John Simister
John experiences the new take on a motoring legend
John drives Alpine’s ultra modern take on its A110 enfant terrible.
Early last year, we ran a story on modern reinterpretations of much-loved old cars, comparing the new ones with the originals and attempting to judge how well they kept the spirit (PC, April 2018).
And now, for one week only, my driveway has been host to the latest entrant in this retrofest: the new Alpine A110. I’ve been looking forward to driving the new A110 ever since Renault revealed the plan to make it. We’ve wanted a new Alpine ever since the wonderful, and unappreciated, A610 finished production back in 1995, although Alpine’s Dieppe factory has stayed busy making Clio V6s, the Sport Spider and various other hot, or nichemodel, Renaults since then. There was a time when the original A110, a lightweight car with glassfibre bodywork, a tuned Renault motor hanging behind its rear wheels and a major rally-winnng pedigree, was affordable. A couple of times I seriously considered acquiring one myself. But prices were rocketing – you need over £50,000 to buy one now, just as you do for the new one – and I had to make do with being driven speedily in one by French racing driver (in the Seventies) and rally driver (in the Eighties) Alain Serpaggi.
Monte masterclass
It was the day after the 2013 Monte Carlo Rallye Historique, in which Renault had entered five A110s, to raise awareness for the new Alpine project that had just been announced. Serpaggi flung me down the Col de Turini in a masterclass of precision and controlled drifting, always in command of the A110’s potentially wayward, swing-axle-suspended tail. The engine barked and snorted behind us, while the curvaceous Alpine appeared to have no inertia. I wanted one more than ever.
And now the new one is with us. Its visual inspiration is obvious, but even if you were unaware of the original you would think this a fine piece design: curvaceous but neither overworked nor contrived. Its 1.8-litre, 248bhp, turbocharged engine is mounted transversely just ahead of the rear wheels instead of longitudinally behind them, and the structure is an aluminium monococque rather than a glassfibre-clad chassis. It was a lot easier to see out of the old one.
To look at, to sit in and to drive the new A110 is completely the 21st-century re-imagining of a 50-year-old design. It has the relentless potency you expect from a good modern turbo motor, with almost no response lag, uncanny smoothness and a few overrun pops and bangs to remind you of its petrol propulsion. It sits firmly on the road with that bend of compliance and precision you get in the best modern sporting machinery, the result of a super-stiff structure allowing suspension supple in its initial movements and tightly controlled thereafter.
And there’s the seven-speed, double-clutch gearbox. That and the electric parking brake made the Alpine’s task of winning me round a bit harder; my disappointment, on the car’s launch, at learning of these afflictions was significant. Faced with these realities as I belted myself into a particularly snug racing seat, I rued all the more the overstyled steering wheel, the smattering of French flag-badges, and an ‘infotainment’ system with seemingly no off-button.
After my first drive, snarled in traffic, I decided I preferred the hands-on, electronics-free simplicity of my Eunos Roadster. But then the traffic-gods smiled, I could exercise the superb engine and that amazing chassis, and suddenly it came together. Yes, even that paddle-shift transmission, as it was so instant, so smooth, and so adept at choosing precisely the right gear when in automatic mode. And thus, the Luddite left the building.
As a modern sports car, the A110 is probably peerless. It’s compact, quite light and enormous fun. So, which would I rather have in my life: Alpine or Eunos? Not having a spare £50k, it’s fortunately a question I don’t have to answer. But after the enjoyably open-air weekend away I’ve just had in Mazda’s marvellous roadster, I reckon the practical classic keeps its place in my heart.