Posts Tagged ‘1980s’
1989 Audi Quattro 2.2 20v
Fire up the Quattro. Yawn. What a predictable opening line.
Like the original E30 BMW M3, the quattro (meant to spelled with a lower-case q) is one of the most iconic Teutonic cars of the Eighties. Astonishing to believe that it is now 31 years since the blister-arched coupe made its fiery debut and was unleashed upon the rallying world, annihilating everything in its path. It may not be the most beautiful car ever made, but there is no denying its pedigree: it made stars of Walter Rohrl, Stig Blomqvist, Hannu Mikkola and of course, one of the most successful ladies to ever set foot in motorsport, Michele Mouton. If it wasn’t for the quattro, none of the other rally-bred turbo nutters, such as the Lancia Integrale, Mitsubishi Evolution and of course, the Scooby would have been born. It made four-wheel-drive possible in regular cars. Most manufacturers now offer a 4WD version of their regular models in their range.
A curious fact about the quattro – Its’ 4WD system was actually based closely upon a British setup designed by Ferguson in the 1960s, which of course was utilised in the 1966 Jensen FF.
The quattro was heavily based on the B2 (second generation) Audi 80 Coupe, a handsome machine designed by Giorgetto Giugario. Back then, most of Audi’s models were powered by 5-scylinder engines, and of course, one of the many desirable assets of the quattro is of course that savage metallic howl at full song. The 2WD Coupes can picked up for peanuts nowadays and have all the looks and 5-cylinder thrum of the quattro but at a much cheaper price.
Second-generation Audi 80 Coupe GT - the car that gave birth to an icon. Not as menacing and front-wheel-drive but still has that 5-cylinder engine....
The quattro’s distinctive styling cue, those arches, were styled by Martin Smith, giving the gangling coupe a real menacing edge and the looks of the car were changed very little during its eleven-year production run. The nose was facelifted to feature one-piece headlights similar to the B3 generation 80, and the rear lights were smoked to give it a much more purposeful backside. If you take a look at a Series 2 quattro from the late Eighties/early Nineties, you will struggle to see its relationship with the original 80 model that spawned it. Interestingly it was sold alongside the next generation 80 and still managed to look modern despite being based on a car first launched in 1978. Another example of the quattro’s influence – look at the three-door example of the rather more prosaic Vauxhall Nova, which also has those blistered arches and no doubt helped sales.
The quattro of course became even meaner as it continued to piss over the rallying competition….in 1985 the legendary Sport Quattro was born.
1985 Audi Sport Quattro. The most desirable of all quattros. You now have to look very hard to spot the original Audi 80 DNA here.
The Sport, featuring many bespoke styling features, and most notably, a shorter wheelbase, was the ultimate roadgoing Audi at the time – a fire-breathing 305bhp monster that could easily crack 155mph in stock form. This put it into supercar territory – even the Sierra Cosworth, launched a year later, came with just 204 horses and certainly had more show than the reasonably subtle Sport. Even the much later Japanese rally-bred nutters inspired by the car, such as the Subaru Impreza Turbo, weren’t as quick.
The Sport, with its squatter, more compact stance had improved handling and continued to keep Audi at the top of the rallying game, especially as Group B began to hit its stride. The Sport could make 400 plus bhp in Group B trim and by 1986, Audi were admitting to over 500 horses in the most fearsome of all, the bewinged S1 that took Walter Rorhl to Pikes Peak.
The closed-car record at Shelsley Walsh for example, was held by a quattro for almost twenty years…in the late Eighties rallying maestro Hannu Mikkola smashed it to under 30 seconds (29.51) in a works Sport Quattro, and in 1992 the mark was lowered to 28.58 seconds by the legendary Tom Hammonds, a furniture shop owner from Hinckley who owned a 700bhp Pikes Peak S1 replica. This stood for fifteen years. Not that it was completely unreachable – Audi tuning specialist Keith Murray came pretty close in his 650bhp Sport replica on numerous occasions in the early 2000s.
The ultimate Quattro - 600bhp 1985 S1 Sport, built to conquer Pikes Peak. Photo by Alex Cleland who also took the video below..
Still not convinced. Just watch these videos. That sound alone is enough to stir up hormones in any worthy petrolhead.
:The late Tom Hammonds\’ S1 replica, Prescott 1991
1982 Talbot Tagora SX
The much-maligned Tagora is a popular “rubbish car” choice – i’ve seen it published in countless books and on numerous blogs, condemning it. It was a catastrophic failure at its 1980 launch, and looking at it, you do wonder why..
