Girls watch the Fiat go by ...

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Saturday, July 17, 2010

In all my years doing this gig, I have seen many strange things — exploding test cars, hysterical PR people, maniac hacks, insanely jealous lay people causing ructions at car launches, and the occasional mental and physical meltdown of people so taken by a new car that they can hardly contain themselves.

The exploding test cars, the hysterical PR people, and the maniac hacks you get used to, in the day-to-day run of things (of course, they are not exactly commonplace, but you come to expect them every now and then), and the insanely jealous lay person is also a frequent enough sight for the average motoring writer; but someone losing their normal equilibrium upon exposure to any particular car is something which can heartily undermine someone — like myself — with a normally stout constitution.

The effect of this phenomenon differs from gender to gender, and can vary from seeing grown men weep uncontrollably as they make their first, real-life encounter with the machine of their dreams, to witnessing mature and sensible women almost losing it control of bodily functions in similar circumstances.

It happened to me, recently, while I was testing the really dinky Fiat 500 C — a car dressed, no less, in ‘funk pearlescent white with red leather trim.’

And it didn’t happen just once: there were so many women swooning at the sight of the thing that the longer my week with the car went on, the more embarrassing it became.

As I have often opined in these columns — whilst earnestly protesting my non-sexist point of view — certain cars are definitely aimed more at female buyers than male ones (although the lines blur occasionally). Safe to say, though, that the 500 convertible — that’s the ‘C’ bit — lures women even more effectively than Lorelei, the siren of the Rheine, used to snag boatmen on the great river.

This thing got to them, truly, madly and deeply.
, and, I have to say, it was almost painful to see their yearning, as their piteous eyes encountered what was the closest thing they had ever come to the forbidden fruit.

They certainly didn’t need Adam to help them make their minds up on this one and each — smitten and besotted — would quite easily have accepted eternal damnation in return for a few years of base pleasure with the diminutive Fiat.

Much like the current Mini, of course, the 500 is a retro cover of a past classic — in this case, the much loved Topolino of the ‘50s and ‘60s.

And, again like the Mini, it stirs emotions in people that sometimes they never even realised they harboured. These emotions, it has to be said, are usually of the lustful variety.

And you can see why. The beautifully apportioned size and shape of the 500 is designed to do this to people, and it is remarkably effective in doing so.

Of course, rationality usually goes straight out the window in such circumstances, and this is a fact Fiat are only too willing to play along with, and, whisper it, exploit.

This is a car designed to melt women’s hearts and it does so with extraordinary effectiveness. While men tend to scoff at its diminutive size and cutesy looks, women come over all girly and doe-eyed. This means that they are only too willing to overlook the possible deficiencies of the car — poor ride quality (absolutely no pun intended, believe me) and an engine that can struggle with anything more hilly than a dining room table — and forgive it without demur.

For the record, I must say that while this is not really a full convertible, and that the rag-top slides back and forth more like an extended sunroof rather than a proper cabriolet, Fiat has still managed to retain most of the car’s torsional rigidity, so there is not too much evidence of the shake, rattle and roll of many similar cars. However, the drive ride (forgive me once more, but that is the technical term) is rubbery (I am trying to be serious here) and on Irish roads is mediocre, at best.

The engine is diminutive, at 1.2 litres, and produces just 69 bhp. This translates into a 12.9-second, 0-100 kph capability and a top speed of 159 kph, which is nothing much to write home about. That said, the 4.8-litre consumption rate, every 100 kms, and the tax benefits are something that will put a smile on most punter’s faces.

So, too, will the interior décor, which is a very pleasing blend of retro and modern, what with the dials having an old-style look with bang up-to-date functions. And they have thrown in all that MP3 palaver, as well.

While the rear seats are effectively only good for kids (adults could certainly find them traumatic on long journeys), the practicality of the car is not bad and the boot is only a tiny bit smaller than on the hatch model, while the standard kit is excellent, and, on the ‘Lounge’ version, as tested, exceptional.

This really is a very enchanting little car and one which has recreated a past era of motoring in a very charismatic package that boasts every modern convenience and high levels of safety.

Having said all that, however, it is probably salutary to note that if this car were a popular singing star, it would probably be the late Joe Dolan. That being the case, it should carry a warning sticker: ‘Keep the knickers on, girls.’