The Sapporo has now been gone for a couple months, and I have settled to the reality of a one-car household. I do believe it’s miserable, as there’s no variation. There are objects that simply won’t fit into the BMW’s shallow boot, and the rear seat does not fold. The ski hatch opening is the size of an iPad, and whatever I squeeze in through the rear doors needs to be put in carefully. Of course, complaining about space when I have been considering sports cars like the Porsche 924 is faintly ridiculous, but the fact that the BMW isn’t a multi-purpose vehicle rings true. The Sapporo, at the very least, duly split and folded its rear seats, enabling the transport of almost anything I needed.
Add the fact the E34 518i is a solid, restrained vehicle with little intrusion of the surrounding elements, and supplementing it with a light, darty, totally hoonable hatchback is more than justified. That is exactly what I have gone and done.
Meet the latest inclusion to my motoring life: a 1990 Peugeot 205 XS.
Now, most of you will probably look at the 205 and say “But it’s not a GTI”. You’re right, it isn’t. It’s the thing just below the GTI, if you think of the stripped-out Rallye as a separate entity from the regular range. The XS bears the same interior as the GTI, minus red carpet, and comes factory-fitted with a rev-happy 1360cc twin-choke carburetor engine and a five-speed gearbox. It also has the same front air dam as the GTI, so the appearance is somewhat of a budget version without the fender flares and Speedline wheels.
It’s still an absolute gem to drive, all light, eager, rorty, snorty, revvy, and above all else, direct, with the unassisted steering. If the BMW is an old, wise, large family dog, the 205 XS is an idiot terrier. 85 horsepower at 6400rpm in a 810kg vehicle with a three-spoke steering wheel and bucket seats. Yes.
This very example was advertised for sale right here in my town, as it had been bought for a daughter as a commuter car earlier this year. As the employment winded down on her part, the Peugeot was promptly put up for sale. Looking at the history, it has had two very long term owners after first registered in 1991, and two shorter ones.
The amazing thing is that except for a couple very minor blemishes on the inside of the rear window surround and a tarnished seam in the passenger door bottom, it appears rust free all around, even in the underbody. Keep in mind its age, and the 230 000 kilometres with which it’s burdened. The camcover gasket appears to leak a bit, but that’s the only oil I see around the engine bay.
The interior isn’t pristine, as the driver’s bucket seat has some bolster wear and the car smells like years of tobacco. All that will be taken care of, just like the paintwork will be buffed back to the shine it once had. Right now, it hasn’t got a drop of polish on it, and it really needs a claybaring. There are a couple of small dents and some larger clouts in it, but they sort of suit a French car, and all in all it doesn’t appear to be a crash victim. The original Philips stereo is still present, but only one speaker really works. At least I get to play my old cassettes in the car.
Don’t get me wrong, I won’t pour funds into this one. It has valid inspection until June 2014, and comes with two good sets of tires. So far, I haven’t tracked down anybody who could tell me when the cambelt has been changed, but I’ll do my best to find that out – or then it’s time to attempt doing that myself. This is a budget vehicle, bought very affordably. I didn’t mention the price, did I? Tree fiddy.
Honestly, that little for this much car – over at Bring a Trailer there’s a certain 205 1.6 GTI that has the asking price of 15,000 dollars.
So far, I’ve washed it, put a little bit of super unleaded in it, discarded the terrible set of wheeltrims it came with, and that’s about it. It really needs a new pair of correct bumper lights, in the vein of the GTI, and there’s a pipe leading from the exhaust manifold to the MAF that’s gone adrift. Apparently the pipe is only useful in cold winter weather, and I might store this thing for the winter months unless I buy something that needs storing more. I’d also really appreciate a set of black plastic centre caps to fit the steel wheels; despite suggestions, I don’t think I’ll be splurging money on a set of GTI Speedline wheels.
The best thing is to keep it as simple as possible, as it’s really about simple motoring. But it’s not a beater; it’s just a little car bought very cheaply. Even a small idiot dog has its day.
[Images: Antti Kautonen]
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