By Antti Kautonen
It seems I’m dealing with themes of loss and alienation recently. No, it’s nothing of a too-personal matter, or something to do with the well-being of anyone human: no, we’re on a perfectly machine-related level here. My last posts dabbled with the logistics of selling my daily driver and coping with it: as of last night, I’m rendered laptopless. Laptop-less, not lap-topless. This here thing I’m using is my GF’s MBP, and I have to remain SFW.
The current understanding is that for some reason my HD is out of touch, floating inside the aluminum Apple shell and completely unreachable. I took my ailing MBP to the reseller where I got it, and it’s up to the warranty to bring it back to me none the worse for wear. Of course, some of my photo work is at stake since despite taking back-up measures with all my previous Apple products, this one had to survive on its own devices for slacktivistic reasons. But as 99% of my photos are already posted here, with a good bulk safely clouded over at Dropbox, I’m not super-bummed. Life happens, time to charge the camera and shoot more.
But this is only one of the current events closely related to change in my life. We’re also moving apartment in the near future, which means I could very well use a vehicle that would be capable of moving long, unwieldy objects like sofas and disassembled bookcases. Even if I already got my 205 back and it’s in rude fighting health, folding the rear seat won’t give me cavernous loadspace, no matter how box-shaped the car in fact is. Enter the wagon consideration, a first in my life. Enter the Fiat Tempura.
The 1990s Fiat Tempra is based on the Italian Type Three automotive floorpan, its siblings the Alfa Romeo 155 and the Lancia Dedra. But as the only one of those three, it came – in some versions – with an absolutely fantastic-looking, architectural digital dashboard. In addition to the rear bumper folding down to enable longer objects, it’s the most definitive selling point of the car. I love it.
This 1995 car is for sale at a local dealer, who has originally owned it over ten years ago himself as a daily driver. I dislike the fact it’s still on the same cambelt as in 2002, but it hasn’t done too many kilometres since then; 156k vs 92k. It’s a tidy specimen of an already thinning herd of large Italian cars; it’s roughly 850 wagon-sized and also a front-driver.
We awakened the Tempra from amidst the fallen snow. It started without complaints, first try, but the locks were well and truly frozen. The temprature also manifested itself as a host of creaks around the interior, but I was definitely pleased to find the car handling composedly around the flowing-cornered section of back road that I so eagerly visited with the Accord. Tire roar from the good-looking Goodyears was enormous, but the studs kept it pointing in the right direction.
Don’t get me wrong, it showed its bulk as I whisked it around, but it’s no barge and it didn’t topple. Granted, it was no low-to-the-ground Honda either, but it wasn’t strictly business only by all means.
It’s not the ideal Tempra, of course. That would be the 2.0-litre version with Alcantara-esque seats and sometimes four-wheel drive – but this 1.6-litre version didn’t feel short on the go. Despite only having 90hp on tap when new, it felt brisker than my departed 518i did with 115. And it has to be said the steering was more awake on the centre section. And the digi dash worked exactly as I had hoped – flicker free and true to my ’80s-addled soul.
Roaming through the woods, my progress was soon hindered by a slowly-moving Peugeot 607. I did a 180° and headed back to the dealer. Rummaging through the Tempra’s boot, looking for unpleasantness and finding barely any, I was joined by Pertti, the Rover driver – he had been gently test-driving the blue 607 also for sale and noticed a fast-approaching Tempra in his rear-view. As I had mentioned the Fiat to him earlier this week, he knew I was out experiencing the Italian white elephant if was happy to find almost rust free.
And it was in his presence that I asked for the final price: 1400 euros, haggled down from 1590. That is way too high for a Tempra, even one as nice as this, as they usually move for 500-700 eur. It was on the wrong side of a grand, and wouldn’t come down. Even if I’d have to do the belt, change the cam cover gasket and source some summer tires to replace the ones reportedly stolen from the Fiat’s trunk one night. And they were practically new – of course they would be, wouldn’t they?
I left the Tempra there, on friendly terms, hoping for the price to be sliced in the weeks to come. It’s not a bad car, just wrongly priced, and one I could actually want to live with. On the Lidl parking lot I met an acquaintance with a blue Xantia 2.0i 16v wagon he’s eager to sell for cheap. At 315k km it’s done a lot of driving and bears a couple of electro-gremlins, but it’s been kept in decent shape and away from rust, with recent enough suspension spheres and a guarantee of a near-future MOT. If it passes, and is available for the “few hundred” he spoke of, I’d be happy to sample it a little bit closer. It could be my beater Cit to haul the complicated bits.
[Images: Copyright 2014 Antti Kautonen except those noted Nettiauto.com, tampered lead photo Fiat. Yes, that punsome typo up there was intended]
Jeff Glucker