ROBERT COUCHER
The Driver
In this issue we celebrate 60 years of the Renault 4 (see Overdrive) and take a look at buying a Peugeot 406 coupé (The Market). Agreed, that’s probably not going to knock your socks off with excitement – though I am certain the mad Ferrari cover car will – and I have never been particularly interested in French cars. But looking back, they have had quite an impact on my motoring life. Literally, on two specific occasions.
When I was young my mother had a Peugeot 404. I didn’t like it much because, although Pininfarina-styled, it looked like a pale blue box and she used to get very animated trying to operate the column shift. But the old thing was solid and effective as the school-run bus. Peugeot 404s were assembled in South Africa, Rhodesia and Kenya, and won the tough Safari Rally four times during the 1960s. Being simple and sturdy, with long-travel suspension, they became ubiquitous African cars, tied together with rope and wire and coaxed along for decades.
At the time one of our neighbours had a 404 Brake (the estate version), finished in burgundy. I noticed it because it appeared to be so long. Holidaying back in the Cape a few years ago I saw her still trundling around the ’hood in the Brake, which must have been half a century later! Our 404 was replaced by a much smarter Peugeot 504, which had very large and comfortable seats. That model, too, went on to win various Africa rallies and became known as the African workhorse.
So far, so boring. At Varsity I had sort of restored my Lancia Aurelia but it was fitted with a tuned Ford 3.0-litre V6 (don’t ask) and the petrol consumption was too much for an impecunious student. My father soon tired of me nicking petrol out of all his cars so he found me a Renault 4. In baby blue! As a hot-shot car guy I was mortally embarrassed driving the pathetic tin can around, so did my best to break it. I used to rev it hard from cold, pinning the tiny throttle pedal at all times and not bothering to use the clutch when changing gears via that ludicrous lever poking straight out of the dash. But I couldn’t kill it and the Renault soaked up all the abuse with Gallic insouciance.
One night I was T-boned at a traffic intersection and the 4 ended up on its side. Fortunately, the offending Fiat 124 hit the Renault directly on the strong rear suspension mount, otherwise it would have smashed straight through the flimsy bodywork. No matter, we towed the bent 4 home and chopped the roof off, rendering it a cute Plein Air and, indeed, a nice little beach car. It survived.
Moving up to Johannesburg for the Mad Men episode of my life in the ad agency business, with a friend I decided to go racing at Kyalami, one of the fastest circuits in the world. We couldn’t afford much so ended up with a Renault, this time a 5. Painted bright yellow, the car was on its last legs but it soon became apparent that it was quite easy to get it up onto three wheels through Barbeque Bend and Jukskei Sweep. The Group N racing was fantastic fun, with the little Renault hammering along at the back of the field… until the accident at Sunset Bend. Yep, I flipped it many times over but walked away. Again.
Of course, the French marque we all love is Citroën. The 2CV is the all-time French classic but, I have to opine, the less wacky Renault 4 is the better car. Have you driven a 2CV? A joyful experience but the mechanical thrash will make your ears bleed if you try pushing it with any intent. Great, but only in the right circumstances.
Some years ago, I drove through France with Bentley Boy, Martin Overington. His usual steed is a flat-out, supercharged WO Bentley but this time we flew across
La Belle France in his ‘flat-out’ Citroën DS, to the famous Hotel de France he owns in La Chartre-sur-le-Loir near Le Mans circuit. Famous because this is where John Wyer’s Aston Martin, Ford and Porsche racing teams billeted for assaults on La Sarthe. The hotel remains a mecca for petrolheads and is located amid open French roads – ideal country to enjoy Martin’s DS and the early 2CV he keeps at the place for the lolloping drive to collect fresh eggs at the market. Here, you ease back on the throttle and marvel at the ethereal suspension and quirky nature of both Citroëns. Absolutely at home.
Given the choice of French cars, one I’d like to have is a Citroën D23 Pallas. Class and beauty, the Catherine Deneuve of automobiles. I really don’t want another upside-down Renault in my life, thank you very much, whereas a sensuous DS would be perfect for long driving adventures. But la Déesse is slightly let down by its old Traction lump and overly complicated suspension. I am channelling the thought of a quieter, more sophisticated engine and air-ride…
‘HAVE YOU DRIVEN A 2CV? A JOYFUL EXPERIENCE BUT THE MECHANICAL THRASH WILL MAKE YOUR EARS BLEED’