The other Italian stallion

By Alastair Sloane

A former executive at Citroen is restoring a rare four-wheel-drive Alfa Romeo fire engine. A chef in Takapuna is doing the same with an Alfasud; an accountant in Meadowbank is hunting for an 70s Spider 2000 to work on.

It's the name, see - Alfa Romeo. Say it soft and it sets up a dream; say it loud and it sets up a scream. It's all about passion and desire. New or used, you get a car with a glorious history, a badge that evokes images of mediaeval and modern day Italy.

Never mind that earlier models spent more time at an auto electrician's than they did on the road; that the windscreen wipers had two speeds, fast and faster, and that the driving position in some models demanded that the owner had a Neanderthal as a recent relative.

The horn used to stick. Fiats had the same problem and Fiat owns Alfa. Perhaps it had something to do with the horn being pretty much the most used part of a car, apart from the wheels, in Italy.

Or that it had a life of its own, so used to honking that it might as well do it itself and save the driver the trouble.

Whatever, it would holler when you least expected it, at 3am with the street sound asleep. Owners could be heard stumbling about in dressing gowns cursing as they tried to disconnect the battery.

Sometimes they would yell in pain. This happened when they scrapped their knuckles on the terminals.

The indicators and brake lights kept people following an Alfa wide awake, too. Flicking the indicator to turn left often stirred the brake lights, the least used part of a car in Italy.

Similarly, braking in bumper-to-bumper traffic at night and with the headlights on dip might invite the right-turn indicator to blink flat out and high beam to kick in and not turn off.

But so what. Alfas were temperamental thoroughbreds, just like the original race and touring cars. They couldn't be totally reliable. That would be boring.

But they had soul. Everyone said that. Everyone who ever owned an Alfa said the same thing: they loved it but it drove them crazy.

Things have changed. The passion is still there but, like Fiats, the cars are more reliable. It came early in the 90s with the 146 and GTV and has continued with the subtly evocative and delightful 156, a car more appealing than a bottle of Brunello and a big pizza with the three tenors.

It is apparent, too, in the latest model from Alfa, the exciting front-drive 166, the sporty flagship of the fleet which the local importers, Azzurra Motor Group, is aiming at the executive market.

The stylish four-door, which replaces the 11-year-old 164, is one of the best looking cars on the road, elegant and dynamic with poise and flair. It is fun to drive, at its best under the throttle through sharp and sweeping corners where instant steering responses and the gloriously throaty note of the V6 engine are a joy.

It is not a high-speed executive express, like an Audi, BMW or Mercedes-Benz, cars that sweep you along. The Alfa's chassis rides on smooth blacktop as well as the Germans but its firmer suspension set-up and damping shows up a harder ride on lumpier roads.

In true Alfa ambition, the 166 asks more of the driver. To get the best out of the tall-geared 166kW V6 you need to keep the engine on the boil, at least on the other side of 3800 rpm and in sight of peak punch of 275Nm at 5000 rpm.

The interior sports the best of leather and the car's computer-driven audio-phone-satnav system is one of the best available. Some drivers might find the front seat squab slightly too long.

The Alfa 166 is a few bob short of $90,000.