Alfa Romeo 147: Alfadependence

The Italians are an inconsistent and strange people. It seems that emotions completely drown out the voice of reason in them. Whether it's the climate, the women, or the Mediterranean Sea stirring the blood. Otherwise, how to explain that when a journalist asked how he would characterize Alfa-Romeo for those unfamiliar with the brand, the company's head Antonio Baravalle at a press conference dedicated to the opening of a dealership in Moscow replied with the phrase "And where have you seen a red Mercedes?"

Dear Antonio, we certainly believe you. Red Mercedes cars, of course, do not exist. This is as true as the fact that an Alfa during the warranty period has a habit of breaking down often. Although, perhaps, red Mercedes sometimes do appear (at least in Vladimir Sorokin's latest novella), and Alfas occasionally survive the entire warranty without a single breakdown. But that all Italian cars have quirks, I am firmly convinced. I still remember how three years ago I pinched my finger until it bled. It would seem like a common thing, but I pinched it while folding the polished wooden table in front of the rear sofa of a Maserati Quattroporte — a car that is beautiful and far from cheap. And why? And why, many years ago in May, on a Fiat Punto of the previous generation, did the heated driver's seat turn on by itself at full power? And it wouldn't turn off. And that's not all — the pinnacle of Fiat's evolution, Ferrari, is also not without sin: take for example the Enzo, which from time to time splits in half on a flat road... Oddities also haunt my current test. The first two times, traffic police inspectors don't even look at the documents, stopping solely to check for alcohol (it was during the New Year holidays, and the officers thought there were almost no sober drivers), and the third time, after examining the power of attorney, the inspector breaks into a satisfied smile and begins... laughing loudly. In the power of attorney for "my" red Alfa Romeo 147 it is written verbatim: "the power of attorney is valid from December 6, 2006 to January 8, 2006" and in parentheses a note: "the power of attorney is issued for a period of 4 days." And this despite the fact that the car was registered in mid-December 2006. And the inspector's understanding and sense of humor, alas, are not disinterested... Italian carelessness is contagious and even spreads to the employees of the Alfa Romeo Moscow dealership.

Mr. Baravalle's answer becomes clear if you realize that no one chooses an Alfa Romeo for the first time. Just as you don't choose a woman you are already madly in love with. It's an incurable disease. And it's called Alfa-addiction. And it's an axiom: if you love cars not at the level of "Mercs are cool, BMW is not, but actually only 'Japanese' rule," you will not pass by an Alfa Romeo. It will definitely leave a mark on your automotive biography.

And even understanding all this, sitting behind the wheel of a brand new 147 Alfa, I get annoyed. The leather seats are too soft, the robotic "Selespeed" manual is pointless, the "Fiat-style" face of the stereo (the same as, for example, on a Fiat Doblo), the awful sound of the acoustics with the Bose badge, the cramped interior (the car's dimensions have not changed since the Alfa Romeo 145, and what seemed normal then looks like an anachronism today — only the Oka is smaller), and you can't reach the heated seat button, and a "cricket" has already settled somewhere under the trim of the front door. And this is on a completely new car. Packed to the brim with electronics, with dual-zone climate control with automatic recirculation mode, six airbags, and stability and hill-start assist systems, braking and other electronic assistants, the 147 tries to distract me from driving with stupid messages on the dashboard. "Operation impossible" — the Alfa says when I pull the paddle shifter towards me hoping to engage the next gear, or push the gear selector for the same purpose — it turns out the system itself knows that you can't engage the next gear until the engine revs up to at least 2000 rpm, but why shout about it so much, especially since the electronics themselves shift gears terribly, and once even stalled when trying to start from second gear. When the "city" mode indicator is lit on the dashboard, the gearbox tries to imitate an automatic. It does, but if a real "automatic" shifted like that, it would be sent for an overhaul without unnecessary diagnostics. I'm annoyed by the body nods at every shift in this mode, which clearly give away the driver's skill. I'm infuriated by the sound with which each of the almost 200 studs of the latest version of "Hakkapeliitta" scrapes on the dry January asphalt. Where is the sound insulation here? And I'm annoyed by my own tediousness.

Don't you see how eagerly the Alfa allows sliding in corners even on studded tires, how clearly it responds to actions with a short (just over two turns from lock to lock) steering wheel, how superbly and richly this headache of all Alfa-Romeo owners revs — the 2-liter Twin Spark engine with two spark plugs per cylinder? Surely there are only 150 horses in it? If so, they must be of some hot, fierce breed. And what about acceleration to a hundred? 8.9 or 9.8 or maybe 15 seconds, what difference does it make — it's an "Alfa," pure emotion.

There really are emotions in abundance. The unpleasant word "rapture" comes to mind. In fourth gear, the 150-horsepower Alfa accelerates so eagerly almost to the maximum speed — 190 km/h, that you begin to feel almost euphoria, and how the engine sings from 4 thousand rpm and above!.. Revving the engine in an Alfa is pure pleasure! And even at 160 km/h it seems you're going noticeably faster. When you release the gas and after braking, the gearbox downshifts by itself, keeping the engine at high revs — "racer-style." Although the Selespeed gets this opportunity very rarely, almost the entire test I drove in manual mode — finding common ground with the "gearbox" is very difficult. On bends, the car, of course, doesn't have the mathematical precision of a MINI Cooper S, although it remains exceptionally obedient. One is even tempted to say "impeccably obedient." But not so emotional. The terrible ruts in the far left lane of the MKAD — who cares. Those who stubbornly don't want to let the little red Italian car, fiercely shining with xenon, pass — we don't take offense either. The independent suspensions on fragile aluminum arms still cope excellently with road irregularities, although most competitors do it just as well. The steering wheel, comfortable in shape and short in the number of turns from lock to lock, doesn't require hand-over-hand on sharp bends, and even with the stability system off, it allows easy control of the car. Slowly but surely, irritation gives way to pleasure.

Good morning, dear

Approaching the car the next day, looking at the almost unchanged appearance of the "2007 model" with new headlights, pouring "antifreeze" into the very inconvenient narrow neck (no wider than a bottle of Italian wine) of the washer fluid reservoir, and the cold leather seat, trying to slip my hand into the narrow gap between the sill and the seat in search of the heating button, buckling up and starting the engine, looking at the slightly changed shape of the dashboard, cursing the robotic Selespeed gearbox, I clearly realize that in some incomprehensible way I have fallen in love with this far from new and certainly far from ideal car. And I draw the logical conclusion — apparently, Alfa Romeo is still good only for love and not for calculation.

And one more thing: if in your garage, besides the Alfa, there will be something Japanese from the category of "marriage of convenience," your love for the Alfa will be all-forgiving and even stronger. Especially if your 147 is with a manual gearbox. As a candidate, I would suggest, for example, a Mazda 3 MPS. It costs about the same as the Alfa, and the engine has as much as 260 horsepower, but that's a topic for another conversation...

How much?