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Skinny Cappuccino: Part two
4 years ago
Jo's Cappuccino has undergone a much-needed restoration
In the beginning each email that pinged onto my phone was greeted with judicious frowning and rubbing of temples – often the reaction to the reality of not being able to source yet another discontinued or rare part. Such was the case with the floorpan, which despite being assigned a part number, had mysteriously never been made available to the market by Suzuki. Or the rollercoaster of emotions I went through with the inner sills, from the joy of the eureka moment when I found a set tucked away in a Japanese catalogue to the untold misery of seeing my order cancelled after payment, and learning they had recently been discontinued by the manufacturer.
Lucky then, that if the part indeed existed, MP&R would track it down with bloodhound tenacity. They found, incredibly, what appeared to be the only new outer sill in the UK and I couldn’t jump in the M3 quick enough to collect it from a fellow Cappuccino owner, who’d spent the last years collecting random brand new parts ‘just in case he needed them’. I was already clinging to my new prized possession when I was told that if I hadn’t turned up that day, there were 10 other desperate Cappuccino-fiends eager who’d have shown up the next.
When parts didn’t materialise, it was a case of either fabricating new ones or simply looking at the problem from another direction. Who knew, for instance, that Cappuccino outer arches are a perfect match to the previous generation Peugeot Partner/Citroën Berlingo front wing? This I found ironically fitting: my first job in the automotive world was working in the plant that built them, so in a sense it felt like a weird roundabout way of the universe paying me back.
"The little Cappuccino, having fought so valiantly, was now plagued by electrical and fuelling issues. Not only that, but like a lover inexplicably going cold and distant, the updates from MP&R had suddenly gone quiet"
The ‘skinny Cappuccino’ nickname earned in part one of this story proved quite accurate. Steel panels that were exceptionally thin when they started life had been nibbled or in places completely devoured by the 27 British winters through which the car had lived. Upon inspection, there seemed to be a notable absence of factory seam sealer which certainly had not helped the little Cappuccino’s chances of survival. This led to the most labour intensive part of the job and a marathon of welding and fabrication ensued, followed by lead loading of any thinner areas to bring back thickness and strength, without any small patch-overs and completed to OEM specification and better in finish.
This was the toughest part of the process. Even with the reassurance that my car ‘must have been one of the better ones out there’, new pockets of rust were popping up in all the most awkward places, appearing to multiply by the day like a Gremlin that had come into contact with water. But finally the Cappuccino started to gain some healthy weight, taking it from Dickensian urchin to the featherweight boxer it once had and was always intended to be.
"Just imagine my emotions when I drove into Caffeine & Machine to meet some friends, only to find the MP&R team and my beloved little Cappuccino waiting for me in the building. In a move that may or may not have awarded him untold brownie points, my partner had gone behind my back and schemed our reunion as an early birthday surprise"
Occasionally Mike was even a bearer of good news, and there were times I admit I received his emails with tears of joy – much to the confusion of my fellow gym-goers on at least one occasion. For instance when dropping the fuel tank for sandblasting, we discovered the rear bulkhead was as good as new, which came as a relief and meant we could finally pack the welding machine away.
The next step was to prevent corrosion ever happening again, so we ensured the seams were fully sealed and doused the underside and any bare metal areas with a selection of zinc and anti-corrosive epoxy primers, followed by body-colour tinted UPol Raptor protective coat.
Now we were on the home straight. The car was painted and polished, back to a less pinky-shade of the original Suzuki red. The engine bay was tidied up. New bushes were ordered from Japan, with shipping costs that made me wince. Anything that looked perished, worn or out of place in a now brand new chassis was replaced. And, to ensure that it stayed this way, I asked MP&R to fit a tankless air cup system to provide enough nose lift for the Cappuccino to negotiate the nastiest speed bumps. Call it insurance on my investment – you can’t put a price on peace of mind.
Then, as we were coming close to our agreed finish date, something strange happened. The little Cappuccino, having fought so valiantly, was now plagued by electrical and fuelling issues. Not only that, but like a lover inexplicably going cold and distant, the updates from MP&R had suddenly gone quiet. It felt like we had ran so far, just to fall inches from the finishing line.
Turns out it was all part of the plan. Just imagine my emotions when I drove into Caffeine & Machine to meet some friends, only to find the MP&R team and my beloved little Cappuccino waiting for me in the building. In a move that may or may not have awarded him untold brownie points, my partner had gone behind my back and schemed our reunion as an early birthday surprise, leaving the team having to invent all kinds of excuses for failing to answer my inquiries.
The moment I was finally reunited with my car will remain seared on my mind for all time, one doubtlessly made more special by all the people who had worked together to make it possible. But, now the dust has settled I have a question to answer: would I do it again?
I won’t say that restoring this car comes close to scraping into my top 10 smartest financial decisions. In fact, not only did I fail to stick to my initial budget, I managed to double it. There were times I doubted my will to carry on, but from the start I knew this was going to be an emotional affair, not a particularly logical one.
So now I’m looking forward to making new memories with this car and perhaps one day I’ll come to regret all that time and money spent. But all I can tell you is how I feel now, which is, no, I don’t regret a day or a penny of it. And if lying on my deathbed I feel anything else, frankly I’ll be amazed.
Photography by Al Clark
