Teenage kicks

Buying a new car as an 18-year-old. Does this call for a trip to the local Vauxhall dealer? A used car supermarket, perhaps? Well, for me, it was a dash over the English Channel, through France and into Italy, where I found my dream car: an Alfa Romeo Giulia. Yes, a 47-year-old family saloon car – the obvious choice.

Modern cars are all very well of course, but I admire classics, relishing the unassisted steering, the absence of driver aids and skinny tyres with little in the way of adhesion. You get the idea.

When I began my search for such a thing, I was looking for a relatively cheap, usable car with a lithe, athletic chassis – of which there are many. I soon became enamoured by Alfa Romeo‘s 105 series; a revvy twin-cam engine, five-speed manual gearbox and rear-wheel drive sounded perfect. Less perfect were the soaring values of 105 Spiders and Coupés, as I soon discovered when I delved into the classifieds; but it seemed the regular Giulia saloon had been left behind somewhat.