In terms of engineering, the Tagora had no major flaws, and it’s boxy, drawn-with-an-Etch-a-Sketch styling was actually cutting-edge at the time. Well for starters, there was the Talbot brand itself, which was not established in the marketplace and had a questionable pedigree – plus the rattlebox-engined Horizon and reasonably crude Sunbeam hatchbacks didn’t make it an aspirational marque. Ask anyone today what Talbot symbolises….and the latter is what most will come up with. Not the glamorous Lago and 105 roadsters of the 1930s. The Tagora was offered with two engines – the rickety 2.2 litre 4-cylinder ex-Chrysler 180 engine, and the more powerful V6 ‘Douvrin’ unit, shared with the Peugeot 604 and other big cars. And therein stems another problem – the Chrysler 180 was considered the world’s dullest car when it was inproduction, so picking up such a poisoned chalice didn;’t help Talbot to begin with,
I don’t even think it has enough charm to endear it to my love of 1980s cars either to be honest. Partly because nobody would know what it is, and partly because its flimsiness and rarity would give me no end of headaches. Big French cars have always suffered in the UK, even after the Tagora faced the axe, cars such as the Renault Safrane, Peugeot 605 and later Renault Vel Satis have all bombed here. The Germans have the posh car market sewn up and have for the last 25 years. Peugeot, Renault, Talbot – all made cars for the masses. Which is surprising considering what a big seller the Ford Granada always was!
The Tagora inspired the design of another forgettable car too – anyone remember the Hyundai Stellar? You could probably stack a load of Tagoras on top of each other and hey presto, you’ve built a block of council flats.
Match made in heaven?
This segment isn’t just about offensive cars. I actually really like the Arna, and it has a lot going for it.
Jeremy Clarkson once said “you can never claim to be a true petrolhead unless you’ve owned an Alfa”, and this has some truth. Alfa Romeos represent the flair, passion and soul of Italy, the glamour and style associated with the nation is encapsualted in the Milenese saloons. Especially in Rosso.
However, this much-maligned hatchback was the first and only offspring of a short and acrimonious marriage between Alfa and Nissan. (the car’s name stood for Alfa Romeo Nissan Autoveicoli) In fact this car is so hated that alfisti refuse to even talk about it. Many blogs and articles have been written slagging this car, and rightly so.
The Arna was launched in 1983 to replace the long-lived and much-revered Alfasud hatchback, with its admittedly deserved reputation for rusting into the ground. The new venture decided to transplant the front suspension, transmission and rasping boxer engines from the ‘Sud into Nissan’s top-selling Cherry hatchback (called the Pulsar in some countries to really confuse people!). On paper, this was a winning idea. The Japanese could bring their nous for reliability and build quality to the passion and verve of Italian cars and combine both in this new product.
In theory, this could have worked. However, predictably, it flopped. Big style. Alfisti loathed the black plastic interior and boxy, soul-less, designed-by-accountants styling of the car, and the pragmatists hated the porous bodywork and tendency for parts to either stop working completely or snap off en route to the shops. In other words, the worst stereotypical qualities for Japanese and Italian cars respectively. On the plus side, though, it brought the Alfa badge to a new range of customers, plus the spine-tingling growl of the eager flat-four engines, and you cannot argue with the practicality and user-friendliness of the Cherry’s design.
However, I would steer clear of an Arna, as it is in no way a cheap means of counting yourself a true petrolhead. You will be sneered at by Alfa owners, and you will be forever kicking the tyres as it once again goes bang on the side of the road.
Just to compare:
In the Nissan corner - we have the Cherry. Frumpy, yes. Boring, yes. Ugly? possibly. But well-made with bombproof engines, electrics and mechanicals.
And in the Alfa corner - the Alfasud. Cute, curvy, desirable. Sonorous engines and nippy handling, combined with Italian soul. But try finding one in Auto Trader!
Probably a waste of a blog, but right now, I can’t think of a worthy subject to muse upon today, so here’s a picture of my precious baby to drool over (if your car desires swing this way)
JB
1980s rotboxes FTW ;D
Nova – the little better car indeed!
Bit bizarre, I guess, reviewing a car that went out of production 17 years ago, but I am doing this to see how the driving experience stacks up compared to a supermini of this era. And because I have owned this 1989 1-litre ‘Jet Black’ (decals added by me) example for 3 weeks now.
