make things interesting. The big V6 could be persuaded to rev to the red-line in each gear, the next one in the four-speed manual transaxle then selected via a gearlever action of unimpeachable precision. Double wishbones at the front and a de Dion axle at the rear helped exploit the Michelin X tyres’ grip to the full, and disc brakes all round halted the Flaminia effectively. The large, discreet ‘Popemobile’ had become a fabulously swift limo, accompanied by the operatic roar of three wide-open Webers.
‘HE FIRED OFF A COMPLAINT, AND A 2.8-LITRE V6 WITH TRIPLE WEBER CARBS DULY ARRIVED AT CAPE TOWN DOCKS’