Car review: Caught in the 4C Spider’s web of thrills
Alfa Romeo’s little sports car brings back serious memories of what driving was meant to be before we became engulfed inside a sea of hi-tech amenities
There is a moment while driving Alfa Romeo’s little sports car that you may suffer serious flashbacks. Not to the time when you drove in comfort. Or when you could get in and out of such a low slung vehicle without having to literally cling on to the roof sill. It’s that time when you were seven, hurtling down what felt like an Alp of a hill, your go-cart on the brink of going out of control. And this was when go-carts didn’t have air bags.
If that sounds worrying to any would-be buyer, then you’re not a buyer of the 4C Spider, the name part class form, part nod to 1966 Alfa Romeo Spider to which this car pays tribute: just 50 of these will be made, one for each year that’s passed since that iconic sports car took to the road. In an age in which sports cars can’t decide where luxury should stop and thrills start – as though the aniline leather was more important than adrenaline loving – worry is precisely what you want.
Certainly the 4C is not for everyone. Its designers seemed to have got carried away with trivialities the likes of “special edition badging” at the expense of those things some would consider necessities. It is, for instance, hard enough to get a solitary human into the 4C, let alone a passenger – if you do, make sure you’re on intimate terms – or anything much akin to luggage.
The irony, indeed, is that for buyers of the 4C its makers are throwing in a travel bag that matches the upholstery. It’s a sweetener you’ll just have to leave at home.
The interior design isn’t much better, if gloss, sophistication or smarts are what you’re after. Forget the gearbox for a moment – here everything seems to be manual. You want the air vent open? Stick your finger in it. You’ll wonder where to put your coffee, until you knock it over with your elbow – for, mysteriously, this is precisely where the cup-holder has been placed.
The entertainment system common to other top-end cars – high definition screens, sub-woofers, satellite connectivity, dancing girls – is here demoted to something called a radio. There’s plenty of carbon fibre, fashionably exposed to signal the car’s hi-techery – an idea taken to its logical conclusion in also exposing the screws and bolts that one supposes holds the whole thing together. But otherwise the fascia is basic and black. Despite the £67,505 (HK$638,700) price tag, expect no wood. At least, not of the kind that comes from trees.