Man Maths: MVS Venturi

But then once we were done and I’d calmed down a bit, I gave it a little more thought. It was and remains a ridiculous suggestion as a dependable trans-European chariot and says as much about Gez’s unhealthy obsession with the Douvrin ‘PRV’ V6 engine (I can’t think why else he bought a DeLorean that had spent 10 years submerged in a bog), as the suitability of the Venturi to such a task. But actually…

Because I’ve been doing this job since before the Spanish Armada set sail, I’ve actually driven one. And can still pretty much remember it. It would have been around 30 years ago and we did a triple test between it, the rival (also PRV-powered) Alpine A610 and something else, almost certainly a 911.

How amazed would you be to learn that the Venturi (technically an MVS Venturi at the time) won? Not as amazed as me, because it didn’t. In fact I believe it came last. But I do remember it was a far, far closer run thing than any of us had imagined it might be. With the twin-turbo version of the engine Gez dreams most nights of retro-fitting to his stainless steel flight of fancy, it was not lacking in performance. It handled crisply and, I at least thought, was a pretty good looking car too.

What was wrong with it? Not much, and its defeat says more about the brilliance of its rivals than any inherent deficiencies. I think the interior had some cheap bits, it was rather expensive and, of course, had no brand recognition whatsoever. But for a French supercar – not a breed at which the country has traditionally excelled, it was very credible.

But good luck finding one. I found a grand total of none in the UK and three in Europe, the best being a 50,000-miler for €67,000. What happens if you need a new front wing or anything else requiring bespoke parts I have no idea. Venturi built fewer than 700 cars over a 16-year period from 1984, of which who knows how many survive, but this Man Maths column would be poorer without the inclusion of the odd heroically inadvisable purchase. For we know, do we not, that there are always just a few brave souls who’ll stop at nothing to drive a car from which the rest of us would run away as if pursued by a bear. Why else, for instance, would you pull a DeLorean out of the Floridian bog it had been proud to call home for a decade or more?

If you’d like a fuller answer to that unfathomable question, Gez has extemporised on this very subject on the website and app in a story posted only yesterday, and you can read it for free right now.