The Nova was launched in the UK a year after its Opel counterpart, the Corsa went on sale. Built by GM Espana in Zaragoza, Spain, there was a plethora of trim levels and specifications available, from the 1.0 basic (like mine) to the rapid 1.6-litre GTE. Styling was remarkably restrained yet neat, and looks pure comapred to the overstyled and bloated Corsa of today. The 3-door models, unlike the 5-doors, had Audi Quattro-esque blistered wheelarches. The Nova’s tiny dimensions mean that parking is easy and visibility is in myriad supply. However there are styling cues which mark this is as a supermini from another era – square and orange blinkers, solid black plastic bumpers and grille, and small, skinny steel wheels.
The Nova was a huge seller in its day, but getting inside you wonder why. The interior, although solidly screwed-together, light and airy, is full of hard plastic and angular designs – very dated. The poverty-spec model really is that – The wipers have only two settings, no rear wiper, a manual choke control (remember them?). No ABS, central locking or any opf your silly modern computer gadgets that cost a fortune to fix when they break. No crappy i-Drive system here. You drive this car using the wheel, stick and pedals, and use your prowess behind the wheel to keep it on the road. The baby Vauxhall has no power-steering but thankfully the diminutive size and feather weight (760kg approx) mean it is easy to manouevre, although the turning circle resembles that of a double-decker bus. Don’t expect sportscar handling, though.
Engines available were 1.0, 1.2, 1.3, 1.4, 1.5 diesel and 1.6 injected. The petrol units, except for the 1.0, are OHC and of the Family II 8v series of GM engines. The 1.2 develops 55bhp (same as a modern Volkswagen supermini) but this is enough to shift the light little car about town fairly swiftly. In fact, the acceleration is nothing to be sniffed at, and the Nova can easily keep up with modern traffic. The 1.0, is a different kettle of fish. It is a rattly pushrod engine designed in the late 1950s and first saw service in the 1962 Opel Kadett, only to be brought out of retirement for the Corsa/Nova’s 1982 launch. The 1-litre is noisy and very unrefined, but again, the light weight means that despite a paltry 45bhp, you won’t be stuck behind mopeds and tractors. However the engine needs to be worked hard to keep up with modern traffic, and those used to modern superminis will find this tiring to drive.
Despite having a four-speed manual gearbox (yeah, times have changed since 1989) the Nova will cruise competently at 60 and 70mph, albeit makes a hell of a loud job doing so. Ride is a little harsh, but long journeys won’t break your spine. My previous Nova was a 1.2 merit and it performed a 5-hour drive from Buckingham to Cornwall without a hitch and remained reasonably comfortable. Handling is below-par, the soft suspension leads to horrendous body roll at speed around corners, but the quick ‘power delivery’ and low-gearing ensures a nippy driving experience.
Overall, in comparison to modern superminis, the Nova doesn’t measure up. It is cramped, a little tinny,noisy, unrefined, and not that fuel efficient (having said that, at current petrol prices a full tank can cost £32 max). Dated and unpleasant interior, lack of kit and a 5th gear make this car better suited to city life, though the boxy styling and raucous engine won’t endear you to the Joneses on Acacia Avenue. However the light weight, excellent visibility simple engine and construction, and no complicated computer systems to break down is bliss for the more frugal driver, although younger drivers may have to get used to the old-school manual choke. The simple values of the little car delivers a remarkable pure driving experience where everything can be reassuringly felt and responses are instantaneous, and in a time where superminis are the size of Sierras and everything has to be controlled by some computer, this is such a breath of fresh air.
Verdict:-
Vauxhall’s top-seller in Thatcher’s day still makes sense for a buyer on a budget, though the boyracer image can still put some off. The relationship between car and driver is much closer than in today’s Corsa, albeit can be too spartan for some. Willing, if noisy engines, roomy interior and great visibility make this a decent car to live with in town. But standards have moved on so much since the 1980s.
Car tested: Vauxhall Nova 1.0
Engine: 993cc, four cylinders
Power: 47bhp
Transmission: Four-speed manual
Fuel: 40mpg (approx)
Performance: 0-62mph: 15 sec
Price: £10-£1,000
Verdict: Simple values make this a refreshing change from the bloated, sanitised, so-called modern “small” cars.
Rating: 4/5
I really enjoy photography, and am proud to call myself an amateur photographer. Admittedly I can’t see my photos ending up in art galleries any time soon but its still a hell of a lot of fun! Plus, I am only armed with a Samsung L210 (10.2 Mpxls) which is designed for Facebook snaps and my Nokia 6110 Navigator (a paltry 2.0MPXL). For those who regularly consult my Flickr, there is a bit a key theme emerging.
<script type=”text/javascript”>
var zg_nsids = ’43130906@N04′;
</script>
<script src=”http://www.flickr.com/fun/zeitgeist/badge.js.gne” type=”text/javascript”></script>
Old Cars. Cars are my lifeblood and always have been. I love glamorous classics, but I also have a lot of love for the unloved cars, partiuclarly anything pre-M-prefix (1995). Every journey I take I’m on the lookout for anything pre-1995 (unless its interesting or rare) and it’s been amazing what I have found lurking on the roads round my way. MKII Volkswagen Golfs are the most prevalent, perhaps so much so that I wonder whether it’s even worth snapping them! I have a soft spot for what are mostly dismissed as ‘old bangers’ because these 1980s and early 1990s cars are what I grew up with and I guess it saddens me to think of them as rare when I remember them being so common. I have loved meeting fellow Flickrers who also share my passion for the unloved, so if you have time, check out the photostreams of bramm77, Mick Travis, SpottedLaurel and mark.mitchell.brown. Bramm77 (AKA Sam) in particular has found some beautiful examples of old 1980s street scenery round his parts. Of course, there’s all my VSCC race meeting photos up too, but they were the stepping stones towards carving out a Flickr identity.
Buses – I’ve discovered my inner anorak bus spotter. I can’t help but be interested in the big old boxes that we rely on. I know my bus photos aren’t the best, but where I live, there is not offer of a diverse usage of interesting stuff, even after you wade through the sea of Dennis Tridents and MAN 18.220s. I have discovered that my hometown’s bus fleet has an Alexander Dennis/Transbus monopoly. At leasy they are British.
I eagerly took up the challenge of Project 365, mainly because I knew it would be a toughie. One Photo Per Day, Every Day, for one whole year. As I write this, I am up-to-date with 90 taken so far. Project 365 has presented me with such a plethora of challenges, though. For starters, the photos don’t always sum up my day, some have been taken for the sake of it, whilst several tend to be the same (you can tell a slow photo day when A] old VSCC photos appear on my photostream and B] the 365 for that day tends to be an item of food or a car!) I have tried to make my Project 365 reasonably diverse as well as being a yearbook of 2010 for me – I guess I fear it shows my life is very boring. There have been times when I’ve fallen behind and uploaded none for as long as 8 days as well. Project 365 is bloody hard!
I have been criticised for a lack of diversity in my Flickr, so I make sure I capture anything that catches my eye rather than just looking for old 80s cars. I also love urban decay as a photo subject, so another thing I am striving to endeavour is the side of Cambridge that the tourist brochures gloss over – in other words, taking snaps of the really rough bits of the revered Anglian city (there are loads of rank bits, Cambridge DOES have its own page on chavtowns.co.uk 
). One of my snaps has been used in a Schmap online guide to the city, as well 
I also realise that many of my pictures on Flickr have been retouched, but that’s only because the L210 sucks colour and soul out of the subject, because I don’t think it is meant to be a professional snapper’s tool. Hence why a lot of ym 365′s look better on Flickr than they do on their dedicated site.
Yeah, guys, it’s another double decker bus musing for you to pore over.
Some mindless nerdboy behaviour online has led me to ponder this, my fellow bus enthusiasts. My sources inform me that Optare bought the design of the venerable Metrobus from Metro-Cammell-Weymann back in the late 1980s after the Birmingham company decided to stop making buses (WHY?). Some light modifications to the 1976-vintage design, including a more anodyne front end (blocky headlights, grille and flashers…SO late 1980s), bigger front windows, a blocked-off rear window (one of the worst design features of modern buses, we do like to feel like we can see where we have been!), and stacked rear-lights very similar to the Plaxton Paramount, rather than standard BMAC fare. The design was also modified to a low-floor layout. This new-old product was christened the very chic title of ‘Spectra’. It was only built on the Dutch DAF DB250 chassis.
A MkII MCW Metrobus, running for TWM.
An Optare Spectra. Check out the centre styling in contrast to its more modern front end.
Uncanny, the resemblance, isn’t it? I don’t know who Optare thought they were kidding.
The Spectra also came with a Voith D85 gearbox, identical to that fitted to the Metrobus. Youtube footage of a Metrobus and Spectra will be linked at the end to compare the sounds for those who care, lol. Early Spectras (up to 1993) were even fitted with Gardner 6LXB units.
Anyways, just a little bit of public transport-related silliness to fill my blog pages today. See you soon!
Links:
Footage inside a Metrobus:
Footage inside a Spectra:
Both buses are from the National Express West Midlands fleet. You’ll see what I mean when they are identical vehicles.
